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kirishimaswife2819 · 4 years ago

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Them With a S/o That Has Trouble Taking Care of Themself || Midoriya, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Kaminari

Masterlist

Pairings: Izuku Midoriya x Reader, Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Reader, and Denki Kaminari x Reader

Requested by Anonymous: could i request some headcanons with the boys whos s/o has trouble taking care of themself? their s/o tends to give advice to people and encourage self care, but doesn't actually take their own advice. so the boys have to help them.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: Y’all better be taking care of yourselves or else. Thanks for requesting! Remember to drink water, eat enough, get enough sleep, stay safe, and don’t stress yourselves out too much :) -Danielle <3

Izuku Midoriya:

He doesn’t really notice your tendency to not take care of yourself, since you’re so insistent about other people taking care of themselves

He does eventually end up noticing that you’re not really taking the best care of yourself

Once he notices, he’ll do little things to try and get you to take care of yourself, but he won’t straight up tell you that he noticed

He’ll do things like bringing you a bottle of water at random times, or asking you what time you went to bed the night before, or even asking you what you ate for the day

If you don’t get enough exercise, he’ll invite you to come train with him (if you go to U.A.), or he’ll ask you to go on a run with him on some mornings

He’ll always ask about your day and what all you did during it

He also makes sure that you know that he cares about you and that he’s there if you ever need anything

He’s pretty good at picking up on if you’re overworking yourself or not, because he has a tendency to overwork himself, so he knows the signs of a person who’s overworking themselves

If you do overwork yourself, then he’ll force you to take a break and go do something with him, it really doesn’t matter what the two of you do, just as long as it stops you from overworking yourself

If you’re just doing bad mentally, in general, he’ll let you vent to him, and if you want advice, then he’ll give you some, and he’s actually really good at it

Overall, he’ll just make sure that you’re happy and healthy, and if you’re not then he’ll do everything in his power to change that

Katsuki Bakugou:

You really think that you can get away with not taking care of yourself when you’re dating Bakugou? You’re wrong, he notices pretty much everything about you, and there’s no way that he won’t notice that you ignore your own advice

One day, you were talking to one of your friends from another school on the phone, and Bakugou was next to you, and you said something along the lines of, “Make sure you take care of yourself” and then listed a bunch of things to do

And then after you hung up the phone, Bakugou was like, “How are you going to sit there and give advice that you don’t even follow?”

He’ll help you out, but he’ll be rude about it

He’ll bring you water and food but he’ll shove it into your hands instead of handing it to you

He forces you to come work out with him, but he won’t make you work yourself too hard

If you’re too stressed about school, he’ll give you his homework to copy, but he’ll say that you “owe him one” and then completely forget about it

He really just wants you to be healthy and happy, but if you ask him why he does it, he’s going to make up some dumb excuse for it

Eijiro Kirishima:

Kirishima pays a whole ton of attention to you and your habits, so he’s quick to catch onto you and your habit of not taking care of yourself

He’s honestly so sweet when he confronts you about it too

The two of you were sitting in his dorm, helping each other with the homework, which you frequently did because it made it easier on the both of you

You had just finished, and closed your book, before sitting back and looking to Kirishima to see if he was done yet

He finished shortly after you did, and he decided it would be best to confront you about it, right then

“Y/n?” He asked, snapping you out of your daydream

“What’s up?” You replied, looking at him

“I don’t want to assume anything, but, do you have trouble taking care of yourself? I noticed that it seems like you do, even though you always talk about how important it is. So, do you?”

After you admit that you do have trouble, he’s always helping you out and making sure that you’re doing okay

He’ll remind you to do things, as well as doing them with you sometimes

For example, he’ll be like “Hey, wanna go to the gym with me?” or “Hi, Y/n! Do you want to go make something to eat with me?”

He also makes sure that you’re taking care of yourself mentally too, because that’s important

If he notices you stressing about something, he’ll try removing the stressful thing, before dragging you off to his room for a cuddle session

Shoto Todoroki:

Although, he’s pretty observant when it comes to you, he still managed to overlook the fact that you don’t really take good care of yourself

Midoriya is actually the one that brings it up to him, one day when you came up in their conversation, while they were taking a break from training together

“Speaking of L/n, how are they doing?” Midoriya asked, using a concerned tone that confused Shoto

“Um, fine, why?”

“Well, I just sort of noticed that they seem to have a hard time taking care of themselves. But if they’re fine, then it doesn’t matter. Sorry for bringing it up,” Midoriya said, with a shrug

Shoto had a hard time focusing for the rest of the training session, were you not doing fine?

After that, he beings to get more observant when it comes to what you’re eating, drinking, or what activities your doing throughout the day

He’ll bring the subject up to you, and after you admit that you do have trouble with it, he’ll constantly remind you to do certain things

He’ll ask you about it throughout the day, so you still have time to do certain things on that day if you haven’t yet

For example he’ll be like, “Have you drank any water yet today?” or “Have you exercised today?”

If he’s not around to do it, then he’ll ask other members of the class to do it for him

Denki Kaminari:

Bold of you to assume that he actually takes good care of himself, because he totally doesn’t

Maybe exercise wise, but other than that he doesn’t really do a good job at it himself

Although, he will after a few of your self care speeches, or he’ll try to

He’ll start drinking more water, and eating more healthy, but he still isn’t the best at it

Once he notices that you don’t really take care of yourself either, he’s not going to really want to tell you to, because he doesn’t want to sound like a hypocrite

But after he gets over that, he won’t give up until you start taking care of yourself

“Hey, Y/n, go get a glass of water, you haven’t had any today.”

“Come with me to go train, you need some exercise.”

“Babe, that’s your fourth bowl of chips, if you’re still hungry then have something healthier.”

“Stop procrastinating, you’re going to stress yourself out when the work is due.”

He’ll literally bug you about it constantly, to the point where you start doing it to avoid him constantly telling you to

Even after you start doing it, he’ll still bug you about it, just not as often, just so you remember what he’ll do if you don’t continue to take care of yourself

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writing-in-april · 4 years ago

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A Hope to go Home

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV and Vietnam war AU)

Summary: Spencer is drafted for the war and the only thing that helps him get through it is the letters he gets from Reader.

A/N: This is my second fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! It’s also the third part for my Spencer Reid & Letters series based on this request by @90spumkin 😊 This was super fun to write cause of how much of a history nerd I am! It’s the first time I’ve done a full blown historical AU (besides the series I’ve got coming in the future) Thanks for reading hope y’all like it and requests are open!

Warnings: Talk of violence & Talk of war- this whole fic is kinda loosely based on the prison arc with Spencer, just with an obvious twist

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

When October 28th was called out over the radio my heart dropped deep down into my stomach. I had been huddled next to the men that I worked with that were eligible. I remember distinctly thinking that there was no way that it could ever be me, if I didn’t fully acknowledge the possibility it would be easier to get through.

Then reality decided to slap me across the face.

Out of all the 27 million men that were eligible for the draft, why did I have to be part of the 2.2 million that got chosen?

None of the other men I worked with at the bureau had been called in, besides Anderson though I wasn’t very close with him. Most of them besides Me, Anderson, and Morgan were already too old to be eligible, I envied them immensely.

The looks on their faces told me all that I needed to know. They looked like they were already ready to start planning my funeral. I was glad I had at least been given the rest of the day off so I wouldn’t have to look at their somber faces anymore. At least I’d also get to go home to them early. It would probably be my last day off in a while, maybe ever.

Morgan and I had been pushing to get funding from our bosses for a new department, along with a few others, especially that old timer named Rossi. We had a few working names, chief among them the “Behavioral Science Unit”. Our idea was to create a unit in response to the uptick of violent crimes- especially serial offenders and help catch them by analyzing their behaviors. Most of the bureau thought we were a bunch of cooks, they still viewed our idea to use psychology to help catch criminals as a pseudoscience. I had even considered quitting my position a number of times because of the rampant disregard for people’s rights by the director, J. Edgar. Hoover, who’s questionable investigations caused my stomach to churn regularly.

But, we were getting close to getting that first pile of cash to help us fund a unit and I felt a need to see this project through. It was too important of a project to quit right when we were so close. Even though the actions of the government made me sick, I wanted to help from within, I wouldn’t quit. Though in light of my new circumstances I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see that pile of cash, let alone be able to name the unit. Maybe I’ll live to see what name they choose, if I get out of Vietnam alive. Though from what I had seen already from the people that came back injured beyond belief, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get out alive.

Even though I considered myself too weak to be a proper soldier that could be successful in combat, I didn't have any viable exception to the draft and I wasn’t brave enough to dodge. I cursed myself internally for not going for another PHD, I had heard it was rather easy to obtain a waiver if you were a student. However, I felt increasingly guilty for thinking that.

It was a well known fact that the richer you were, the easier it was to get a deferment. And, even though I wasn’t the most well off I still would have been able to afford to get another PHD when many couldn’t even think about getting a bachelors. Plus, I wasn’t even sure what we were supposed to be fighting for anyway. In the last world war there had been a reason. It seemed like no one knew the reason for this one. Was it worth it to see all these men perish? I guess it was for the Washington elite.

As I boarded to leave to a country so few knew anything about or cared to know anything about, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever come home again. The look on their face when I broke the news to them and their devastation when we had said what may be our last goodbye haunted me. They were smart, arguably just as smart as me, they knew I was most likely marching to my death. I hoped their devastation wouldn’t be the last thing I’d ever be able to remember of them while I bled out in a country I didn’t think we should be fighting against. I hoped I’d be able to come home.

—-

The only thing that was really keeping me going over here, where the sun was so hot I thought I would be incinerated to a crisp like those poor people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was my hope. Though maybe that was the fear of being bombed by my own country and brushed off as “necessary casualties” talking, all in an effort to put down an enemy most of us didn’t understand.

I waited impatiently under the burning sun tapping my foot repeatedly while someone next to me kept talking. Any other time and at any other place I would’ve been talking just as much as he had. When I first got here and the only person that I had connected with in basic training was almost immediately blown to smithereens. I decided that forming relationships here was futile. It was just easier to keep my head down and hope for home.

It had been quite a long time since I had gotten my last letter, specifically from them. Most of the letters I ended up getting were from them, my mom sent some on occasion but because of her fragile mental health I had told the staff where she was to not tell her where I had gone. My co workers had tried too, mostly at the beginning though when it was somewhat assured I’d still be alive. I think they had lost hope that I’d return, though some had obviously thought that was never going to happen, probably on account for my obviously unathletic stature.

My significant other had been the only one who seemed to hold out hope, even sometimes more than I could muster. That’s why every night I’d look over the letters they had sent me, to help replenish the hope that had been drained throughout the days.

It had been so long though, since I had received my last letter from them. A sense of dread filled the bottom of my stomach over the crippling fear of wondering if they had moved on. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, I stopped counting after a month. Had they stopped bothering to count too? Was it no longer worth it?

“Reid!” My last name was barked at me by the man in charge who I only bothered to learn the name of because I didn’t know I would have gotten in trouble. He barked again at me, “Letter for you!”

My heart caught up in my throat. I hoped the letter would be from them, if it was from anyone else I’m not sure it would bring me any happiness- at least it would be nothing compared to the happiness letters that they sent me made me feel, even if only for a moment.

I scooted off quickly with my letter in hand towards the barracks eager to tear into the letter. I hadn’t flipped over the envelope yet, wanting to wait to see who it was from by myself so I didn’t show emotion in front of the other soldiers. I plopped down on the cot assigned to me, though it was so thin it might as well have been a wooden board. My fingers shook as I tore into the envelope rabidly, I needed to see the words written in their hand. I didn’t know if I could handle this letter not being from them.

“Dear Spencer,”

As soon as I saw those words written in loopy cursive on a creased piece of paper I always felt slightly better. The letter was filled with sweet words and flowery language that most people would scoff at, but it meant the world to me. I wasn’t ok by any means and I didn’t know if I’d ever be fully ok again. But the words ‘Dear Spencer,” made me hope I’d one day go home again.

—

When that fateful day came, it was surreal. It wasn’t until I was back home on U.S soil that I had processed that I was finally going home.

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited to be reunited with them- the streets were crowded with many people. It had been the happiest sight I had been able to see in a long time, people reuniting with their loved ones.

I couldn’t find them in the sea of happiness around me, it made me worry. The last letter I had gotten from them had been a few months ago. I clutched it in my hand like I had clutched onto my hope. I wondered if it had been too long since I had been home.

“Spencer!” My name being called, my first name, not my last as I had become accustomed to overseas. Relief flooded through my veins that had only known anxiety, dread, and fear for so long. I knew who it was instantly and I knew it was time to come home. Maybe they’d let me name the unit now that I was home.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fics about Spencer and letters)

@whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader

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annab-recs · 4 years ago

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It’s My Fault - JJ Maybank

After you and Pope have a run-in with Rafe and Topper on a grocery delivery, things get out of hand quickly. You beg Pope not to tell JJ about what happened to you and he doesn’t tell him for a little bit before spilling your secret to his friend.

Requested by @maybebanks 💙

Warnings: some curse words; physical and sexual abuse (if you are being abused of any sort whether it is physical, verbal, mental, sexual, or whatever, get help please. My messages are always open for any of you and I love you)

Word Count: 2.6k+

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

“You guys get these groceries over to Figure Eight. Get straight back here when you’re done. No fishin’. I promised delivery by this afternoon,” Heyward told you three as you and Pope grabbed some bags from his grasp to load onto the boat.

“Rich folks don’t want to wait for you lazy sons of… Oh, JJ, thank you,” He said the last bit with sarcasm dripping from his voice before continuing his sentence, “…sons of bitches.”

“Right,” Pope answered to his father as he took the last bit of the bags before telling his dad goodbye.

“Don’t worry Heyward. I’ll make sure all the deliveries make it on time,” you grinned while speaking to the man. He chuckled before rolling his eyes.

“I’m sure you will, y/n. See y’all later.” That was the last you three heard before he slipped back into the store and you all took off to the land of the kooks.

…

“Doesn’t even look like the storm hit here,” Pope observed while he manned the boat. You and JJ looked out to notice the clean yards and electricity that the kooks had. Not a limb was seen in any of their yards. It was spotless and appeared to be untouched on this side of the island. If you only looked at this side of the island, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that a hurricane had hit.

“That’s because they got generators, bro. Get used to it. And then they say the juice will be out all summer at the cut,” JJ informed you two. You rolled your eyes at how unfair it was, but there was nothing that you could do about it.

“It’s nice to be a kook,” Pope muttered under his breath.

“Lucky bastards,” you agreed before y’all pulled up to your first stop which JJ would be going to fulfill. He went to the back to grab his bags and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before getting off at the dock to deliver the goods.

…

“Hey, what’s up?” the voice of the one you hated most rang in your ears. Rafe Cameron. You and Pope were walking through the golf course to get to your next delivery and as luck would have it, you ran into Rafe and Topper.

“Hey, how much for one of those beers?” Rafe asked as he poked the box you had in your arms with the handle of his golf club.

“They’re not for sale,” Pope spoke firmly before stepping in front of you. You tried to match his firmness by standing tall but weren’t sure you were doing so well. Rafe always bugged you. He would openly flirt with you even though you were with JJ. He would always stand too close, try to touch you, and made you uncomfortable overall. All the pogues knew about this and Pope gave you a sympathetic look, wishing he would have left you at the boat, but you wanted to join him instead of sitting around.

“Oh, wait, wait, wait. You can just give us one, then, right?” Rafe pressed as he put his club in front of Pope to get him to stop walking forward.

“Or you can order one like everybody else,” Pope told him before trying to walk forward again, but this time, Rafe’s hand stopped him.

“Listen. Wait, wait, wait. You’re not listening to me. Um, you’ve got so many, bro, and we’ve got nothing,” Rafe said as he stepped closer to Pope.

“Nothin’,” Topper added to Rafe’s bullshit.

“They’re not ours,” you spoke up from behind Pope. “They’re already paid for.”

“Already paid for?” Rafe asked as he peered into one of the bags that Pope held before slipping his golf club into it. “What the hell? You probably stole ‘em, right?” he pondered as he ripped the bag open with his golf club, allowing glass to shatter and ears of corn to spill everywhere.

“What the hell? You owe for that,” Pope warned the two, but they didn’t seem to care as Rafe swung the club at the other bag the Pope had, spilling the contents of it everywhere as well.

“Dude, I don’t own you shit, pogue,” Rafe spat as he stomped up to Pope.

“Buy your own shit!” Pope shouted and pushed Rafe away from him to protect you and possibly the beers, but you were far more important to him. He grabbed the beer box from you because he knew if you held them, then they would come for you.

“We just want one of these beers! Just give us one of these-” Topper started before he went in to take the beers from Pope, but Pope wasn’t going down without a fight.

“You guys are freaking crazy!” you screamed at the boys. The whole situation was ridiculous, but those kooks always had to be superior in all things. At least, they thought that. Topper and Pope wrestled with the beers before Topper eventually pushed Pope away, causing him to hit the ground harshly and roll a few times before he moaned in pain.

“Shit!” Topper yelled as he stumbled back with the force of the push which caused the beers to slip from his grasp and hit the ground as well. “Shit, my bad, man.”

Pope laid there, groaning. As you were about to go and check on him, he got up and charged at Rafe. Just when he was about to throw a punch, Rafe hit him in the gut with the end of the club. You screamed as Pope hunched over and you watched Rafe smack him in the back with his club again.

“Rafe! Stop!” you yell again.

“Hey! Rafe, Rafe! Come on, man!” Topper shouted, trying to get Rafe to leave before someone gets seriously hurt, more than they already have. You did not really know how to help, so you just kept yelling at him to stop.

“Stay down, bitch!” Rafe warned Pope as he towered over his body that laid on the ground in pain.

“Hey, let’s go! Let’s go, man!” Topper got in between Rafe and Pope to once again try to calm the situation and get an incredibly angry Rafe out of here. It did not work, so you went next.

“Rafe,” you spoke softly as you placed your hand on the side of his face. “Look at me.”

Rafe’s face lost most of its anger before a mischievous smile grew on it. He brought your body close to his before turning you around to have your back flush to his front side. The hand that wasn’t on his club found your neck and held you still. Once Pope noticed this, he tried to make it stop, but Topper told him that it was best to back off. Pope didn’t listen so Topper held him back.

Your heart dropped when you felt something touching your lower area. Rafe had the golf club run up your leg until it met your center and he rubbed it with the head of the club. Rafe’s hand left your neck and found your breasts. His head nudged your head to the side to allow him access to press his lips to it.

He did not listen to both Pope’s and Topper’s protests that told him to stop. You couldn’t even speak from how in shock you were. All you could think about was JJ and how much he would hate you for this. He would hate that you let this happen to yourself. He would hate it. Then, he would try to find Rafe and fight him, which would get him hurt and you don’t want that.

You were tuned out in your mind, not even feeling or realizing the touches until you felt his hand slip underneath your shorts. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to fall, but then you spoke up.

“Rafe, please stop,” you whimpered. He licked a stripe up your neck to your ear lobe before whispering in your ear.

“Until next time, princess.” With that, he stopped all actions before pushing you off of him. At that time, Topper let go of Pope and you fell into Pope’s arms, finally feeling somewhat safe again. Pope made sure it was okay to hug you before he tightened his grip on you to make you feel more safe.

“Top, let’s go!” Rafe yelled at the boy with frosted tips as he walked away. Topper looked at you and Pope in shock, never expecting his own best friend to do that. Your dull eyes met Topper’s blue ones and you saw sympathy flash in them.

“Hey, let’s go!” Rafe yelled again. This time, Topper listened before mindlessly following the Cameron boy.

“Are you okay?” Pope asked as he pulled back to look into your eyes.

“No, but I will be. What about you?” Based on the blood on his face, he did not look too good.

“Same as you. Let’s head back to the boat.”

…

“How are you going to tell JJ?” Pope asked as you two were on the way to go pick the blond up from his delivery.

“I’m not. I can’t. Not right now anyway and you aren’t either. Let me tell him when I am ready, okay?” Reluctantly, he agreed. This was something for you to tell him, not Pope. You sat down in the corner like you were earlier and pulled your knees to your chest.

“Y/n! Pope!” you two heard the giggles of your boyfriend as he ran down the dock and came onto the boat. “Dude, you are not going to believe what just happened to me, man! Whoo! That was the best hundred bucks I’ve ever made! When I say count me in on all these grocery deliveries, Pope, I mean it.”

“What’s up with you two? Bro, you good?” JJ asked as you and Pope stayed oddly silent and Pope wore a scowl on his face, staring blankly out into the water ahead of him. JJ leaned forward to get a better look at Pope before noticing some blood. “Yo, what happened to your face, dude?” JJ questioned before he lifted Pope’s hat to see all the damage that had occurred earlier. “Jesus! What happened?”

“Rafe and Topper jumped me. They said no pogues on their side of the island,” Pope told him the bare minimum which you were thankful for.

“Where were you, y/n? Because I swear if they laid a finger on you, I will-” JJ started as his anger built up at the thought of them even touching you.

“No! Babe, Topper held me back from interfering, but that was it. I didn’t get hurt or anything.” JJ nodded before turning back to Pope to deal with his situation.

“What are you gonna do?”

…

You were happy with your decision to not tell JJ because he convinced Pope to sink Topper’s boat. If he had known what had actually happened, there was no telling how far he would have gone and how much trouble he would get in for his actions. You were already scared of what might happen if they get caught for sinking the boat.

Now, everyone was at the chateau, just hanging out. You were on the couch with JJ, all cuddled up. Pope was sprawled out on the pullout and John B and Kie were outside starting a fire for you all before you guys went out to lay on the hammocks.

JJ had his hands on you the entire time, whether they were on your thighs or your waist. They were always on your body somewhere. Then his lips connected to your neck, right where Rafe’s tongue was hours earlier. You shuddered at the thought before shifting around uncomfortably in your seat.

“You good, princess?” The last word rang in your ears. JJ had always called you princess, but now it felt different. It felt different because it’s what Rafe called you when he touched you. It did not give you butterflies anymore. Instead, it made you sick. You felt the bile rising in your throat, but you made sure it didn’t make an appearance.

“I’m gonna get something to drink. You two want anything?” you asked as you rose from your place on the couch. JJ eyed you before shaking his head. Pope declined as well. You walked over to the next room before opening the fridge to look for something to drink. You could not hear it, but JJ was whispering to Pope about you.

“Dude, what happened earlier? She’s been acting weird ever since. It had to be more than just Topper holding her back,” the blond quietly asked his best friend. Pope looked over at you searching through the fridge for a beverage, completely unaware of the conversation your boyfriend and best friend were having. It would be the perfect time to tell JJ, but he promised you. He wanted to tell him because it is what is best for you, but he promised he wouldn’t. He was beginning to regret that promise.

“I don’t know what her deal is,” Pope responded, keeping it short and sweet.

“Did she talk to you about anything? Like our relationship? It’s just something feels off between us. She’s been weird about me touching and kissing her which she has never done. It’s freaking me out. I don’t want her to break up with me.”

“She’s not going to break up with you,” he softly spoke. “I wish she would just tell you,” Pope muttered under his breath.

“Tell me what?” JJ asked. Pope looked at him with wide eyes. He did not intend for JJ to hear that last part. There was no getting out of it now and he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep the secret in for much longer anyway. It was eating him alive.

“Okay, don’t freak out, but Topper didn’t just hold her back. When Rafe was beating me with the club, she stepped in between us and Rafe started to touch her in places he shouldn’t and kissed her neck and stuff. When I tried to help, Topper held me back. There was nothing I could do,” Pope blurted out. He watched your head pop up from behind the fridge door before you slammed it shut, anger filling your veins.

“Don’t freak out? Pope, I’m going to kill those bastards!” JJ shouted as he stood from the couch.

“This is exactly what I didn’t want. Thanks for nothing, Pope,” you spat before you stormed out of the chateau with tears streaming down your face. It was the first time you really came to terms with what happened. It was like it was real now that JJ knew. You had been kind of dismissing it up until now. You hated yourself for it. You felt like you walked right into it. You grabbed his face. You initiated it. You allowed it. It was your fault. You should have just stayed in the boat like you were supposed to but, you didn’t want to be alone.

“Wait, y/n!” JJ called out to you as he ran after you. He ran in front of you and stopped you in your tracks.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right? And I won’t leave you or think any less of you. I love you, y/n. If you really don’t want me to fight them, then I won’t, but I think something should be done. It’s up to you though. Can I hug you?” You nodded before falling into his arms as you broke down in them. Everything you were scared of, he made you feel better about. He was so caring and sweet. He loved you and you loved him. You had nothing to be ashamed of. You did not cause this. It was not your fault.

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artsninspo · 4 years ago

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Unexpected Renaissance (Tre X Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Trevante Rhodes X Reader

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: When Tre and the reader meet at his fraternity’s party they have no idea the kind of bond heading up to his room is bound to create.

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I was in my junior year of college when you met Tre. A totally different person; stuck up, condescending and exclusively committed to your artistic pursuits. I felt disconnected from my culture but connected to my ancestry unable to find beauty in the mundane everyday stuff that makes black beautiful. Guess surburbia and privilege can do that to a person. My mother decided to take a sabbatical and my father being a dean organized my special permission to have a roving semester. I was never interested in my mother’s mystification of the south or how she spoke about it with all its lore.

I was mortified to hear my cousin Toya didn’t know what to do with her life. But tapping into my inner artist you listened anyway considering it might be good inspiration for some work. While both of my parents went to survey some family land Toya painted my face.

“You ever been to a college party?” She asked.

“Of course… I’m in college” I stated obviously making Toya snicker.

“You’re a real bitch you know that. But still you my cousin - that’s what this family does they judge me. But you see, I’m a real bitch, I’m not gonna let you go out sad in whatever this shit is. Aren’t you supposed to be an artist?” She asked the real deal from then. “Is it avant garde or some shit I don’t understand?” She added making me smile.

“Some shit” I nodded.

“Yeah well you ain’t about to wear them rags around me. What size are you?” She asked.

“12”

“I’m sure my mama got something laying around that looks better than those rags. Cause I bet you’re into that classist sustainability bullshit too huh” Toya snapped.

“Yes I am, but I think it should start with the corporations and the rich. The lower classes naturally practice many sustainable methods.” I acknowledged.

“Good, then you ain’t all the way air headed” she commented pulling out a dress.

“I’m not a scholar I’m an artist” I clarified.

“They make y’all pay for that too? Any of those niggas in museums degreed up?” Toya asked smug as always.

“You’d do well in intellectual circles.” I commented putting on the dress and denim jacket.

“And you’re about to tear up this party” she smiled looking at me in disbelief.

The ride to campus was short and we could hear the music from the house once we got out the car. I’d never been to an HBCU before. I especially stayed away from fratboys. I watched as people greeted Toya with familiarity.

“Who’s your homegirl?” One of the guys asked. Clearly high ranking in the sorority by his confidence and posturing.

“Met her at the hair store, you said you want pretty girls” Toya justified omitting our familial relations, taking his hand and disappearing. It wasn’t until about an hour or so later that she returned and him and a few other guys got into line that I saw Tre. His movement in the stroll caught my eye and so did his arms.he had this elegance and the way the light his his skin was perfect. I didn’t realize I was staring until he was beside me. I got a closer look at his biceps .

“Tre, like what you see?” He introduced and I snickered wiping my eyes at his confidence.

“You crossed the room” I noted.

“I thought it was the right thing to do with you staring so hard” he commented. He kept talking but my mind was wrapped up on all the pieces I could create with him as the subject. My final project was on black version of renaissance art.

“What does your penis look like?” I asked interrupting him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wow, you came in with Toya right? That happened pretty fast” he swallowed as his air of confidence deflated slightly.

“What’s it look like, you have pictures on your phone?” I asked.

“Is it a prerequisite?” He asked and nodded.

“Actually it is” I responded truthfully. The tiny penises on the most renowned works of art never sat well with me. Appreciating the beauty of the sculptors work only so see those tiny members always was a sore point. Tre motioned for me to follow him in his room. I noticed eyes on us, even Toyas. He closed the door and I looked around a bit noting the minimal design.

“I bet that bed is filthy”

“Nah, I like clean sheets” he commented taking his shirt off leaving his gold chain. It made me smiled as I decided to add that touch.

“How tall are you?”

“Six feet” he noted as you stored the I information in my memory bank trying to consider how expensive it would be to do a life size sculpture in dark stone.

“Fuck” I muttered making him smile.

“You don’t want no foreplay or nothing, we can just get to it?” He asked dropping his pants and by far the best shaped and well endowed nude model I’d ever come across. Not to mention he was handsome. I circled him using my gift - a laser accurate photographic memory. I needed the body to be perfect. I could ask him for pictures of his face later I thought.

When I got up from looking at his member there was sheer confusion in his eyes.

“What, you want me to sit?” He asked confusing me.

“You can put your clothes back on.” I commented ecstatic.

“What the fuck?” He asked dressing. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

“I’m sorry, you just had perfect biceps. I’m an artist and I think you’d be an excellent sculpture. I’m probably gonna sketch you when I get back home” I told him as he grabbed his shirt. He was dumbfounded and annoyed.

“What kind of-“ he started about to blast me so I pulled out my phone finally coming back into reality and the evident danger.

“Look, I’m an artist - senior year I want to have a collection, enough for an exhibit. I’ve been waiting for the perfect subject to model a sculpture after. Michelangelo’s David is beautiful. He may have me in skill but you have David by at least six inches. In scale” I explained tempering the tension and complementing his manhood. The fire faded in his eyes as he looked through my digital portfolio.

“You did all this” he looked surprised and impressed.

“Yeah, I think it’s important for black people to enjoy art they can see themselves in” I admitted.

“You’re lucky you think my biceps are beautiful any other guy would have been fucked up with you getting that close and not sucking” he said frankly.

“My sincerest apologies.” I admitted and he smiled. “Think Toyas ready to go?” I asked.

“Nah” Tre said telling me she was occupied with his eyes.

“Alright thanks, thanks for being cool about my request” I nodded.

...

Tre was different than any other subject. It was like he was iridescent. I got another dimension another colour, more depth anytime I looked at him. Toya came home from her work one day saying Tre wanted me to call him. She never asked about that night so I didn’t say anything. We talked all night. Then there was another party and this time I went with my sketchbook and coals he stood with shirtless as I tried capturing his chest and shoulders having finished his rough outline.

Then he was visiting museums with me. Stopping by my makeshift studio in the sabbatical house nearly shitting himself every time pops came in to inquire about my progress. He was there when I cursed out suppliers and cried at the cost of a life sized adaptation, immortalization through art. He was there when the sabbatical and semester were over and we were heading back home. Then there was a Tre sized hole with me. I missed him, I missed our conversations and somehow all the art school politics, drama and preoccupations meant a little less. I found myself drifting away from superficial and towards real. My renaissance was happening at the same time I was preparing my exhibit. My Mona Lisa had brown skin and cornrows — it was Toya.

Tre and I didn’t cross paths again because of my travels until my graduation. He was visibly absent from the exhibit and frustrated about it. I’d never put out anything wit I’m that wasn’t perfect. I showed him my favourite places, I just got my own place afforded by my art instead of my parents wealth. We had sex that night, a fitting way to celebrate. He’d made a comment about not seeing me naked and how it wasn’t fair. I told him he wasn’t going to. Wrapped my insecurity on the moral high ground of not living for the visual satisfaction of men. Tre being Tre - a good man let me get away with it. Still we ended up in my unlit living room going at it on the couch. He used his hands to make mental notes. He took his hands feeling every curve, every roll every imperfection before showing me sex with artistic geniuses and proteges was nothing. I knew I loved him when he woke up and covered me over respecting my wishes about being seen. Somehow that night turned into every night for two weeks. Then he moved in three weeks later. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

I slide my stool back looking at the life sized sculpture of my man. I swallow a little emotional about it finally coming to an end. I swallow standing and daring to probe it for imperfections as my greatest critic. No one knows this body like I do.

“Tre!” I scream. “Tre!” I repeat with urgency like it can animate and walk out of the studio. He comes sleepily leaning in the doorway with his eyes barely open.

“What’s wrong babe?” He asks.

“Babe, it’s finished, four years later it’s finished” I squeal jumping into his arms and it’s a miracle he catches me smiling as he holds me close. I’ve never toiled at anything this long.

“So are you sick of looking at me yet?” He teases and I smile as he kisses me.

“No”

“You said once you finish we can start our family” he says with a one track mind.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” I retort.

“No” he admits.

I smile having denied him kids for the past two years since we’ve been married. The first year we were honeymooners and then the pressure for kids began. He stood with me in solidarity for the public while wearing me out behind closed doors. I stopped taking my birth control six months ago and have been neglecting my real husband for the art piece.

I step down from his hold taking off my glasses and gloves.

“Tre?” I ask putting things back in their place.

“Yeah?”

“I need you for something else” I admit and he swallows nodding despite his agitation the greatest husband ever. I can never thank Toya enough for dragging me to that party.

“What babe?”

“Let’s get started on our greatest masterpiece yet” I smile and it takes the double-entendre awhile to set in before he smiles ready and we get started.

______________

TAGLIST:

@determinednot2fall @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @chaneajoyyy @thickemadame @longpause-awkwardsmile @klaylakayblack @amelatonin @just-juicee @xo-goldengirl @ljstraightnochaser @itsjustyazz @soufcakmistress @nijajoha @iamrheaspeaks @4tprincess @justgetitoverwith0 @queenflaws @abeautifulmindexposed @coveredingodiv @nahimjustfeelingit-writes@champagnesugamama @heavensangelxo @bugngiz @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tip222u @keiva1000 @doublesidedscoobysnacks @shalynn-m @bakarilennox @tyees @damienwitcher

#burning sands #Trevante Rhodes #trevante rhodes x reader #trevanterhodesimagine #trevante x black reader #trevante

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years ago

Photo

BIRTHDAY CAKE — RAPPER!JAKE HEADCANONS 🎂 🎁

anonymous asked: what do you think rapper!jake would get you for your birthday? warnings: mentions of sexual content & curse words. notes: i listened to the solo version of birthday cake by rihanna so join in if you want to <3 thank you anon for asking this okay ilysm whoever you are you’re so perfect! i wanted to post it when i was born but i couldn’t wait any longer! ps: the gifs are not mine, but i couldn’t find who made them since they were reposted on pinterest. i hope y’all enjoy the chain (and this too)!

why would rapper!jake get his birthday bitch, huh?

everything she ever dreamed of, of course.

birthdays would start at midnight and end at the same hour the next day, no excuses.

he would wake you up with gentle kisses along your shoulder. “good morning, angel, it’s your special day”. when was it not when you’re one of the biggest hip hop artists’ girlfriend?

you would protest, grabbing on his arms that were around you tighter so he would not move. but he did. he pulled the blankets of your naked body and helped you turn so you were laying on your back.

no matter how many years the two of you have shared together, you were always excited for what was coming next.

(pun intented)

jake would leave kisses down your entire body, making his way down to your core by leaving light hickeys.

your legs would slowly open up for him, and you would wrap them around his head when he finally reached the right spot.

he brags about your head game all the time, but boy got some sweet skills too. he has you mewling, whimpering, shaking and he’s only a few licks and gentle bites in.

by the time you’re close to the edge, he stops. “count down for me, baby.” so you count down from your your age to 0. i pity you if you’re like 35. rip @ your pussy. he doesn’t make it easy for you. he nibbles on your thighs, he leaves kisses absolutely everywhere. he dips his tongue in your wetness, teasing your hole (or both of them because why not? it’s your birthday, girl, be wild!). and when you FINALLY reach 0, you’re absolutely exploding.

you’re screaming his name. you almost forgot that what? five minutes ago? you were having sweet fantasy dreams of jake as a knight and you as the princess of the candy kingdom.

jake’s face emerges from your pussy, covered in juices as he gives you a playful smirk. “you’re just like wine, you taste better with age.”

and he’s got you laughing and trying to gently kick him.

he will deny you any attempts of paying him back. he’s got other things on his mind.

he sets you back under the blankets nicely and reach out for your nightstand, handing you your favourite plushie that you leave here at all times as he presses a kiss on your forehead. “just had my fave breakfast but i’m ,’bout to make some more.” he would wink. “whataya want?”

pancakes, waffles, froot loops, spaghetti, brownies, listen, you could have whatever you wanted.

you opted for waffles this year. and jake, who happened to be quite the talented chef, and before you could fall asleep again, he brought you a large platter of waffles, cut fruits and maple syrup with a hot chocolate.

you turned on the television and found some crappy reality television to watch. at midnight, it was either that or a marathon of pawn stars. on the screen, there were some old episodes of say yes to the dress. jake paid attention to your reactions in front of the dresses and the brides. he made mental notes of your preferences.

once you were done eating, you turned one of your favourite movies on. it was some disney film jake actually loved although he would never admit it out loud.

eventually, the sun started to rise outside.

and the fun was really starting.

jake listed what the two of you would do today: he would take you to the mall early so no one would bother you as you went from store to store, trying everything from prada, chanel, gucci and whatever you felt like it. and then, you would go for brunch. and then he would take you for a walk around the park. just the two of you.

and you did all that, while jake carried all of your shopping bags and helped you bring them back inside the mansion when it was time for a power nap.

the thing was: you weren’t sleepy.

and neither was jake.

he noticed that little sparkle in your eyes. he knew it so well.

you were needy. and even if, most of the time it would annoy him when he had better plans in mind, he let it slide this time.

he placed his hand on your head and helped you lean down on your knees.

you palmed at his growing bulge. you freed it from his pants and he went to sit on the couch. he let you entertain yourself, lazily sucking and licking his length when his other, much more important present, was being prepared outside without you noticing.

you cockwarmed him in your throat for a while.

“why you bein’ so generous to me? it’s your day, we gotta do what makes you happy.”

“you make me happy”.

HE COULD HAVE PUT A RING ON YOUR HAND RIGHT THERE (but after he came in your mouth, he had better priorities than marriage).

FINALLY you heard noise outside. you swallowed his load and licked your lips clean, crawling towards the large windows to take a peak of what was going on.

there was a lamborghini.

of your favourite colour.

bouquets and balloons were overflowing from the open doors and top.

your jaw dropped.

“i don’t even know how to drive?”

jake stood behind you and gently went to pet your hair.

“i’ll teach you.”

and you ran outside like an excited child, smelling roses and kicking helium balloons on your way. you sat behind the wheel and imitated the noises of the engine.

jake was so fucking in love with you.

he went to sit on the passenger seat and fixed the brakes, instructing you to press the pedal to rinse the engine safely.

he couldn’t even hear the vroom vroom over your happy giggles.

“it’s not over yet.”

jake got out of the car and went to your side, kissing you lovingly, his chain tickling your chest when he leaned forward. “follow me, angel.”

and you did. you arrived just in time, some friends had made it to the backyard where a gigantic cake and even bigger teddy bear were waiting for you. the teddy bear was holding a present bag with your favourite disney characters printed all over it.

everybody melted at the sweet thought.

jake suddenly switched in his attitude.

he grabbed something from behind the cake, a large jewelry box. he presented it to you.

you opened it.

there was a chain, similar to his, shining under the golden hour sun.

he put it on you as you let out a happy tear.

you shared the cake with your close friends. you were taking photos. posting them all over instagram. and fans were going crazy at the sight of jake looking so happy and relaxed.

people left.

you both started to run out of energy.

so you went to bed, it was almost midnight again.

and you made love. it was passionate, it was loving, it was sweet and it was incredible. it could not be compared to anything else jake has ever done to you. it felt as though your hearts were beating on the same rhythm. your eyes were locked the entire time as you both reached your high in this slow, but deep pace.

and when you finally closed your eyes to relax, jake managed to stretch his arm out and grab something from the night stand drawer.

you thought he was grabbing some bullet vibrator.

no.

it was an even smaller box than this afternoon.

“i bought this shit a long ass time ago,”

jake’s voice was cracking under the stress.

you encouraged with a gentle caress on his bearded chin.

“don’t fuckin’ cry or imma cry too.”

too late, you were both crying rivers. and chuckling. and shaking.

he did not even finish asking the question. he forgot the speech he prepared when he was eating you out earlier, thinking of romantic shit to say.

you said yes.

jake couldn’t see straight.

but he managed to put the ring on. it was the prettiest ring you have ever seen in your entire life.

after a ton of i love yous.

he found his phone somewhere on the bed and took a photo.

you looked awful and tried to cover your face with your hand.

“my bitch forever and ever happily ever after”.

he captioned the photo.

truth be told, he was so skillful that he did all of this without pulling out of you.

and he went at it again.

with more vigor. but with just as much passion.

“y’makin’ me feel so good wifey”.

perhaps wifey was the new bitch.

#jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal smut #topic: rapper!jake #completed requests #jake gyllenhaal x reader

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playing--koi · 5 years ago

Text

Creatures Alike

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning(s): SMUT, brief mentions of violence and torture, brief mentions of blood and injury, swearing, unprotected sex (y’all this is a mythical world, but stds are very real here so keep that shit locked up)

Summary: A mysterious Witcher saves you from criminal sacrifice and quite a grim background of servitude and torture. Since he’s decided to nurse you back to health and treat you with compassion, you’ve felt something awaken inside of you for the first time in your bleak life.

Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

The coarse bark of the tree trunk pressed painfully into the skin of your back. You weren’t sure if the liquid you felt soaking through your rags was that of sweat or blood. The hot, sticky air of the forest was palpable and, if you weren’t otherwise occupied with being tied to a tree, no doubt the heat would’ve instead been the subject of your complaints.

So how had you ended up tied to a tree? Simple. You were a criminal, ostracized and locked away; a long life of torture awaiting you for the murder of your village’s king. However, you didn’t regret it. Hell, you’d practically give anything to go back in time and do it all over again, savoring the vision of that vile man’s blood that glistened upon your dagger.

He got exactly what he’d deserved and you’d sworn to every high priestess sent to talk to the “daughter of Lilit” that you’d never repent. As far as you knew, you had no relation to the demon goddess of the night, intent on exterminating the human race; though you decided you’d lean into it. It was easier to claim Lilit’s likeness than to relive the horrors that you’d experienced at the hands of that man.

You were an orphan that’d been left on the doorstep of the king one night. It quickly became the subject of town gossip because your ears showed that of elven heritage. Not fully, but certainly enough to be recognized. Against all suggestion from his council, he decided to take you in to one day become a servant girl. The village ate that garbage up from the palm of his unscathed, perfectly manicured hands; woes of his “kind, gentle spirit” and “innate care for all creatures, no matter how disgusting”.

It made you sick. He made you sick. With his creative list of unthinkable punishments that he saved for only you. The halfblooded elf who was used as an outlet for his rage. His council knew, his family knew, neighboring royals knew. And no one batted an eye. If it kept their king happy, drain the elf’s blood.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you killed him. But evidently it was. There was talks of hanging you, burning you at the stake, stoning you to death; frankly, you’d lost track of the plethora of capital suggestions. Everyone cried of how ungrateful you were. That he’d accept one of your kind just to be murdered for his generosity. It almost made you laugh that these people were so busy sneering at you over a man that they only pretended to know the first thing about. In their minds, the honorable king would never lay a finger on an innocent creature, but oh, how wrong they were.

And now here you were. In the stead of public execution, you were now being offered as a sacrifice to the griffin that had been terrorizing the village. You’re pretty sure that everyone knew one lousy meal wouldn’t do anything to quench the abomination’s blood-thirst, but everyone was excited by the idea of a painful, terrifying, and gruesome death for a criminal such as yourself. Well, fuck them too.

You weren’t quite sure why they’d tied you up in the forest, considering griffins mostly traveled by flight, making it nearly impossible to see you hidden within the tree tops and thick foliage. Either you’d die by some miracle of the griffin finding you or perhaps another horrid creature, starvation, dehydration, or bandits. So many options, lucky you.

Lightheaded due to exhaustion and overheating, you couldn’t tell if you were imagining the noises that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. After years of mental torture and loneliness, you were more than aware of your mind’s ability to hallucinate quite grand things. Like that one time you’d managed to have an entire argument with your dinner rations. And you weren’t even sure if you’d won.

However you couldn’t imagine that your own mind would be able to conjure up the noise that you’d just heard. A growl so menacing and threatening, you were sure this was your end. And you hadn’t even seen the beast yet. You’d been through a lot, so you were not usually convinced that you wouldn’t survive something because, after so many days spent begging not to, you still prevailed. But this might actually be it.

And then you saw it. After many tales of such a beast; paintings, sonnets, songs, epic novels: a griffin. It was huge, grotesque, and sinister. Its face looked permanently smug as it traipsed in and out of your vision through openings. And it was on foot; how peculiar. But the closer you looked, the easier it was to see that it was injured. With a trail of blood closely following it, you concluded that it must’ve been its wings because, had it been another extremity, it probably wouldn’t have been walking as easily as it was.

But what creature would attack something so massive and menacing?

You kept your breaths as silent as possible, remaining as still as you could. You weren’t sure how good its hearing was. You didn’t really know much about griffins. You didn’t really know much about anything, to be honest. Spending most of your life hidden from the world certainly did an excellent job of also hiding the world from you. Whenever you could sneak a book from the king’s library, you would, but any of his more riveting, knowledgable ones were kept very far from your reach.

It was now far darker than it had been just a few minutes before, so you prayed to the gods that it wouldn’t see you. Seeming to be wandering aimlessly, the creature’s steps were slow and heavy before it made a sort of bedding with the surrounding leaves and curled up—as much as such a large body could “curl”—and began to snore.

Great, I pray to the gods for safety and instead they send a griffin to my exact location where it falls asleep, no doubt ready to maul me the moment I make an inkling of a sound. What a fucking joke.

Before you can agonize for too much longer, you see a flash of white in your peripheral vision and you whip your neck to face it. You see a man. A very large, very intimidating man with long white hair and dressed head to toe in black. He had weapons sheathed on his back and moved with a swiftness of someone who really knew how to use them. And he appeared to be purposely moving closer to the griffin. Oh no. He was going to wake it up and you were both going to die.

Well, he was just speeding up the inevitable. So you decided to watch. At least enjoy some entertainment in your last moments.

You couldn’t help but notice his pure beauty and the rugged nature of it. He was a daunting presence, one of indisputable importance and humble pride. He moved like both the lion and the gazelle; he was a contradiction, both gentle and dangerous. Reckless yet careful. Gods, he was approaching a griffin, yet it seemed to be just a daily occurrence for him. Maybe you both were going to live if his stature was anything to go by.

He was then standing over the sleeping body of the griffin, unsheathing his sword with delicacy so as not to awaken the beast. And without a sliver of hesitation, he chopped the overgrown bird’s head cleanly off its shoulders.

You gasped without a thought and he quickly searched the darkness for the source of the noise and you could feel the blood drain from your face. Sure, he’d saved you from the imminent danger, but what if he was the new imminent danger? A man that confident and sly couldn’t be underestimated by a prisoner tied to a tree.

In the dark of the night, you could make out his eyes just as they found you. His brows furrowed, no doubt confused by your predicament. You couldn’t imagine it was a common occurrence to find a woman tied to a tree in the middle of a forest right after killing a griffin. He slowly began to inch closer to you before he was only a few footsteps away.

You could now make out the rich amber of his eyes as they scanned your…dilemma. His face was nothing short of perfect— sculpted by the delicate fingers of the gods—and mauled ever since by the cruelty he’d clearly faced on the continent. His face was dirty and battered, like he’d picked a pub brawl with the wrong gang of thugs. But after seeing the cool and collected way he slayed that animal, you couldn’t imagine him losing any fight.

And then he spoke. A deep rumble that sounded harsh to unprepared ears. His voice was that of smoke; thick and mysterious—throaty and coarse. It awoke something primal in you that’d been stifled perhaps your entire life. So much so that you’d forgotten to listen to what he’d actually said.

“Ma’am?” He inquired, clearly trying to get your attention. Little did he know he had it undivided.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t resist.

“Who are you?” You wondered aloud, your voice remaining constant in such a threatening situation. Due to the trials of your life, it’d been a long time since you feared death.

“Geralt,” he grumbled. Well, it didn’t exactly cover the complexities of your question, but it was a start.

“Are you going to kill me, Geralt?”

He grunted in response, but you could swear you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. He pulled the sword from its place hilted on his shoulder and you closed your eyes to brace for impact, but instead of an untimely demise, you simply felt your balance slipping as the rope was no longer holding you up straight.

Before you could land face-first on the forest floor, you could feel a forearm reach out and catch you around the waist. Upon opening your eyes, you could see that you were angled toward the ground and, had this peculiar man not reached his hand out and almost effortlessly stopped your downfall, you’d have had a mouthful of twigs.

He pulled you back up straight and, after no longer feeling your need for his support, he left you to stand on your own—though he watched you like a mare would her foal. Making sure you didn’t immediately go topsy-turvy. The absence of his warmth around your belly was somehow even more uncomfortable than the sweltering heat. You couldn’t even begin to think how sweaty he was under all of that black leather. What you’d give to get him out of it.

You tried to physically shake the thoughts from your head.

“May I ask why you were tied to a tree?” He questioned, sizing you up, almost as if he was guessing what the reason could be himself.

“My village is convinced that I’m the daughter of Lilit, so they left me as a human sacrifice for that griffin,” you pointed to the recently-slain beast.

He raised his eyebrows at your confession. “So you’re the servant girl who murdered the king,” his eyes narrowed as he continued, “I’ve heard talk of you. You’re not exactly spoken about favorably, considering you killed one of the continent’s most well-regarded rulers,”.

You felt a pang in your chest. You were so sick of the assumptions that everyone made about you. How you were a no-good, selfish, bloodthirsty elf. Always defending yourself from people who would never know the truth. Well, if that’s what they all thought, there was no use trying to change their minds.

“That would be me.” You sneered, “Probably should’ve just left me to die, huh?” You pushed past him, stomping away from your beautiful savior. Even a mysteriously handsome man saving your life couldn’t be a source of happiness.

However you didn’t exactly have time to dwell on it too much before your vision blurred and you could feel your body giving out. You were dehydrated, overheated, starved, and possibly bleeding. When was luck ever on your side?

You crumpled to the ground, a deafening ring reverberating through your head. Your body ached as your mind blanked. You didn’t even notice that you were now being moved. Your eyes grew heavier, heavier, heavier.

There you were, back in the basement of the castle. Drenched in your own blood, the color a more muted red as it mixed with that of your sweat. Your ankle was raw from where the shackle was tightly bound to it, dirt and grime seeping within the cut.

You couldn’t possibly be back here, you’d killed him. He was supposed to be gone. But the sounds of his boots thundering down the stairs alerted you that it was far from over.

You startled awake, gasping for air. In a fit of panic, you jumped up from the makeshift bed you’d been asleep on, frantically searching the room for an explanation. You quickly came to the conclusion that you’d found yourself within an abandoned cottage of sorts. And you were not alone.

Geralt studied you with a confused intensity. His brows were furrowed as he sat in a chair that was situated next to the bed you’d been asleep in. An opened book was settled on his lap.

Your eyes drifted from him and instead looked down at your own body and saw that several areas had been bandaged, including places that you hadn’t even known to be injured.

“Clearly they’re not too kind to prisoners in your village,” He stated after seeing that you’d been studying your own wounds.

“Why did you help me?” You questioned.

He cocked his head to the side, confused by your response. He probably expected some sort of gratitude in your words instead of the cautious interrogation that he was now being met with.

“You said it yourself, I’m a murderer,” you pushed further, “so why did you help me?” You gritted your teeth, the pain throbbing in your head did nothing to assuage the rage you felt at his dismissal of you upon your first meeting.

He inhaled deeply before answering your question. “I was originally going to take you back to your village along with the griffin’s head in hopes of some sort of…compensation,” you rolled your eyes at his honesty, “but when I examined your wounds further, I didn’t think you would live through the journey without some proper treatment.” He answered frankly.

“So your plan is to heal me and then turn me in?” You scoffed.

“Originally, yes. However, the more I’ve studied you, the more curious I’ve become.” He set the book on the ground and crossed his legs, leaning further back in the chair. Even from across the room, you could feel that the probing was about to begin. “Their stories don’t really align with what I’ve seen from you. What do you have to fear? Your village speaks as if they’re terrified of you. All anyone seems to call you is the daughter of Lilit, the elf with no soul—so what would you have to be afraid of?”

You sputtered out a laugh at the sheer irony of it all. What did you have to be afraid of? What a laughable question. What didn’t you have to be afraid of?

He stood from his seat and started to walk around the bed toward you and your body reacted before your mind even had time to register. You flinched, moving to protect all vital organs from the beating you felt to be inevitable. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly, spots were collecting within your darkened vision. Time stood still as you waited for the assault, but you couldn’t even hear his footsteps getting closer.

You slowly opened your eyes and moved your face from where it was tucked into your elbow. You saw Geralt standing there, his hands up in surrender as he looked at you with the mildest bit of sorrow.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he conceded, speaking in a way one might to a frightened animal, “It was unfair of me to pass judgment on you after our first meeting. Humans do it to my kind all the time and I know better than anyone how frustrating it can be,”.

“Your kind?” Your brows furrowed.

“I’m a Witcher,”.

Your eyes widened, remembering the stories you’d snuck from the library stacks about Witchers and their superhuman amounts of power used to defeat monsters across the continent. “You’re a Witcher?” You whispered, curiosity dripping from your voice. You were desperate to hear the tales of someone so well-traveled and brave.

“That’s enough about me, little elf.” He took a step closer to you. You narrowed your eyes at the nickname, but let it go quickly; it sounded more like a term of endearment than anything else. “Now sit back down on the bed, so I can redress your wounds. All of this excitement seems to have reopened a few cuts,” You obeyed, no longer preoccupied enough to ignore the pain.

He crouched down in front of where you were seated and moved to lift up one of your pant legs in order to check on the dressings. He continued this on your arms and legs for quite a while, very meticulous in his work to insure you didn’t walk away with any infections. It was then time to look at your back, the part you’d been dreading.

Sure, you knew he’d already seen it, but your back was covered fully in scars from your years of servitude. It was unsightly and you hated the reminders.

You faced the other direction, so you were now looking away from him. You carefully removed your old, tethered shirt. You used the raggedy material to shield any sight of your breasts, although you knew he couldn’t see them from his place behind you. He began to untie the cloth and remove the bandaging, goosebumps arising wherever you felt the ghost of his touch. Grabbing a damp rag, he started to clean the gashes that littered your back. You attempted not to hiss in pain, but it failed fairly quickly.

He slathered ointment onto your burning skin, lightly massaging it into the wounds of your back, making sure to take extra care of the areas that were especially banged up. This was all so foreign to you; these hands that held you with a gentle touch. Someone alleviating your pain instead of adding to it. You sighed in contentment at the sheer pleasure of another’s hands, especially those belonging to such a beautiful specimen, however pointedly you tried ignoring that fact.

Far too soon, the caress was replaced with more bandages and gauze. You were left internally whining at the loss of Geralt’s closeness. Before you went to put your same shirt back on, he tossed you one in far better condition that he must’ve found in the cottage.

You were fighting sleep, eager to spend more time in his presence. It was so soothing to you in a way that nothing else had ever been. He took one look at you, no doubt seeing your internal fight to stay awake. “Rest up, little elf,” he insisted, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

And with that, you gave yourself permission to sleep.

You’d been trapped in the cottage with Geralt for roughly three days at this point, practically vibrating out of your own skin at the temptations you’d had to sit through. With Geralt constantly tending to you, the little amount of privacy the cottage offered, and having to bear witness to his perfectly crafted body, freshly soaked from his baths; a new side of you had suddenly awakened.

He captivated you. Your eyes followed him every moment you could get away with it. You certainly weren’t covert about it either. The feelings were just so new and profound that you were honestly just excited to be feeling them at all. Any common activity could become entertaining so long as Geralt was the one performing it.

You were entranced by his unexpected tenderness. He would sometimes sneak out at night to check on Roach when he thought you were asleep, making sure that nothing in the surrounding wood had agitated the horse. While his skills helped you to feel protected, his morality was what made you really trust him. He could’ve easily brought you back to your village, gotten a hefty sum, and been on his way. Hell, it wasn’t like you’d claimed innocence in the first place.

But no, instead he’d decided to offer you medical care using his own supplies, give you most of his hunting rations, find you shelter, and be the first person to ever treat you with true respect. So, what were you meant to do? Not develop any sort of feelings for him? That level of self control seemed utterly ridiculous.

Although it’d only been a short period of time, you felt so safe with him. He asked you questions and showed true interest in your answers. He comforted you after a few jarring nightmares. He asked your opinions on things and never made you feel ashamed if you didn’t know something. He told you some quite riveting stories of his travels and woes; of monsters and magic and all sorts of things.

You could feel a considerable predicament arising.

Before he’d left to go hunting, Geralt had been kind enough to prepare a bath for you. Your complaints of muck had probably started to annoy him at this point, so he pulled out all of the bells and whistles. Flowers, herbs, oils, scents, milks, powders; you didn’t even know what kind of concoction this was, but it felt fancy. So you were going to enjoy it.

You scrubbed your body until your skin was practically raw, not allowing even one granule of dirt to be left behind. Frankly, you’d needed the distraction that concentration brought. Anything was better than the devilish thoughts of Geralt that replayed in your mind at every moment since you’d met him.

And since it was your first time being truly alone in the cottage, maybe it was time to do something about it.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was the perfect storm of desire. The heat of the bath, the filth polluting your mind, the views you’d had the honor of seeing throughout the past few days; he was irresistible. And if the only relief you could offer yourself was within the confines of your own fantasy, then so be it.

The herbs and flowers floated around the surface of the bath as the milk and oil clouded the water, obscuring the view of your hand as it lowered down the skin of your stomach. You’d never felt such strong urges in your entire life.

It was your first time trying anything like this, but you’d had the pleasure of indulging in a few erotic novels throughout your time at the castle. Your fingers lightly caressed the flesh of your opening, teasing the sensitive area and imagining the droplets of water cascading down Geralt’s back earlier that day. How it’d feel to run your tongue across each rippling muscle, collecting the liquid in your mouth.

You sunk your middle finger into your core, feeling the wetness pooling inside of you. This man had you wound so tightly around his finger; you were practically bursting at the seams. Once you’d collected some of your slick on the tip of your finger, you pulled back and circled around your tiny bud of nerves. When you’d finally made contact, your body reacted in a way it never had before. Your legs twitched, causing some of the bathwater to splash from the tub, but you couldn’t find one care in the world, not even slowing at the sound.

A desperate whine left your mouth unexpectedly before you bit down on your lower lip, silencing yourself. The hand that wasn’t busy with your throbbing nether regions gripped the edge of the tub, almost numb at this point. You knew that if Geralt was the one doing this to you, that hand would be wrapped up in his bright silver strands. The thought of him doing anything to make you feel this immodest nearly had you drooling. His dexterous, strong hands taking ownership of your pussy, showing you just how accommodating he could be.

His name left your lips in a desperate plea as you finally found a rhythm that suited you. You felt as if your body was no longer your own as you continued your descent in the search of pleasure. You slowly worked yourself, wanting to savor this feeling. Your breaths were loud and labored as you arched your back slightly, searching for a path closer to release. Your mind replaying every word Geralt had uttered to you since you’d first met, clawing for any semblance of relief.

Your movements came to a screeching halt upon hearing the deep voice you’d come to know so well—now outside of your thoughts. You snapped your eyes open quickly, seeing his smug face staring back at you as you jumped to cover yourself as much as you could.

“Am I interrupting something?” He cocked an eyebrow.

You gasped, hot shame bubbling in your chest as you fumbled through any words you could get out. “Geralt—I’m s-so sorry, I really—”.

He slowly started to untuck and unbutton his black shirt. Your mouth went dry as more of his skin was exposed, effectively silencing your babble. The raised markings of his scars were covered in a light sheen of sweat that looked absolutely delectable. You could feel your pupils dilating, your mouth opening slightly without your control.

He smirked at the look on your face, tossing his shirt to the side. “Would you like some help?” He gave you an appreciative once-over to emphasize his proposition.

Your eyes widened as you prayed to every god that this wasn’t some twisted trickery. You nodded, fearing that your voice would betray you.

He stripped himself of his boots and the rest of his clothing. He worked quickly and gracefully, tossing the garments without a care as he walked closer to the tub. While you were obviously curious, you avoided any glances south of his abdomen, feeling too bashful to even look. Moving to get in the bath, he sat down in front of you. Now face to face, you were curious as to where he was going with this—before he hauled you up to sit on the rim of the bathtub completely emerged from the water, now completely at the mercy of his gaze. You were completely unveiled to him and you couldn’t cease the nerves that flared up in response.

He kneeled back down in the water and you quickly moved to cover you breasts. But before you could successfully shield them from his view, he moved one of your hands to grip the tub and the other to grasp onto his hair. He maneuvered your legs to rest over his shoulders, putting you on full display to his hungry eyes as his huge hands held you steady by your thighs. His dominant movements, situating you how he’d like caused a heavy pulsing feeling to arise in your already glistening cherry.

He kissed each of your thighs passionately, sucking marks into the skin with lips ghosting over each valley of skin—just shy of where you needed him most. The outline of your pubic bone, your navel; using his tongue to explore the plains and ridges of your body.

“Gods, I’ve been waiting to eat this sweet cunt since the moment I cut you from that tree,” His voice somehow got rougher in this moment, soaked in the intoxication of lust, and you could swear you almost fainted. But before you had time to burn out, you were lit afire once again as his tongue licked a long stripe up your aching center, wrapping his lips around your clit as he reached the bundle.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you let out such a guttural sound, urging him on as he made work of your sensitivity. You were covered in the wetness from your bath and, now that you were out of the water, your body felt slightly chilled which was a delicious contrast from the aching heat of your core as he devoured you. Not missing one morsel.

He pleasured you with such eagerness and paid close attention to each of your sounds, repeating movements that granted the noisiest and most reactionary ones. The obscene musing of slurps, licks, and Geralt’s moans had you seeing stars. Each time your body would pull away from him in shock, he’d simply pull you closer by your thighs, grinding you onto his face.

“You taste like heaven. How does that feel, little elf?” He questioned, golden eyes staring into your own. “Hmm?”

He was so smug, but you didn’t have it in you to be even the least bit annoyed. Because with his skillful tongue, he deserved to be smug.

You whined at the separation, desperate for the release you’ve been denied your whole life. You could barely handle another second without it. “Please, Geralt—” you nearly sobbed, panting in between words, “I’ve never felt this way before. Please let me finish on your tongue. I want it so bad,”.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes glazing over in desperation at the utterly wrecked look on your face. “Anything you want, little elf” his warm breath ghosted over your dripping cunt as he spoke, “I’ll give you anything,”.

He pulled you impossibly closer and licked into your center, using his nose to nudge and stimulate your bundle. His groans as he devoured you reverberated through your center, overtaking all of your senses as you neared the edge.

Geralt enclosed his lips around your clit, sucking it feverishly with his tongue—and your vision went white. You let out the most broken sound as your insides bursted. You tugged relentlessly on the hair that you assumed he regretted offering up to you, but his groans of pleasure actually made you question that hypothesis.

Your breaths were deep and long as you looked down at him. He was still staring up at you with a look of pride—not cockiness—like he was excited to be able to share that impure moment with you. You moved your thighs from his shoulders and lowered yourself back into the tub, pulling him in for a kiss.

Your first kiss. And it was perfect. Although the order of events seemed a bit backwards, you couldn’t have hoped for anything better.

You could taste yourself on his tongue as he pulled you closer to sit on his lap in the water. His hardened member pressed against your stomach, so you decided it was his turn. You wrapped your fingers around his thick cock, all shyness from earlier dissipating, as you paid close attention to the tip. You pumped him slowly, slowly adding more pressure as you continued.

He inhaled a deep breath, almost as if he was holding himself back. “I’m going to take you to bed now, little elf” he enunciated his statement with a quick peck, “only if you’ll have me, that is—”.

You rolled your eyes at his chivalry. “Take me to bed then, Witcher,”.

You squealed in joyful shock at his show of strength as he quickly lifted you both up from the tub, water now cascading from your bodies and onto the surrounding floor. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you simply giggled.

You both fell onto the bed with water still dripping from your bodies, soaking through the sheets. You were a quilt of limbs, wrapped up in one another as your mouths communicated longing with deep, passionate kisses. While he was your only kiss, you could somehow tell that he tasted better than any others.

He worshipped your body with his hands, offering you the loving touch that you’d never felt. Whispering praise of how good you were doing and how lovely you were and how much he’d wanted you.

When he first entered you, he kept it jarringly slow—wanting to avoid any pain—but after he’d opened you up so well, there was only mild discomfort at first. Giving into your begs, he fucked you into the sheets with your prayers of more. You clawed at his back and he wished you would dig harder, so the memory of your first time together could scar and overwrite the brutalities that currently littered his spine.

You squeezed him so perfectly and brought him such euphoria. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your divine center, each thrust bringing you both closer to your end.

“C’mon, little elf. Come for your Witcher,”. Your Witcher was what did you in. You climaxed around his thick cock, the pulsing of your orgasm sending him over the hill right along with you. Both of you unleashing the most primal noises into the skin of the other; a shared moment of vulnerability between two creatures alike. This moment in which both of your worlds tilted in the most complementary way; a change that could be felt in the atmosphere.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly as you came down, grounding yourself in his slow breathing.

Once you’d both gotten cleaned up, you curled up in bed with Geralt as you laid your head on his naked pectoral. You studied him for quite a while as he played with the damp strands of your hair, battling sleep yet again, trying your best to lengthen this moment as much as you could.

But, of course, being the observant man he is, he quickly noticed your eyelids growing heavier.

“Rest up, little elf,” the smallest simper graced his eyes as he repeated his words from the first day in the cottage, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

You closed your eyes with a ghost of a smile.

fin

A/N: Here’s my first crack at a fic for the Witcher (first of many, I’m hoping)!! I really hope you guys like it!! I’m not actually finished the series yet, so sorry if I get anything terribly wrong (I’m just trying so hard to savor it since it’s not back until 2021). I’m brushing back up on fanfic etiquette and writing style since I’m just getting back into the swing of things, so any feedback would be treasured!!! Let me know what you think, babies!

I used to have a tag list, but since it’s been so long since I was posting consistently, I’ve decided to abandon it--so if you wanna be tagged in my stuff, just drop by my ask box. I’d love to have you and I sincerely hope you didn’t hate this, ha! x g

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fic #reader insert #geralt smut #geralt of rivia smut

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clair-void-ance · 4 years ago

Text

Richard Hayden Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Richard Hayden x Reader

Word Count: Roughly 3,180 words

Author’s note: Hey! This is definitely something I didn’t expect to write lmao. I haven’t been in a writing mood lately, but after getting into David Spade again I knew I had to throw something together. Good news though! That means that I’m finally motivated to work on my other WIP’s! So expect those requests to be finished soon :)) Your girl threw this together pretty fast ngl, so hopefully it doesn’t suck lmaoo

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

If there is anything that Richard loves to do, it’s activities that leans more on the physical side. As much as he loves academic pursuits, he can get tired of trying to maintain the persona of ‘the bookworm/nerd.’ When it comes to activities he enjoys doing with you, it really just depends on what type of person you are. If it’s physical, his go to activities include fixing up vintage cars, dancing, cycling, painting, and whatever else you enjoy doing. If it’s more mental, then he enjoys laying back, reading, doing crafts, or learning something new with you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

If their is one thing that Richard admires about you physically, it’s your hair and eyes. Being a person interested in astrology, Richard knows that the eyes and hair can tell a lot about a person’s personality and self. And your’s show a person with a breathtaking personality.

And something that he really loves about you is your ability to be accepting, creative, passionate, and unabashedly yourself. You never failed to accept all parts of him, whether they were good or bad. And when you figured out the situation with this hair, you never once faltered on your love and acceptance for him. Which he appreciates more than you know.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Richard has definitely been at some low points in his life. Whether it be with his career, personality, or looks, he's been through it all. So if there's something be knows well, it's definitely a person in dire need of love and support.

When you're feeling down Richard focuses on the main thing you need at the moment. As much as he wants to listen and be supportive, he first has to deal with your body's needs. Having an anxiety attack? Do some breathing exercises, ground yourself, and take a bite of a lemon. Chest pain and irritable stomach from holding in all your negative emotions? Take a second to dance, cry, and release the negative thoughts. Then, when all that is said and done, he'll sit down with you and figure out the best way to solve your problems.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Being a small town, settle down type, Richard has always seen you two having a small wedding with all your loved ones followed by having a few children. Although he never really planned to find 'the one,' you turned his life around and showed him that he is good and secure enough to finally start living the life he always wanted. And now that he knows you'll love him forever (hair or no hair), he's confident in the quiet life you'll soon live.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or are they rather passive?

As much as he wants to be dominant and feel in control in the relationship, we all know his scrawny ass could never 😔. And we all know he would love to have someone dominate him. That being said, he loves the challenge that comes with both of you fighting for dominance. But he’s more than willing to calm down and allow you to take control more often than not.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How is their fighting?

Being the prick he is, especially with his mars in aries, it will definitely take Richard a while to calm down and discuss arguments with your. While fighting, he is vicious and acts like a wounded animal. None of it is really intentional, he just gets too heated too fast and gets caught up in his emotions. That, added to an inability to express his emotions properly at the moment he feels them, makes him a bit difficult in fights.

That being said, once he calms down and feels the guilt of his actions he immediately comes back to you and spews out an apology. If your fight was especially bad, he’ll end up setting up a nice dinner for both of you and let out a heartfelt apology. He loves you with everything he has in him, but he’s still dealing with processing and expressing a variety of feelings (plus he’s a man lmao).

G ratitude - How grateful are they they in general? Are they aware of what there s/o is doing for them?

With his string of luck and life choices, Richard is very grateful for all of the good things he has in his life; especially you. He understands first hand how fast life can turn sour, so he doesn’t take a second of his life for granted once he meets you.

He knows how much effort you’ve put into y’alls relationship and is aware of how much of impact you’ve had on his life and personality. And for everything that you do, he is deeply appreciative. And he tries to return that energy back to you 100% every day you two are together.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

After you figured out his secret about his hair, he knew that he could trust you with everything else. The only thing that he keeps to himself really are secrets that deal with surprises for you. Besides that, he shares relatively everything that concerns him.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

In a way, you both change different aspects of each other; while Richard makes you more sarcastic and ambitious, you make Richard more laid back and wholesome. But when you mix, there seems to be a harmonious balance of the perfect personality.

Furthermore, you help each other work through personal trauma and make sure that the other isn’t falling into a bought of negative emotions. That strengthens your relationship while also making you both better versions of yourself.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Being the sarcastic prick and insecure person he is, Richard is definitely someone who gets jealous easily. To him, you could have anyone you wanted; someone with hair, a better build, and definitely with a better personality. And when he sees you with a man that possess all of those things, he tends to get pretty jealous.

But he never takes that out on you. He knows that you would never cheat on him or avoid communicating your intentions. When a situation like this comes up, he usually takes a moment to contemplate his insecurities, stews in it for while, then brings it up to you. When that’s all said and done though, you both usually curl up and remind each other how much you both love and appreciate each other.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? +

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Overall, Richard is actually a pretty decent kisser. He moves in just the right ways and knows how to avoid being excessive. Additionally, with the love that he puts behind every kiss, he makes you feel loved and appreciated with every languid motion.

The first kiss you two shared was after a company party when you took him home to watch a movie. You both got bored of waiting around and doing nothing at the party, so you left to do something more fun together. After sitting on the opposite ends of your couch, you both started to slowly inch closer and closer to each other. By the time you both started cuddling together, he felt as though the time was perfect to lean in and risk it all.

And when he gripped your chin, pulled you in, and placed a slow kiss to your lips, you both knew that you wanted to turn this official.

That being said, he still wanted your consent on if things would truly turn official or not. After letting out a whispered confession of love to you, you both thought it wise to discuss your newly developed relationship.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose?

Getting married is a definite for Richard. He doesn’t care what kind of wedding it is or when it happens, he just wants everybody to know that you’re his and that he’s yours.

Not one to be overly dramatic or public about an important moment, Richard proposes to you while you two are on a camping trip together in the mountains. You had both just woken up and began drinking your coffee on a log by one of the lookouts. With the rising sun hitting your eyes an hair in all the right points, he knew that he had to propose; it was the perfect moment. Not even his nerves could prevent him from doing it.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

With this man’s wit and sarcasm, he never fails to have new and creative nicknames for you. Usually though, your nicknames depend on the type of mood he’s feelilng.

Sarcastic? My sweet turtle dove. Affectionate? Sweetheart. Playful? Sugar/Angel Face.

It just depends :)

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When in love, Richard can act like a wistful and love-struck romantic. From afar, Richard can be seen sending you longing and affectionate looks. Furthermore, when you two are near each other, people pick up the way he always drifts really close to you and continuously reaches towards your hand.

While he has a tendency to act aloof and uncaring, Richard does make it a priority to tell you how much he loves you (as well as how radiant you look to him) at least twice a day. He never wants you to feel as though he doesn’t think you are anything less than deserving of all the love you can handle. Even if you two fight, he always puts aside his pride and remembers to tell you that he loves you.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

When it comes to PDA at the beginning of you two’s relationship, Richard wasn’t too much of a fan. He was still stuck in the mindset that he had a reputation to uphold; he couldn’t be seen being soft and mushy, he had to be suave and respectable. But as you guys’ relationship progresses he begins to appreciate showing you love no matter the situation.

If you were to ask one of his coworkers on how he’s changed since being with you, they would definitely point out the fact that he has softened up considerably. He doesn’t care too much about his ‘reputation’ as much since he only focuses on showing you affection during the moments where it fits. By the time you two create a well-rounded relationship, he begins to casually brag about you and how you are the most fantastic significant other anyone could meet. It gets a little annoying, but people find it endearing do a certain extent. (it’s still Richard we’re talking about here lmao)

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship

He understands astrology and a few other personalty based aspects of people, so he acknowledges all of your quirks down to a ‘T.’ He knows your communication style, love language, argument method, preferences, etc. just by a birth date and a few other factors.

That being said, he also knows what things are particularly difficult to you, which helps when you aren’t able to communicate how you’re feeling on most occasions. (He has yet to learn how to solve his own problems with this quirk though)

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Once Richard knows that you love and support him unconditionally, he becomes the sappiest, most romantic person you’ve ever met. Although he has his cliché moments, Richard is usually creative with his methods on making you happy or keeping your relationship interesting. Most of which have to do with the office where you two work *wink* *wink*

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Being a man of high ambition and deep respect, Richard would love to help you reach your goals; no matter how big they seem. Especially if you are the same way with him.

He knows how much success and respect can mean to a person, so he will do anything to help you achieve the things you want. One aspect that he likes most about you guys’ relationship, is that you both constantly work towards bettering each other. He believes that you were both meant for great things. And if you associate great things with living off-grid and become self-sustainable, then he’ll help you achieve that.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Richard appreciates a sense of routine in his life and relationship- especially when it comes to his well-being. But this is mainly linked to his underlying trauma from childhood and career. Not that he’ll ever admit this though, he’s got a reputation to maintain.

He’s never really been given the opportunity to feel free enough to be himself and act childish. It was always, ‘act too mature and professional’ or ‘be cold, distant, and ambitious.’ When you came along though, he finally felt secure enough to open up and be himself. Which, of course, led to trying new things in your relationship. He’s down to try anything if it makes you happy; cause when you’re happy, he’s happy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Deep down, Richard is not the most empathetic person. He’s had to rely on himself for almost his entire life, so being able to read and cater to another person isn’t the easiest for him. Reading social cues on the other hand, is. That being said, his love for you runs deep and he’s willing to just about anything to make you happy. He’ll take notice of the little things you like and the gestures you’ve come to appreciate, and repeats those.

Additionally, he understands that you aren’t responsible for his healing. He knows that he is responsible for a huge majority of it, so he takes note of your empathetic nature and uses it to heal not only himself, but you as well.

When that’s all said and done, Richard comes to learn a lot about both of you and shocks all of his associates with how close you two have become over the years.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Richard values your relationship as much as he values air. Which definitely says something. The man doesn’t care that much about anything when it comes down to it (publicly that is), but he does care for you. And his is willing to quit his job, move across the globe, or do anything you wish just so that he can make you happy for even a second.

After he met you, nothing really mattered as much as you guys’ relationship. To him, those things were put on the back burner and wait. As Charles Aznavour sang, “Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears; And make them all my souvenirs; For where she goes I've got to be. The meaning of my life is she.”

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon

Richard has actually always wanted to have a child. Since he never had a father present in his life and repressed his inner child, he has always wanted to prove that he was better than his parents. That being said, he’d love to have a little girl over a son. Mainly because he knows she will bring out the softer side in him.

All in all, he just wants to nurture and care for a child that he knows will grow up to have a stunning personality and life.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

At heart, Richard is a man with a deep, passionate, and affectionate nature. He loves being close to you and enjoys laying back and spending some personal time together. He loves all sorts of kisses he receives from you. Whether they be short and sweet or long and languid, he loves them all.

When it comes to the long and languid ones though, he loves to do them while you’re cuddling together.

Is it because he knows it’ll lead to something more? Maybe....but he’ll never admit that.

Plus, sometimes he just like being held so he knows he’s cared for.

Y earning - How do they cope when they're missing their partner?

Let's be honest, Richard can become a bit of a prick when you're not around. Since you both work together, everyone notices the day's where you’re absent; cause his toxic energy goes through the roof. Although he isn't insufferable, he definitely reverts back to his sarcastic and aggressive method of communicating and acting. But he can't really help it; (his mars is in scorpio 🙄 jk jk lmao) he doesn't have someone around to treat him right y'know? When he's alone though, he tends to get a bit melancholic and revert to sitting around and waiting for you. It isn't his proudest moment in life, but he’s trying to get used to the fact that you might not always be there. With that in mind, he copes the best way he knows how: by occupying his mind. Which is usually by working on his cars or cycling.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?

Similar to his career and the things he aspires to do in life, you are something that Richard will go great lengths for. Although Richard knows when to quit, committing to a task is something that isn’t unfamiliar to him. He will work night and day to please you and keep you happy.

Need him to take the day off to help you with a task or take care of you? Done with no hesitation. Need more emotional support because of recent events? He’ll drop everything in seconds. To him, nothing is worth ruining the relationship you two have worked so hard for.

#x reader #tommy boy #richard hayden x reader #david spade #david spade x reader #richard hayden #richard tommy boy #richard hayden imagine #tommy boy x reader #tommy boy 1995 #tommy boy imagine #fanfic

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obxfics · 5 years ago

Text

Birthday Surprise

summary: it’s John B’s birthday, and you and the Pogues have something up your sleeves.

pairing: john b x reader

word count: 2,342

requested by @libby-rose-2016

a/n: i hope this is okay! you didn’t have anything specific and this is actually the second idea i tried out lmao. hope you enjoy it!

“Does everyone understand their missions?”

You, Kie, and Pope all nodded in response to JJ’s question as the four of you huddled together in the van. JJ was taking his job as mission leader very seriously, and had surprised everyone by printing out agendas from the computers at his job at the Country Club. You all had snuck out and met up in front of the Chateau earlier in the morning to brainstorm, and every minute of it you were afraid John B would wake up and catch on to what y’all were planning.

“y/n,” JJ whispered, catching your attention again from where it had been drifting. “Stick to the agenda, okay? We’re on a tight schedule which means no macking unless I specifically wrote it in, got it?”

You stifled a laugh and saluted him, your game face unwavering. Today was important, and you couldn’t afford to fuck things up. You all had a job to do.

“We’ll be waiting here for your signal,” Pope said as he gave you an encouraging pat on the back. “You’ve got this.”

You and Kie clasped arms for a second, communicating good luck with your eyes, before you stood up and quietly rolled the door open. You offered the other three on last salute and set off towards John B’s porch. You carefully hopped around on the creaky ass wood, having done this enough times during your late night rendezvous with John B when JJ had been passed out on the couch and you had to sneak past him. Finally you slipped through the screen door and you were inside. You gave yourself a quick victory fist bump before getting back to business and tip-toeing to John B’s room. As you opened the door, you felt your gaze soften at the sigh of your boyfriend’s sleeping form. He looked so cute and peaceful, so you felt a little bad about what you were about to do.

A yell left John B’s throat when you leapt onto him and screamed, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

There were a couple seconds when he flailed around thinking he was being attacked, but he quickly calmed down when he realized it was just you peppering his face with kisses.

“What the hell was that?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around you to prevent you from pulling back.

“A birthday surprise, duh.”

“Hell of a surprise, sweetheart. I thought someone was trying to murder me.”

“Nope, just my cute ass!”

He grinned at you and gently smacked your ass, causing you to roll your eyes.“I love your cute ass.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he dragged you down into a kiss, the sweet, lazy sort you loved to receive when the two of you had just woken up. Had it been any other time, you would not have hesitated to deepen it and spend the next hour in bed with him, but you forced yourself to remember you were on a mission. John B let out a cute whine when you managed to pull away and slip out of his arms.

“Why’d you stop? It’s my birthday,” he whined, crossing his arms and giving you a little pout. “Don’t I get a birthday present?”

“Oh, sweetpea, you get to spend the whole day with me. We’ve got plenty of time for your present later,” you promised with a wink. “As for right now, we gotta get you ready for brunch!”

“What do you mean?”

You grabbed his hands and started pulling him up, happy that he decided to help you instead of being difficult. You smiled up at him once he was on his feet, wrapping your arms around his waist and preening under his soft gaze.

“My dad’s making you a birthday brunch, and even managed to rope in my brothers to help.” You reached down to pat his butt and said, “Get your ass dressed so we can eat some food!”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and moved back to get to his dresser. You sat on his bed, doing your best to somewhat make it while not getting up.

“What about the others?”

“JJ’s got work until six, Kie is under lockdown until tonight when she can sneak out, and Heyward has Pope delivering shit all over the island. We’ll hopefully meet up tonight, but the boys will be exhausted so who knows.”

You bit your lip to hide a smile when you saw John B grumpily pull a shirt over his head.

“But it’s my birthday.”

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist to press a kiss against his clothed back.

“I know, JB, and they would all be here if they could, but JJ could lose his job if he missed, Kie’s parents would probably kill us if she tried to leave right now, and you know how Pope gets when he disappoints his dad.”

John B sighed, but you saw him nod. He understood what you were saying. At least you could be here, and damn did your dad know how to cook.

Your parents ran a restaurant that was especially popular with the Kooks for their weekend brunches, and although your mother had been raised in the Figure Eight as a Kook, she didn’t marry rich. Your dad had a humble upbringing down on the Florida Gulf Coast, but had moved here once he was married to your mom. Your mother, and surprisingly your grandparents, had long ago given up the whole Kook vs Pogue mentality, and your whole family loved the boys. There had even been a few times when JJ had gone to sleep at your grandparents’ place instead of the Chateau; the allure of a soft bed, warm shower, and home-cooked meal was too strong for him to resist.

Your two older brothers had both graduated and were off in college doing their own thing—the oldest studying hard and the middle enjoying the party scene—but y’all were still close, and when they were in town they both on occasion would take the time to surf or fish with the Pogues. Your family had all but adopted your friends, and it showed in the effort they put into celebrating each of their birthdays.

“What’s on the menu?” John B asked as he let you lead him out of the house by his hand. “Is Papa y/l/n making those bomb ass waffles and pancakes he made for Pope’s birthday?”

“Would you just be patient and wait until we get there?”

“You have no idea do you.”

“…Bitch.”

John B laughs and squeezes your hand. As the two of you pass by the Volkswagen, you whistle, signally for your other friends to sneak into the house and get started on their mission. You quickly dragged John B down for a kiss when you thought you heard the van door slide open and grass rustle as your friends ran for the house. You knew from experience that your boyfriend had a habit of drowning out the world around him when you kissed. He tried to follow when you pulled back, causing you to laugh and push him towards the driver’s side of the van.

“I don’t think it’s fair that you keep teasing me on my birthday,” he grumbled after starting up the Volkswagen. “You should be nicer to me.”

“I’m sorry baby,” you cooed. “I promise that I’ll stop teasing you. I just don’t want to be late for brunch, and have my brothers tease you on your birthday more than I’m teasing you right now.”

“They’ll still tease us. They always do.”

“Well you are dating the baby of the family.”

“Are your grandparents going to be there?”

“Of course! I think they might be gifting you a weekend at their vacation home down in the Keys.”

You laughed at the look on John B’s face. “I keep telling y’all that they love you more than they love their actual grandkids.”

“Fuck, I love your grandparents.”

“What about me?”

Now it was his time to laugh at you. He chanced a quick kiss to your lips before focusing completely on the road.

“You know you’re still my favorite, sweetheart.”

John B let out a low whistle when he pulled up to your family’s restaurant. Your dad couldn’t afford to close the place down for the day no matter how much he wanted to, so the balcony was filled with Kooks in their Sunday best. Your boyfriend felt immensely underdressed for his own birthday celebration. Sensing his discomfort, you slipped your hand into his and laced your fingers together.

“Come on, love, let’s go eat so much we explode.”

He couldn’t help the huge smile that grew on his face or the tears that formed in his eyes when he walked into the restaurant and saw your family waiting for him. They popped a few confetti poppers and rushed to hug him. You took a step back to allow your family to completely surround John B in their love. Your mother and grandmother kissed him on his cheeks, and your dad wished his “son-in-law” a very happy birthday. John B received firm pat on the back from your grandfather who couldn’t keep the fondness from his eyes as he grinned at your boyfriend. And then of course your brothers teased him for the look on his face when he walked in.

You walked up to him after your family had dispersed, feeling your heart melt at the watery smile you received. You cradled his face in your hands, kissing away any tear that managed to escape.

“Are you happy?” you asked.

He brushed his nose along the bridge of yours and let out a soft sigh. “I am so happy. Thank you for all this.”

“I mean, my parents did most of it.”

“No, thank you for bringing me into your family.”

His eyes closed as you ran your fingers through his thick locks and tugged lightly. “Of course, honey. I love you so much.”

“Believe me, not as much as I love you,” he whispered, bringing his lips closer to yours.

“Hey, lovebirds!” your oldest brother yelled. “You gonna eat or what?”

“I’ll kill him,” you promised, causing John B to laugh.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get some food.”

You spent most of the afternoon with your family. Like you had predicted, your grandparents had gifted John B with a weekend getaway at their place in the Keys, and he had met your eyes, the promise of a romantic trip hidden in the hazel depths. You had left him with your brothers and mother as you went to go help your father wash the dishes.

“He looks happy,” your dad observed. “He deserves it, all the shit that boy has gone through.”

“He likes the family, thank god. I think he’s still surprised Kooks like him.”

“What’s there not to like? He’s smart, polite, and he treats my baby well.”

“Dad, thank you. For, you know, accepting the Pogues.”

“God only knows the shit they get from everyone else,” your dad sighed. “They’re good kids, and I’m glad I can offer them a safe place to eat and stay when things get tough.” He reached out to touch your cheek. “And they make you happy.”

Your phone buzzed on the counter. You dried off your hands to check and saw a text from Kie. It was time. You rejoined the rest of your family and bent down to whisper in John B’s ear.

“I think it’s time for your birthday present, don’t you think?”

Suddenly he was sitting up straighter, causing you to laugh. You knew that would work to get him to leave without him getting suspicious.

“We have to go meet up with the others,” you explained to your family.

Your family were quick to say their goodbyes and send the both of you off with hugs and kisses. You almost felt bad seeing how eager John B was to get home, but you knew he would still like the surprise waiting for him.

The sun was low on the horizon when the van finally pulled up to the Chateau, and you hurried to cover John B’s eyes, causing him to let out a scoff.

“What’s this?”

“Just keep walking, will you?”

“I can’t see anything, honey,” he drawled.

“Don’t get sassy with me, John B. You’ve made this walk plenty of times drunk off your ass, so I think you can manage it now.”

Finally you managed to get him to move forward until he was standing right where you wanted him. A giddy feeling rose in you when you removed your hands from his eyes and hurried to join JJ, Kie, and Pope under the large tree in the yard. You watched as John B took in his surroundings.The other three had spent the whole afternoon covering the branches of the tree and lining the roof of the house with string lights, but the main point of the whole surprise was the picnic all set up beside JJ’s jacuzzi. A whole feast (prepared by your family) was spread out, and you were impressed with how the “Happy Birthday, John B” sign had turned out. It wasn’t anything fancy, but John B could see how much effort was put behind it.

“You guys are insane,” he breathed out. “You assholes actually planned something like this? What are we, Kooks?”

You could hear him start crying as the four of you embraced him. He loved you guys; you all were his family, and his family had done all this for him. He realized that it took the whole afternoon for them to do this, and that’s why you had dragged him out with your family the whole time.

“I love you guys,” he whispered.

“Aw, shit, we love you too, John B,” JJ said.

“We’re family,” Pope added.

“And this is just what family does,” Kie laughed.

“Happy Birthday, John B,” you finished.

#john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #obx #obx netflix #obx imagine #obx x reader

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houseof-harry · 4 years ago

Text

What Happens in Jersey Pt. 7 | G.D.

A/N - hi y’all! I hope everyone is safe and okay! I decided to post this part for the people who need a distraction from our world right now. So lmk what you think and enjoy!!! Read the last part here

Word Count - 5.8k

Warnings - none

Recap:

“How are you?”

You shrug, letting the warmth of the covers encompass your legs. “Won’t know until he talks to me.”

“You’re going to talk to him?” His eyebrows raise, genuine shock on his face. It’s clear he disapproves of your decision, but you decide to brush over it.

“Of course, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend who tried to mess up a relationship that’s important to you because he was selfish.” The bite is back in his tone from earlier today, and you’re not sure what to do.

“Gray, he can’t control how he feels. I told you, he’s one of the most important people in my life, of course I’m going to try and fix this.”

“You’ve got to me fucking kidding me.” He rolls his eyes and you huff, disappointed your night wasn’t over yet.

Something told you he’d be keeping you up for much less fun reasons than last night.

***

No matter what you said, Grayson refused to hear you out. And you were fucking pissed. Not only was he refusing to listen to you, he was acting like he had some type of claim to you, as if he could make you choose between him and Jessie.

“Grayson, stop. I’m tired and it’s late, please can I just sleep and we can talk about it in the morning?” You practically beg, your emotions draining you of the little energy you had left. You felt like you were on the verge of tears and you couldn’t handle him being as cold to you as Jessie had been.

“No! He’s just trying to get to you, Y/N. I don’t like the idea of him being with you at school when I’m not there.” The frustration was clear in his voice, his biceps bulging from crossing against his chest. His jaw was clenching as he gave you a hard look, his gaze refusing to let you go.

“You sound like a fucking animal or some shit, Gray! He would never hurt me or anything, I’ve been fine on my own this whole time and-“

“But you’re not alone now,” he cuts in, not letting you finish your sentence. You go to speak again but he beats you to it. “It’s us and strawberry now, not just you. He’s pulling some childish ass shit like this is high school but it’s not! There’s a baby involved, and he is acting like he can just fucking walk in and try and take you away.” By the end of his rant, his chest is rising up and down and his hands are in his hair, pulling at the tips to try and relieve some of the stress and anger in his body.

“Take me away from what? And I’m well aware there is a baby involved, I’m the one carrying it. I’m not a piece of meat or an incubator for you two to fight over. You’re being just as immature as him,” you argue, the annoyance in your body showing through your tinted cheeks. Your tension headache was back, resting behind your eyes and causing you to close them and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’d always experienced your emotions so physically, and it was a blessing and a curse all at once. Right now, though, it felt like just a curse.

“That’s not what I’m doing! I want what’s best for you, and to keep you happy and healthy.” You could tell he was getting tired too, the conviction in his voice weaker as his shoulders slumped.

“Seems like that’s all you and Jessie say, is that you want what’s best for me but no one has asked what I want! Not even once. Somehow you both think you know me better than me.” For the first time tonight, his face softens as he takes in your words. You decide you don’t want to hear it, though. So, you shuffle off the bed as he watches you.

“Y/N, wait. Where-“

“I’ll sleep on the fucking couch because it’s obvious that this was some fake ass fantasy or something. I should have known better than to think this would work,” you huff without looking back. You can hear his protests until you shut the door, but you continue to ignore him as you walk farther and farther from the laundry room, farther from Grayson. The living room is cold and dark, which makes you stub your toe on the side table. You hiss, grabbing the chair as you do your best to keep quiet. Of course you’d stub your toe after having possibly one of the worst days ever, you couldn’t catch a break.

You grab a blanket once you’re recovered, going to the couch to lay down. That’s when you realize you left your phone charging on the bed. You’d have to lay there doing nothing until you could fall asleep. If you could at all, with your racing thoughts and heart still beating quick in your chest.

It felt like you had lost two really important people in the span of hours. You knew Grayson would always be there, but not because he wanted to. He had to. But you also should have seen it coming. It’s rare life was kind to you, and this was no different. You almost start to get mad at yourself for getting your hopes up, your cheeks continuing to radiate heat. You’re sure if you looked in a mirror you’d see red splotches across them. It made you even more mad that you could never hide how you were feeling, you wish you could just be able to not let anyone read you so easily.

Before you know it, you feel a tear fall from your eye and down to the couch. You do your best to stay quiet as they continue to pour out of you, your new reality sinking in and the fear you felt the day you found out slowly coming back like a brick in your stomach. You prayed your baby never had to feel the way you do right now. You knew they wouldn’t, you’d be there. But it still sucks to know there are people who could hurt them.

***

You spend the early morning in the bathroom, your morning sickness worse than it had been in weeks. When you had woken up it felt like you hadn’t even slept. You had a pain in your neck from the hard pillows on the couch and your back hurt from how tense you still were. Getting sick wasn’t helping, either, but at least you knew how to deal with that.

You only perked up when you hear a knock on the door, your head rolling up from where it rested on your shoulder as your body slumped against the wall. You only managed to hum, words too much right now.

“Y/N?”

Grayson’s voice rings through the bathroom, echoing against the tile and porcelain surrounding you. You feel anxiety wash over you again, unable to comprehend having another conversation with him right now. So you merely hum again, confirming that it’s you in the bathroom without engaging with him.

“Are you okay?”

You’re unsure of how you should answer because physically you weren’t okay right now but you’d be fine. Mentally, you weren’t so positive abuot.

You sigh, doing your best to sit up all the way without the help of the wall. Grayson doesn’t like the silence that follows his question, his impatience shining through as he tries to jiggle the handle.

You roll your eyes, one hand gripping the edge of the toilet as you slowly get your feet underneath you to try and stand.

“Y/N, please let me in.”

“What if I’m shitting?” You snap, your voice weak and raspy from your lack of sleep and still raw from when you last got sick.

“I heard you throwing up, please let me help.” His words are quick to fall from his mouth, his stress more apparent to you now that you were less foggy in the head.

“Don’t need it.” You do your best to sound confident, but to your dismay your voice is weak and tired, a reflection of how you feel.

Grayson pauses, deciding what the best route was with you. You always seemed so resistant to help, and he didn’t want to push you but this is what he does. When he cares about people, he wants to make sure they’re okay if there’s anything he can do about it. Between your conversation – alright, fight – last night and how sick you were this morning, he was truly worried about you. He wasn’t always good with his words and let his jealousy take over last night.

“Remember literally two days ago when I said I’d be there with you for all of this? And you agreed? Please let me in.”

By this time, you’d managed to stand, your vision spotted for a second before you were able to orient yourself. You make your way to the door, and before you can even open it yourself he’s pushing it wide open, his eyes wide as they finally fall on your figure. He can see the way you seem smaller, weaker than normal and his chest hurts because of it.

He had come to learn quickly you were a strong willed, confident person. It took a lot to take you down, yet he had managed to do it in the two days you’d spent together. Guilt slowly worked its way from his heart to consume his whole body. He reaches out to you, trying to bring you into a hug. You put your hands on his chest to stop him, and he reluctantly respects your boundaries.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” A baffled laughed passes your chapped lips as you grab the door with one hand, leaning on the door frame so that you can have some type of support as you box him out of the room.

“I’m tired, I feel sick, I’m emotionally drained, and I need a shower. And stop giving me the fucking pity eyes.”

Grayson sighs, his gaze falling from you and finding the ground. He fidgets in front of you, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t pity you but he does want to help.

“I’m done, so if you-“

“Done?” He feels his stomach drop to his ass the moment the words leave your lips. Yeah, he’d been selfish and a bit douchey, but you knew he could be like that sometimes. He didn’t think you’d just end it, not that fast.

“Done puking, I just need some water.”

As soon as he hears your explanation, relief releases his tense muscles a bit.

He nods, resisting the urge to rub your cheek or squeeze your hip before backing up. “Do you want to come downstairs with me?”

Your mouth opens to respond, but no words come out. Honestly, you want nothing more to sit on the couch or in his bed, blankets surrounding you as you do your best to rest. But, you truly weren’t sure if you could get down the stairs. It was hard enough dragging your legs to the bathroom door, and downstairs was a lot farther than that.

Grayson raises his brow, still waiting for a response. He had taken a step away from you to start walking, but stopped when he noticed your lack of an answer to his question.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just stay in here.” You nod, as if it would make sense to hang out in the bathroom even though you’d already told him you weren’t going to be sick again.

“What’s happening, please tell me,” Grayson begs softly, the concern coming back through his body as he watches you contemplate your words carefully.

“I just,” you shrug, your brain foggy once again as it has to work hard to talk to him, “I’m tired.”

“So then come lay down on the couch, I’ll bring you some water,” he reasons.

You shake your head, unable to look at him. Admitting weakness was hard enough, but after last night it felt impossible to do with him.

“Why not?” He does his best not to get frustrated, or sound it at least.

“Too tired,” you mumble, forcing the words out so you could end the conversation as soon as possible.

“Too tired to go downstairs?” You simply nod, grateful he finally got what you were saying.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, he’s walking back to you and reaching around to turn off the lights. He wraps an arm under yours, his hand finding your waist like it was meant to be there always. Your arm falls from the door to hold his shoulder as you give in, the idea of being on the couch too pleasant to pass up.

He guides you slowly and after every step you continue to lean on him more and more. He was warm and strong, the totally opposite of how you felt right now. It annoyed you he could still make you feel good even when he’d pissed you off, he shouldn’t hold that power over you already.

He gets you situated on the couch, watching you put the blanket over your lap. He looks about ready to speak, but decides against it and getting you a glass of water instead. When he comes back, you graciously accept it with a small smile, the cool condensation on the cup managing to make your head clear a bit.

Grayson stands awkwardly near you, fiddling with his fingers as he debates whether or not to sit with you. After a minute of watching you sip your water, he lets himself get comfortable on the couch, a good foot or two between you two.

You keep your gaze at the blank TV, letting the water soothe your throat. You’re sure your eyes were still puffy from crying last night, but you hope he thinks it’s related to being pregnant or something.

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” His gruff voice comes from deep within his chest, like he didn’t want the words to come out.

“What’s there to say?” You can’t even bring yourself to look at him as you say it, knowing that no matter his reaction, you’d be disappointed.

“Y/N,” he sighs and you hear him shifting to turn to you. “I’m sorry.”

You nod, biting your lip and continuing to act like the rest of the room is so much more interesting than looking at him. Even if he means it, you’re not sure what to say. All you expected was to be treated with respect, and you feel like he didn’t do that. How would he treat your kid? You just didn’t know him well enough to trust he won’t, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

Once Grayson realizes you’re not going to respond verbally, he reaches out to grab your forearm lightly. You pull away, taking another drink of water.

“Y/N, come on.”

You roll your eyes, your anger quickly building again.

“What, Grayson? You apologize once for making me feel like shit for caring about my friend because you’re jealous so now I have to forgive you and act like everything is good? We’ve barely known each other for a few months, not even two. How am I supposed to know this won’t be my life forever with you? And our baby? You don’t own me or get to control me just because I’m pregnant with your kid. So I don’t have anything to say right now, not until I know that’s not you.” You shake your head, disappointed you even have to be saying this to him at all.

As the silence drags on after your words slowly ring in both of your ears, you finally look at him. He looks smaller, less like the tan, buff, LA douche you were used to seeing. He was exhausted, his arms wrapped around his torso as if to hug himself as he let each of your words sink into him.

He didn’t know what to say to make you feel otherwise because he gets it. From your point of view, he looks like an asshole who only cares about keeping you to himself. And a teeny tiny part of him knew that was a little bit true. He didn’t like the idea of your being with anyone else. But he also knew you were right about the fact that you barely knew each other and that you truly didn’t know that that he was different. He was shit at understanding his emotions sometimes and even worse at expressing them.

“You’re right,” he sighs, deciding that admitting he was wrong would be a good start at least.

Your mouth opens to bite back, but you immediately close it when you hear his admission rather than a defense. “I sounded like a dick last night. I let my emotions get the best of me, which is something that happens a lot. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I wanted to control you, I don’t want to.”

You can slowly feel the tension in your chest unravel, your muscles relaxing a bit. You slump more into the couch, resting your head on the top to look at him sideways. You weren’t ready to go back to how you were, but it was nice to know he could at least admit when he was wrong. And he was definitely communicating more than the other guy who’d thrown a wrench in your friendship.

It had been total radio silence from Jessie since last night. You assumed it would stay like that for a bit, until he was ready to talk so you were going to give him space. You just hoped that would be before graduation.

“Well, good,” you huff, still doing your best to sound pissed even though you’re just tired now.

“Wanna have a nap?” He asks.

You purse your lips, unsure of what to say. Honestly, you’d love to sleep for another ten hours, but you weren’t sure you wanted to sleep with him again.

“The sheets are new, I can make you some food while you sleep,” he offers.

“I’ll sleep, but you don’t have to cook anything for me. Not into the idea of food right now.” He doubted that you meant it, knowing how much you hated his help, but by the look on your face you meant your words. You’d unintentionally let a look of disgust take over your features at the thought of eating anything.

He nods, standing and holding a hand out to you to help you stand. You take it reluctantly, standing and grabbing your water. He takes the almost empty cup from you after letting go of your hand. You can feel the empty presence all too fast again when he walks away, hating how you missed the feeling of him being near you.

Before you let it consume you, you walk to the laundry room and get comfy in his covers. If he was gonna let you be in here, you were gonna make the most of it. He walks back in with your water and places it on the bed side table.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him.

He smiles at you, his cheeks turning pink at the thoughts that immediately run through his mind. You looked absolutely adorable, his comforter up to your chin seeing as you had cocooned yourself in his blankets. You were cute and in his bed and it overwhelmed him.

“Don’t worry about it. Now please rest.”

And that’s what you did. You spent most of the day and night relaxing, hanging out with Ethan a bit in the afternoon but otherwise that was it. Some of the awkwardness had lifted from around you and Grayson, but there was still a lot of apprehension between the both of you. If you didn’t know where you stood before, you definitely had no clue now.

So when you had to leave for school the next morning it was bitter sweet. You were going to miss both the twins, but you were excited to get back to your apartment with people you loved and just an environment your felt comfortable in. It was much easier to act like everything was normal there.

***

You’d practice doing this since you were young. It was a response to anything that could hurt you. You run, avoid, ignore anything that can hurt you. You shut it out to protect yourself, the pain you’ve experienced already enough for at least ten people. It became a habit at that point. So when people had the potential to hurt you, you shut down completely. You’d avoid them, create distance, put up a wall to try and maintain some type of happiness.

And Grayson was no different.

Your last few months were busy at school, sure, but you couldn’t lie and say that was why you barely spoke to him. You shut him out, kept yourself protected from anything else he could do to hurt you.

It was hard at first. He’s irresistible, and not just in a physical way (although that didn’t help with all your hormones). He was charming and funny and just an enjoyable person to be around. But everything he’d said to you when you had been with him in the city and that night rang through your mind whenever you questioned what you were doing. You were merely doing what was best for yourself. Right?

So daily facetimes went to phone calls a few times a week, texts became about baby tips he found online, Pinterest recipes to help relieve your seemingly constant heartburn, and once in a while updates about his life. A small part of you was happy the hard thing had already happened. He could go back to his LA life and start acting how he would once your baby was born.

Right now you were more focused on your friendship with Jessie. It had taken him two weeks to talk to you, and it had felt like the longest two weeks of your life. But finally he came over and explained everything he had been feeling. He apologized for what happened in Jersey, and things almost went back to normal. You didn’t see him as much and things were still a bit awkward, but you were friends. And that’s all you could want right now.

When graduation rolled around, you were pretty happy again. You’d even been able to find a loose dress to hide your stomach that looked a little bit bigger than when you’d joke around with your friends about being pregnant after a big meal, pushing your stomach out and laughing together. Except you were really pregnant this time, and you weren’t forcing your tummy out at all. If anything, you did everything you could to hide it. That meant dresses everyday no matter what.

You’d had to tell your roommates, because you weren’t about to stop wearing comfy clothes when you were home. They were all beyond excited and made you happy to have a banana sized baby growing in you.

It only became strikingly obvious when you were celebrating graduation a week later at Jessie’s house with his family and friends, a gathering in the backyard as the warm May sun shone down on you all. You were grateful for the fact that another flowy dress would be appropriate for the party, but not having even one drink to celebrate something you’d worked so hard to accomplish? People were catching on, and fast.

Jessie’s mom was the first one to ask you something. You decided it was about time to start telling people, your 20-week mark only a couple of days away.

Before she could do more than congratulate you, an all too familiar voice called your name from behind you. You turned to see Grayson, trailed by Ethan and their mom.

You were completely frozen, unsure of what to do or say. Sure, you’d been talking on the phone a couple times a week, but you always kept it short and about the baby. You don’t even remember what you had told Grayson about your mended friendship with Jessie and if he knew you’d be here or not.

In what seems like a flash you’re now alone with him, Jessie’s mom busying herself with Ethan and Lisa.

“Hi.”

Somehow his greeting is more awkward than the first time you met him. Or the first time you saw him when you’d been pregnant with the baby. This was definitely the worst one so far, and you hated it. It didn’t sit well with you.

“Hey,” you murmur, your heart rate picking up as you fiddle with your hands in front of you.

“You look…” His eyes fall to your stomach that is more pronounced due to the way your arms almost frame it, the color of your yellow sundress almost making you glow in his eyes.

“Fat? Bloated? Like I could float away like a balloon?” You suggest.

His eyes widen, his hands coming up to physically show his disagreement. “No, not at all. Pregnant, yeah. But also really good.”

You nod, a tight smile on your lips as you watch the rest of the party continue. A part of you wished you could be like the rest of them, their lives going as planned while you stood here with your baby daddy who you were friendly with? Friends even? But you wanted more? But you also didn’t.

Well, you did but you were scared. But it’s easier to say you don’t. That’s what you’d told your roommates, that you weren’t interested in him. Payton saw right through it, of course, but didn’t question you.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” You knew you should have seen in coming, but it still made you want to shit bricks when he asked you that.

“Yeah, sure. No bathrooms, though.”

Your joke makes him chuckle, your spirits lifting a bit at that. It gave you the tiniest bit of hope that this wasn’t how it always had to be with him, that one day you guys could do more than just be awkward.

He brings his hand to your lower back to guide you into the house. He brings you to a guest room, the one you were staying in. You wondered if he knew you’d be in this room, but you’re sure he just knew this was a place you could be alone.

“When’s our next appointment?” He asks, and you cringe.

You’re unsure of how you feel about how he asked that. You’re grateful he was involved, and that he cared. It’s more than you expected originally. However, he gets to ride through this relatively unscathed. You’re the one getting poked and prodded, growing a baby in the first place. Especially with the distance over the past few months, it felt like he was less involved than you’d originally anticipated. You have been prepping for it to be you and your baby alone, and he’d pop in whenever he was free. But for him to come in and just assume it was a “we” and “our” situation when he decided to show up wasn’t sitting well with you.

“Wednesday, the 13th.”

He nods, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting his elbows on his knees to support his jaw with his hands. “Is it the appointment we find out the baby’s gender? I googled it was supposed to be the 20 week appointment, but what’d the doctor say last time?”

He’d missed the last appointment over Easter, and you had gone alone. Again, not surprising and it didn’t feel good. But, he had life in LA to attend to.

“We can if we want to, yeah.”

“Do you want to?”

You stop fiddling with your fingers, your gaze falling to him. “Not really, no.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his brows raised in surprise. “Really?”

You nod. “Gender reveals and stuff are stupid. I’m not dressing our baby based on their gender or decorating their room by it or anything. I just want a healthy, happy baby. Boy or girl,” you shrug, bending your arms to wrap them around your stomach somewhat protectively.

He takes in a deep breath, considering your words.

“I feel a bit dumb now.”

A short giggle leaves your lips breathlessly as you quirk your brow. “Why?”

He groans, falling back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands, dragging them over his skin as he puts off his answer as long as possible.

“I might, uh, might have already started a Pinterest board for gender reveal ideas.”

Before you can control it, your laughter bubbles up out of your chest. The idea of the broad man laid out in front of you sitting hunched over his computer and adding probably some of the weirdest gender reveals he could find to his long list of gathered ideas. You wondered if he had a funny name for it, or if he just called in gender reveal.

“I can’t lie, I’m just not into it. We could just have a normal baby shower, still. I’m sure there’s plenty of Pinterest content for that.” Another groan falls from Grayson before he sits up again, facing you. His cheeks are pink and his shoulder are slumped as he looks at you, his eyes falling to your stomach.

“You’re right, and we can still play so many of the stupid games like pin the umbilical cord on the baby.”

You immediately start laughing again, gripping the dresser for support as you cover your mouth with your free hand. “Grayson what the fuck is in your search history?”

“Shut up, I’m excited,” he pouts, but it’s clear he’s trying to hide a smile.

You two settle down and the air quickly becomes tense again. You stood there awkwardly as he picked at his shorts.

“So…”

You look up at the sound of his voice, waiting for him to continue.

“What are you doing now that you’ve graduated?”

Ah yes, the question you’ve somehow managed to dodge with vague answers this whole time. Really, you had no clue. Jessie had said you could live with him until you got yourself on your feet, and you had been applying to jobs this whole time. However, for every phone interview you got and asked about maternity leave, you somehow never got a call back again. You decided you didn’t want to work somewhere that didn’t value the health and family members of their employees, but that narrowed your findings down to basically nothing.

You had money saved from working through high school and college, but not enough to support yourself and a baby until you could go to work and afford a nanny. It was looking a bit grim, to say the least.

You shrug, turning to face the mirror to watch yourself speak rather than to look at him. “Not sure, been applying for jobs but nothing’s panned out.”

“Are you trying to work in the city?”

“Yeah, most opportunities there.”

“Starting after the baby is born, right?”

You turn back, raising a brow. You know you had talked about that when you first found out you were pregnant, but that just wasn’t realistic now. As in, now you were in reality and not a fictional fairy tale where a prince charming named Grayson Dolan swoops you off your feet and brings you to his lavish castle to dote on your every need.

“What?” He can see the thoughts racing through your mind and he’s desperate to know what you were thinking. You always did this, had about a million thoughts and said maybe one of them.

“Can’t just wait until then, I’m not a freeloader. I need money to live, to raise the baby once they’re born. Save for a nanny so I can work in the first place.”

He shakes his head at that, his face hardening. “No nanny, we can raise our baby on our own.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “How?”

“I told you, you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. I got it covered.”

“Oh yeah? So, you just get us an apartment for me and the baby to live in while you live it up in LA and I’m here alone with our kid? Do you really think that of me?”

“Y/N, no,” he defends, standing up. “I’m – I’m working on it, okay? Stop insisting you’re alone, and that you’re going to be alone. You’re not, I’m here.”

You roll your eyes, running your tongue over your teeth to try and decide how you want to go about this. How can he still make it sound like everything will be fine?

“I won’t be alone when it’s convenient for you, but what happens the rest of the year?” You challenge.

The vein in his neck bulges and he looks like he’s doing everything he can to contain his anger. “Why are you so set on me being the bad guy, Y/N? You’re the one who pushed me away and stopped sharing your life with me, you’re then one who sounds like she doesn’t want me here. I’ll literally move back to Jersey full time if that’s what’s best for us!”

“Because you can’t! That’s not your life, you have to be in LA, you and Ethan both do. And I can’t invest myself in you knowing that your life will never be here, with us. I have to protect myself, and our baby.”

Your words clearly affect him, the hurt shooting across his face. His eyes refuse to leave you, his hands reaching out to you.

“Y/N, no. You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

You step back, your back hitting the dresser as you try to keep some type of distance between you guys.

“Of course I do. We spent, like, two days together and you expected me to drop my best friend for you. If us raising a baby together would have worked, we would have found a groove by now. We would have to respect each other, and our separate lives, to join together to raise this baby. But you can’t even recognize how your life will impact our baby and how I can’t just shape my life to make you comfortable.”

He sucks a breath in, his thoughts racing through his head a mile a minute. He had no clue how much you’d misinterpreted what happened with Jessie and how much you were unaware of how flexible he could be with his job and how much him and Ethan were looking to come back to the east coast anyways. And most importantly, he had no idea you were unaware of how much he cared about you, your happiness, health, and well-being.

But before he can say any of that, you’re walking towards the door.

‘Y/N-“

“No. It’s Jessie’s fucking graduation party, we’re not going to ruin it.”

And with that you were out the door, not even looking back at him.

Read the next part here!

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 4 years ago

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What Happens in the ATL- Tom Holland x OFC Natalia: One

A/N: Here’s the first chapter friends! Sorry this is so short but I feel like this gives a very good description of how I feel about Tom. I’m sure y’all can tell when you read through this, that Natalia is based off me. This is also the name of one the daughters I hope to have in the future. I hope too, that with a new job (DM me if you wanna know what happened) and with working less hours in a day, I can be able to write more!

Warnings: All the fluff you can dream of!

Word Count: 1,433

Series Masterlist| Marvel Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

Intro

Feedback is welcome! Tag list requests are open!

Finding love hasn’t been an easy task and Natalia Richardson surely knew all about it. For her, most of the guys she was attracted to usually turned out to be jerks, immature, or just wanting to get her into bed. She was a strong, independent woman, who was more concerned with making herself happy and getting her life in order. Most people thought she was strange because her history with relationships was very limited; only had one that she could count. Sure, she’s spent time with a variety of ‘bachelors’ in her lifetime, but only one was worthy of the title boyfriend. And even with him, it only lasted approximately one week, so she decided to focus on herself. She wanted to be the very best version of herself she could be, wanting to do what makes her happy and not wanting to have to ask permission from anyone. Her life was finally going in a good direction: she had a good job, she got to travel with friends, do whatever she wanted to for the most part. Now, she was working on her mental health and once that was under more control, she would think about a relationship. But it was never her first priority. Her family and friends were more important to her, aside from herself.

There was one friend in particular, whom she really admired and wished she could spend more time with. It was a different kind of friendship, one where they only met in person just once. Her friend T, was someone she met online and had gotten to meet face-to-face on one occasion. However, both girls felt rather close to the other, because of often they talked. Almost every day, they would talk about their personal lives, but they enjoyed several of the same interests, so they talked about those too. T was three years younger than Natalia and they were very different from the other, but they believed that was what made their friendship strong. With differences of opinions and where they were in life, they seemed to come from two different worlds almost. T was already married and lived in another state than Natalia; two opposites. But this was the foundation of what their friendship was built on. Both girls could accept where the other was and their differences and that created a healthy relationship. Who says you have to always agree with every little opinion someone else had? Natalia always made it known that she believed people who always agreed with everyone else, lacked their own individuality and she felt sorry for them.

The news came one day, that T was going to move from South Carolina to Atlanta, Georgia because her husband got a better job. She couldn’t wait to tell Natalia her good news, that as soon as she knew for sure, she sent a text to Natalia immediately.

T: Nat, you are not going to believe what just happened!

N: What’s that?

T: Alex (T’s husband) just got a job in Atlanta so we’re moving down there!

N: Wow, that’s great! Tell him congratulations from me!

T: I will! And guess what else is going on down there?

N: What?

T: They’re filming the newest Spiderman movie!

N: No way! Omg, you might get to meet Tom Holland!

T: Probably not, but it’s exciting to think about!

N: Well yes, but it’d be better if you get to meet him.

T: I don’t think I will with this stupid virus.

N: Yeah, that’s probably true. But who knows, you might just run into him somewhere.

N: And if you do, you should totally give him my number and tell him to text me lol

T: You know, I might just do that but I would give him my number too

N: But you have Alex! Come on, that’s not fair; I have no one!

T: Well, I love him too but fine If I see him, I’ll tell him to text you.

N: Now was that so hard?

T: Yeah, yeah, thank me later.

N: I will if you follow through.

T: I need to meet him first, you dork. And it’s hard to right now because I’m sure they’re not hiring any extras or allowing any fans around to watch the filming.

N: Okay, okay, fine. Just don’t forget!

T: How can I with you reminding me all the time?

N: I’ve only said it once!

T: Yeah, for now.

N: Ok you win this round.

Natalia smiles to herself and heads out to work for the day. She knows the chances of T actually getting to meet Tom and that she would give him her number, is completely low, but she could dream, right? No harm in that. Heading into the office for her shift, Natalia had a difficult time concentrating on her tasks at hand. Why? Because Tom Holland had wiggled himself into her mind and just lived there for a few years. And quite often, someone said or did something that reminded her of him. Or she saw his picture somewhere and it reminded her of why she loved him. Or she’d read an interview or saw a video of his, saw his social media posts, and it made her long for him. She was very passionate and when she liked someone, whether she knew them personally, or she just followed them, she dove in headfirst. For instance, when she first saw Tom Holland in the Marvel film, Captain America: Civil War, she immediately took a liking to him. She thought he was adorable and did very well filling the shoes of an iconic character like Spiderman. Natalia grew up with the likes of Toby McGuire playing the character, so just like the majority of her generation, she was hesitant to accept another one. In reality, Tom was the third actor to play Peter Parker that she could remember. They had Andrew Garfield try to fill the iconic shoes as well, but he didn’t do as well. So, it was only natural that she was afraid to accept another actor for a character she grew up loving. But when she saw him on screen, she was impressed with how he held his own up against some of the greats like Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, and so many other big names that the Marvel Cinematic Universe had recruited for their films. Then when she got home, she did a Google search on him and learned they were very close in age. Something about being close in age to someone in the entertainment business really brought a sense of pride to Natalia. It wasn’t because she could do the same thing but when someone her age is making a name of themselves, she’s proud because maybe it seemed like people would appreciate the younger generations. As a good writer Natalia knows says, “when you are young, they assume you know nothing.”

From the first time she saw him nearly five years ago until now, she has managed to admire him and had in a way, fallen in love with him. She watched more movies, read interviews, watched/read his social media posts, and managed to learn all she could about him. It was safe to say, she was a fangirl. But it was more to her than just someone she admired or thought was attractive. No to her, he was someone that meant a lot to her and she would do anything to get the opportunity to meet him and spend a little one-on-one time with him. Just to talk to him and learn more about him because he seemed fascinating to her. He is the oldest of four boys, grew up in a completely different country than her, and was a freaking movie star! The kinds of questions she would ask him and the conversations they would have. One topic she would want to talk about is the difference between American and British cultures. The ways they differed in how they were raised, the kinds of foods they ate, the clothes they wore, what schools were like, grocery stores, shopping malls, restaurants, cars, roads, lots of things were different! She would love to learn all about what kind of life he led before he starting making a name for himself. Then she would tell him all about her life and what life was like for her growing up Stateside. All she wanted was just a chance, a chance to even just make a friend, let alone it going anywhere more than friendship; she was just interested in him.

Taglist: @tloveswriting @calaofnoldor @440mxs-wife @thinkinghardhardlythinking @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2 @angeredcrow @damn-stark @slutforfics @awesomesusiebstuff @hobby27 @lovabletomholland @spnjediavenger

#tom holland #tom holland gif #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fandom #tom holland girls #tom holland x ofc

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atiny-orbit1219 · 5 years ago

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Internet Connection

*Pairing: Idol Johnny Suh

*Genre: Fluff (There isn’t enough Johnny fluff these days, y’all some horny bitches)

*Plot idea: Most idols do indeed have a private twitter account where they like to see what their fans are talking about and interact with them secretly. Johnny was one of those idols. He loved seeing what NCTzens were up to and found it flattering how many times they called him daddy and offered to let him choke them. One day as he was scrolling through his twitter feed he saw a tweet that caught his eye. “Who has the biggest dick?” in the poll list was his name, so he commented. “Johnny of course.”

*Word count: 3,600

*Warnings: Cussing, a lot of dick talk, so cliche like this could never happen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Were you really going to post this? Is twitter fame really worth it? You were contemplating as you laid on the floor of your bedroom. Did you have a perfectly comfortable bed two inches away from you? Yes, yes you did, but you evoked your bed privileges as you typed up the tweet you knew would give you likes and comments but throw your morals out of the window. Your finger hovered over the large post button. You groaned, the hand clutching your phone falling to the ground. “I can’t.” you finally decided. It’s sexualizing men and as a feminist at heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What if some fanboy asked “Who has the biggest tits?” well the answer is Jihyo but ethically it isn’t right. He’d have his account suspended within hours. Even if your account is slowly dying you shouldn’t stoop so low. You looked up at the ceiling, your free hand resting on your stomach. You let out the long breath you didn’t know you were holding, since when did you become so desperate for the validation of people you’ve never even met in real life, so what if your follower numbers went down? So what if you’re only averaging fifteen likes per tweet? “That’s right? Why does it matter? It doesn’t… totally doesn’t.” You say to yourself, attempting to convince the voice in your head that is telling you to post the poll.

Maybe your finger slipped. Maybe you did it on purpose, you don’t really remember, the only thing you can see is your phone buzzing rapidly as the twitter notifications start coming. Within hours your “Who has the biggest dick?” Poll became your most viral tweet to date. With the options being Lucas, Johnny, Mingyu, and Mingi it was safe to say the comments were heated and the votes were split. You hated the fact that you liked seeing the likes and comments go up, were you a bad person for posting? Or are the people on twitter bad for engaging? You spent the rest of the night on your hardwood floor, bobby pins and wires digging into your back, but you deserved it. You even refused to look at your walls, too ashamed to face the NCT posters that were hung up neatly. Ever since you decided to join stan twitter you promised yourself you wouldn’t become one of those accounts who post just for attention, you just wanted to make friends who had the same interests as you. You got your first taste of twitter fame when you made a joke about idols having private twitters and seeing the horny tweets dedicated to them and it soon became addicting after that. Now that thought sent shivers down your spine and you prayed it wasn’t real as you have just become one of those thirsty tweets. Even as you close your eyes to sleep you can’t help but ignore the constant buzzing that came from your phone next to you. After a few moments of considering putting it on do not disturb you finally decided that is the best option. You lift your phone up, but before you can slide up to the options screen you see a comment that catches your eye. ‘Hands down Johnny of course’.

You tap on the account that posted the comment, the layout was borning and the username basic, but this person didn’t follow you and you didn’t follow them. You just shrug and go back to the comment, smiling softly despite yourself as you typed. ‘I don’t know… Have you seen Lucas’s hands?’ Lucas was currently winning with the votes and you couldn’t disagree, it makes sense. Not even five minutes after you replied you were sent a DM request from none other than the mysterious Johnny dick defender. ‘I think you’re mistaken, Johnny is definitely winning in that category ;)’ You couldn’t help but laugh, your thumbs gliding across the keyboard as you typed your response. ‘You’re very passionate about this, where’s your proof?’ You asked, waiting for his reply. ‘I think you just have to trust me on this one’ You scoffed and started to type, ‘My mom told me not to trust strangers on the internet’

‘Your mom is a smart woman. What’s your name?’

‘What makes you think I’ll tell you?’

‘Didn’t you join twitter to make friends? I can’t be your friend if I don’t know your name.’

‘I joined twitter to talk to more K-pop fans, I’m sorry but your coffee layout and username isn’t cutting it’

‘There what about now.’

You tilted your head slightly wondering what he changed his layout to and you had to stifle your laughter when you saw it. An entire layout of predebut Johnny and the username @John’sbigpenis. You covered your mouth, keeping your quiet giggles in as you went back to the chat, typing quickly with one hand.

‘Y/N’

‘It’s nice to meet you Y/N’

And just like that, you spent almost the entire night texting, you figured out his name is Jason and he just casually listened to K-pop but his friends were really into it and because he followed them your tweet landed on his feed. He was funny and had you smiling for so long your cheeks started to hurt, you haven’t had a conversation like this on twitter in awhile all of the group chats you joined slowly drying up, so this was a nice change. But eventually it became harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, the light from the screen not helping. You finally had to say good night to Jason and within seconds of shutting your phone off you passed out, not even feeling the discomfort of the floor anymore.

The next morning the first thing you did was check your DM’s and couldn’t help but smile as you saw the unread message. ‘Not to be a creep or anything but I looked at your location on your profile and looked up your timezone. Good morning :)’ You sat up slowly, the blanket you were using falling down your body, so he was in a different timezone? ‘What time is it for you then? Also good morning ;)’ As you awaited his response you finally got up from your spot on the floor and threw the blanket you were using on your bed. You walked to your wall blindly as you wiped the sleep from your eyes and flipped the switch causing light to fill your room. You sighed as you looked at your bed, contemplating just going back to sleep but you could also smell the breakfast your mom was making down stairs so you decided to manage your priorities, eat breakfast then go back to bed. After that important decision was made you made your way down stairs and as predicted saw your mom in the kitchen cooking away. You said your good mornings and lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the counter of the island. Your mom used to complain about your ass being where the food goes but after she saw that you didn’t care she slowly stopped as well. As you were sitting and chatting you felt your phone go off from your pocket, you grabbed it and smiled as you saw his user pop up. “What are you smiling about?” your mom asked curiously her eyes glancing over at you for a moment before going back to mixing the pancake batter. “Oh,nothing, just a friend on twitter.” You say your attention is still stuck to your phone as you read the message ‘I am a few hours ahead of you , I live in Chicago! Born and raised.’ You almost didn’t hear your mom speak, “Y/N… you know I don’t like you talking to strangers on the internet. What if they’re some forty year old man who just wants your feet pics.” You just nod, having had this conversation more than once. “Mommm you know I’m smarter than that… I’d make him pay for my feet first. But for real, this is the only way I can talk to other people who like the same stuff I do, unless you want to listen to me talk about K-pop for hours on end I need to get it out somehow.” You said, raising your eyebrow as you gave your mom the ultimatum. “Make your money honey, it's your feet not mine.” and with that you grabbed your plate and started to eat.

‘Ahhh so is that why you’re so defensive over Johnny’s penis? Gotta save the reputation of Chicago boys?’

Just like that you ended up talking to Jason everyday for weeks. From morning to night you two never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Soon he knew more about you than your close friends did; it was so easy to talk to him and he said he felt the same with you. He was there for you when you were having a mental breakdown while trying to get NCT 127 concert tickets, he was there while you screamed about how hot every member looked in the new Kick It music video, especially the man that brought them together, A.K.A Johnny Suh, he was there for everything. After awhile it was safe to say you were falling for him.. Well at least his personality, you haven’t seen his face. He’s seen yours of course as he hyped up all of your selca days, you respected the fact he didn’t want to show you his face but as time went on you couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. What if he really is a forty year old man only after your feet? But all of that soon changed.

‘You got P1 tickets to the Chicago concert right?’ You read the text that was sent to you and tilted your head curiously. You were currently packing for the three day trip your mom and you were taking to Chicago. You unfortunately lived in a state that always had zero tour stops and the closest city was Chicago and this was the first time your mom agreed to letting you go since she knew how much you loved NCT. But you guys decided to make a trip out of it and would be staying for a couple days after the concert. You started to type with one hand, messily folding clothes with the other. ‘Yep! I’m packing right now! I’m so excited!!’ You said truthfully before going back to practically shoving your multiple outfits into the suitcase. After a few moments you felt a buzz, ‘I’m going too-’ You didn’t even finish reading the text before your eyes opened wide and your stomach did flips. Jason was going to be there!! As you slowly started rethinking your outfit choices you finished the text. ‘Do you wanna meet up? I know this 24/7 cafe close to the venue.. We can meet after the concert? If you want?’ You were confused at first, why meet up after the concert in a separate location, but just the idea of meeting him made you consider it. ‘Why not before the concert at the venue?’ You asked, wanting a valid reason to meet up late at night at a cafe. You now completely gave up on trying to pack as you impatiently waited for his response. ‘I can’t get there until right before the concert starts because of work and it's always too crazy in the venue after. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.. I just… really want to meet you.’ Just that line right there made your heart skip a beat. ‘I’ll ask my mom.’

It took quite a lot of convincing, your mom not liking the idea of meeting a stranger you met online one bit. But she also knew you were a responsible Young adult and always had your phone on you, plus she would be right there in case anything did happen. So finally you got the greenlight to meet him. You could barely believe it, not only were you going to see NCT 127 and go through Hi touch, you were going to meet the internet friend that you have been talking to everyday for a couple of months now.

You always knew that there were buildings in Chicago, but you didn’t expect them to be THIS big. It was the day of the concert and your mom and you were only a few minutes away from your hotel and you couldn’t wait until later tonight. Only a few more hours. You spent the majority of that time getting ready, you wore your favorite outfit and spent an extra long time on your make-up, making sure you didn’t look like you just got done with a nine hour car ride. The time went by fast yet slow, the feeling was weird, you couldn’t believe this was all actually happening. Yet soon enough you were in line to have your tickets scanned to enter the concert venue. You achieved the wristband for P1 and attempted the merch line but ended up having to say screw it as the concert was starting in ten minutes. You made it to your seat right before the room went dark and then it started.

Throughout the concert you were singing and dancing and crying, you were feeling so many emotions at once and you never wanted it to stop. You were too caught in the moment to notice the eyes that were on you almost every chance they got, he also couldn’t believe this was happening. As the final song played and you found yourself tearing up once again you looked for the man who started it all between you and Jason. You found Johnny singing on stage, was he…. Was he looking at you? Nah he's probably just scanning the crowd like most artists did, but you still couldn’t ignore the feelings his glance gave you.

You were in the line for Hi-touch, your hair and makeup miraculously still decent looking as you started walking forwards, following the people in front of you. In just a few moments they were right there, the only thing separating you was the table they sat behind. They looked the same as they did on your screen but in a way ten times better, they were real and your hand was touching theirs. You didn’t really know what to say and you didn’t have the time to say much, so you stuck with a simple hello and a smile. You approached the last member, Johnny was watching you the entire time you walked down, he just held up his hand and muttered 'heyas’ as you got closer. This was the first time he'd seen you up close and he had the same feeling you Had. Your pictures are beautiful but something about seeing you in real life was so much better. Your eyes met his as you had to reach up a bit more to touch his hand, he smiled down at you, not able to say anything before you had to move on and walk out of the building.

After recollecting yourself and fixing up your runny mascara from crying too much you and your mom headed to the cafe to meet Jason. Many thoughts swam through your head most of them just not able to get over how amazing they all looked up close but the rest were nerves on meeting the man you’ve grown to have feelings for. You reached the cafe and got out of the car, letting out a nervous breath as you walked in, the shop was empty and the worker behind the counter was almost asleep and jolted awake as you stepped in. You ordered a green tea because you felt like you should order something and not just sit down like a total bitch. After a few minutes your phone buzzed. ‘I’m on my way,, sorry I’m late. got caught in traffic.’ The butterflies in your stomach only grew in numbers as you replied, ‘I’m here, sitting in the back’.

You were sipping on your tea as you heard the door behind you open. You were too scared to face the door so you sat with your back to it, but only when it opened did you realize that it was much more nerve wracking. You couldn’t even turn around your hands shaking as you took deep breaths, you could hear footsteps approaching, Jason was here… and right behind you. He walked around your seat and sat across from you, you were too scared to lift your head so instead you stared at his chest. “Y/N?” his voice was deep… and familiar? You looked up and out of shock from what you saw your hot tea slipped right out of your hands. You hissed softly and reached for napkins but the man in front of you was quicker, he ran to your side and knelt down, using his sleeve to wipe your lap. “Sorry.. Should’ve thought that through.” He said with a small laugh. “You’re… Jason?” you asked, unable to believe it even if you were looking right at him. “Actually… my name's Johnny and we just high-fived like half an hour ago and I can explain everything.”

“So.. You have a private twitter and you found my tweet and commented as a joke but decided to start a conversation with me?” You asked, looking at the idol in front of you. You’ve pinched yourself at least ten times now but everytime hurts more than the last so it can’t be a dream. “I start casual conversations here and there with fans just to see how they’re doing but you’re just… different.” He said. He had on a black baseball cap that was lowered over his face so no one walking past could recognize him. “As we started talking more.. I started looking forward to talking to you and you practically got me through this comeback season, when I was stressed and tired, just talking to you let me take my mind off things… I dunno.. I think I really like you.” You were at a loss of words as you listened to Johnny speak. Were you trapped in some tumblr fanfiction? This can’t really be happening. “I… I really liked talking to you too… you were the first person I opened up to. Whether it was Jason or Johnny I’m really thankful for having them to rant to and if the person I was talking to really you… then I think I like you too.” You said softly and even behind the hat you could see Johnny smile. He moved over to your side of the booth and you scooted to give him some room. “Since we both think we like each other… Why don’t we kiss and find out?” He asked cheesily before leaning in, naturally you closed your eyes and when you felt his lips press against yours it finally set in that this was all real. You were kissing Johnny Suh from NCT, Johnny Suh was kissing you. You moved closer, placing your hands on his sides as his moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he allowed the kiss to last for a few more seconds before pulling away. “So… Do you know for sure yet? Because we can do that again if we need to.” He said playfully and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just to make sure,” You whispered before grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him into another sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, chuckling softly as he fully wraps his long arms around you. “Yeah… I definitely like you.” You said breathlessly as you pulled away and he nodded quickly in agreement. “Me too.” he said with a large smile. “You said you're here for a couple more days? Do you maybe wanna go on a date tomorrow? We don’t leave for the next venue until tomorrow night so we have all day.” He offered. You nodded, not planning on turning down THE Johnny Suh. “It’s a date.” You said softly and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss your cheek, and your nose, and finally your lips, “We have two months to make up for in one day.. I’m gonna make it count.” He said, his large body clinging on to you even when you weren’t kissing, and you definitely weren't complaining. But as you two were sitting there, you in his arms and head on his chest you thought of something.

“Wait a minute… if you weren’t in Chicago but Korea when texting me… When did you sleep??” You asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes and Johnny just laughed and tightened his arms around you. “Shhh… It was worth it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ahhhh! Sorry for the delay,, I started this one and I just wasn’t feeling it for the longest time, when I write dialogue I focus on body language so majority of this scenario being text was totally out of my comfort zone! But I hope you guys like this one! And thank you so much for the love on my first post it means a lot!

#kpop #nct scenarios #kpop reactions #johnny #johnny suh #stray kids #haechan fluff #mark lee #nct fluff #twitter #idol #kick it #nct imagines #nct 127 #nctzen #yuta scenarios #nct taeyong

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elysiashelby · 4 years ago

Text

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 3

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 4,010

WARNINGS: Cursing, Attempted R*pe scene, Deliberate Intoxication of a Character

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for 6 months now. She has proper pay and she thinks she regained some normalcy in another world. However, trouble has struck the Shelby’s and Thomas has plans for her. Will she remain safe as he’s promised her?

MASTERLIST CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER 3.2

A/N: So, I forgot to add something very important. I am not from Liverpool. I do not know the proper way scousers talk. I’ve done some research and watched movies, but I will not advocate that it’s perfect. If y’all want it gone, it will be gone. PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS!!

It's been six months. I'm kind of an official part of the Shelby family. People part the streets for me and greet me. I'm paid two pounds, but John gives me a couple shillings whenever I go home for the day. I have no clue how much I make. I don’t exactly have enough time in me day to count up all me savings right now. I’m being led by the reins like a horse.

I have a little routine now and what can I say? It gives me peace! Sometimes- I have to admit, there'll be nights where I had cried about not being with me own family. However, it's not like I have the mental capacity to try and change my current situation, so I'm rolling with the punches.

I was folding clothes in the living room when Thomas bursted through the doors.

"I'm calling a family meeting for tonight, 8." Thomas said and then pointed at me. "Aliena, be there. Okay? Okay." Then, he walked right back out. From the distant slam of a door, I knew he had gone into his office.

I looked to Polly who was already staring at me.

"That fucking boy! Do you know what's goin' on, Ali?"

I shook me head, furiously.

She just sighed and said. "I guess we're finding out tonight. Finish folding, love, then come help me with dinner."

"Okay, Pol."

As I was folding, all I could focus on was me anticipation. I wanted time to move faster.

I knew the information wasn't about me lies. If he had wanted to confront me about that he would have done it privately or only in the audience of Polly. It wasn't 1919 meaning that season one hasn't begun yet. So, maybe it has something to do about Thomas fixing races? No, that's right! He didn't tell anyone about it! Wonder what it's gonna be then?

Eight rolled around and the family was waiting for Thomas to start. I was over by the doors blocking Finn from geggin' in.

"Right, I called this family meeting because we got a problem. This problem's name is Harry Chadwick. He's been seen following us and our men around. It would seem that he's a new small time copper looking to make a promotion. Now, some of you are wondering why I invited Aliena to this meeting and I'll get to that in a second. I am going to meet with Chadwick in 3 days time."

Roars of outrage poured from the family.

"I am going to meet with him! I told him that I got information on Billy Kimber, and that I'm willing to do a stitch on him in exchange to keep quiet about our doings. I've discovered that Mr. Chadwick frequents Mr. Zhang's brothel whenever he gets tired of spying on the lot of us. Mr. Zhang told me that he preferred his… women on the younger side." Thomas looked at me and I instantly knew his plan.

I swallowed harshly before looking back down at me feet. A million thoughts went into me head.

‘Was this a test? Is this me proving me loyalty? What if I go through with it, and he doesn't stop him in time? Why would he do this to me?’

"Like hell, Thomas! She's just a girl!" Polly yelled while gesturing toward me.

Thomas nodded in response. "Yes, Polly. She's a girl, who'll catch that bastard's attention! Now, if you'd let me finish! I was gonna tell you that I plan on killing 'em. She'll just be a distraction, and I'll let no harm come to her." The look in his eyes was intense. It was almost like he was trying to telepathically reassure me.

‘This is a test. This is a test about loyalty, I just know it is.’

Polly and Thomas started arguing while I debated over it.

I sighed. "I'll do it."

They stopped fighting.

"What?" Polly asked, looking at me with disbelief written in her face.

"I'll do it." I repeated with a clearer voice and me head held high. Thomas and I stared at each other until he gave me a nod.

"There you have it, Pol. She made her choice. She's a big girl."

Polly scoffed and began fighting with him again. I listen to John bud in and then Arthur shortly. I heard them, but it was like white noise. I was breathing quicker. But just as soon as I was consciously aware of the fact, I held me breath for a while and relaxed meself. The way me brain worked would never let meself freak out in me entirety. I've never experienced a complete panic attack. I always had the strength to snap meself out of it. That didn't mean that the effects went away any quicker. In fact, I knew this feeling of dread would follow me until we were actually enacting his plan.

I let meself out without, being like, allowed to. That night I didn't sleep. I just pondered over the grim possibilities that could occur three nights from now.

It was finally the day, and I am terrified. I was allowed to sleep in. I woke up around 10 in the morning. I ate breakfast and lunch that wasn't made by me, and then Polly told me that she had prepared a bath. I was to scrub meself spotless and shave.

As if I was really a prostitute.

On the flip side, this body of mine didn't have your common body hair. I had no hair on me body except for me private part, me eyebrows, and well- me hair. See I hated having body hair with a passion, so it was nice having smooth legs with no stubble.

Polly kept talking to me as if I were a child. She kept reassuring me that Thomas would never let anything happen to me. It was nice to see her worrying about me as if I were her daughter. Some days it really felt like that. After the bath, I was dressed in garments that were really rather in its best condition. It seemed like silk. I put it on with no protest. Polly even tried helping me with that. Then she went on to do me hair. It was beautiful, really. She put me hair in a bun with a single braid. Me hair framed me face just how I liked it.

She did me makeup next. I wanted to stop her, but I didn't have the heart to. I looked in the mirror and admired her work. The foundation didn't match me skin tone. It made me appear whiter than I was. But this was how women did it in this era, and I thought I still looked pretty. I smiled at meself even though I wished we were doing this under better circumstances.

Finally, the dress. It was a dark, maybe, navy blue. It's sleeves reached to me elbows, and it was a rather loose dress. I'm so used to wearing tighter one's than this one, feels like a sleeping gown.

"You look absolutely beautiful. Oh, look at you! Just like a dream." Polly said with her hands together in a prayer against her lips.

She rushed to me and rubbed me arms up and down. "Tommy won't let anything happen to you, Aliena. After this, I'll make sure you'll never be in this side of the business again. You'll just be taking care of the kids and doing the chores again, I promise! No more Peaky Blinder business."

I nodded. "Okay, Polly." I put on a grin while smoothing out the dress.

I was only allowed a few moments to meself before Thomas shouted for me.

"We better get down there then. Quicker we get it down, the sooner you both come home." She said as she pulled the door open and led me down.

As we were doing down the stairs, the three Shelby brothers were talking at the bottom of it. Upon hearing our heels, their gazes snapped on me. I noticed Thomas was wearing his usual suits, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Ain't she a sight!" Arthur yelled.

"Ali, you look absolutely beautiful. I think I'm fallin' in love!" John yelled.

I scoffed and shook me head. "Thank you, Arthur. And John, shut your trap." I was able to slap him across the chest.

He flinched, quite dramatically, while snickering. But then this hush of silence washed over us, and it was like we were all waiting for what Thomas had to say.

Thomas cleared his throat and muttered. "Come on, then." He extended his elbow for me and I took it.

We said our goodbyes then left. It was weird being in the passenger side of a car in the UK. American cars were different. I'm so used to being on the opposite side. As he drove, I took in the views. I loved car rides so much! God, I missed this.

"I'm sure you already know this, but I know you're lying to us." Thomas said while taking a drag. "You don't have a birth certificate, no record of any sort. I couldn't even find your father's war record. So, even though you are a hard worker, you've lied to us. After this… If you do it well and complete what needs to be done, I'll let your lies slip and accept you into this family."

Me heart was beating in my ears. Me face was hot. "Okay, Thomas." I whispered. After that, it was quiet for a while.

Then, Thomas broke it. "So, do you, maybe, want to tell me the truth?"

I scoffed, looking out the window. Even though there really wasn’t one. "You wouldn't even believe me."

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t fully anticipate him investigating me. I just thought it would be normal for a girl to show up with no papers. I was caught in a blag and like a brat, I wanted this conversation to be done with.

"Try me."

I don't know if I could contain my annoyance.

How the fuck could I explain it to him when I didn't understand this situation much meself! If I did tell him the truth, I figure he'll get me thrown in an asylum.

I went to massage me eyes, but then remembered that they had makeup on ‘em, so I slapped me hands on me thighs.

"Well, I'm not from here. At all! I'm from another universe or Earth. To me, you and your family are characters on a TV show called Peaky Blinders. Do you believe me?" I revealed to him while staring out the window. I couldn’t bear to face him.

He didn't answer for a good solid 5 minutes. "Well, it has to be that. Or, you lied about your dad being in the war and your family avoided records with home births. That you're Gypsy kin ‘cause there have been too many times that you have looked like you know something I don't, and being a Gypsy would explain that. So, yeah, I believe you."

I pursed me lips while leaning my head on me fist as I leaned my arm on the window.

'He doesn't believe me. A blessing in disguise.'

"Yep, you got me. So why don't you tell me what we're really going to this bloke's house for? I know it's not for the bullshit you spat at the meeting."

Thomas squinted his eyes at me. "How did you know I lied?"

I rolled me eyes. "Since Billy Kimber came out your mouth. What does Mr. Chadwick have to do with you planning to fix races?"

I turned me head to him and stared. His head was down, eyes on the floor of the car. His eyes darting back and forth rapidly. His Adam's apple bobbed and he said, "He's got something I need to actually fix those races. He's not a cop. But he does want information on Kimber and I'm going to feed him false information. Not like he'll be able to check, though."

While gazing at me fingernails, I hummed. "Thank you for your candor, Thomas."

After that, we didn't talk. When we pulled up to the house, he got out and then walked over to my side. I took his arm like before and we walked to the door. It wasn't a mansion, but it was a nice house. A maid opened the door and told us that we had been expected. We were led to a room that must have been the lounge area. There was a bar at the far right side and a pool table in the middle, but the room was still small.

"Ah, Mr. Shelby! So, good to see you!" Mr. Chadwick had to be the most stereotypical pedophile I've ever seen.

Mentally, I was giving meself a prayer and hoping that my discomfort was not showing on me face.

Thomas greeted him back. They shook hands and that's when creepy decided to lock eyes on me.

"Why, Mr. Shelby! Who is this enchanting young lady?" I watched as his hand slipped from Thomas' hand and reached for mine.

I reluctantly gave him me hand to shake when he clasped both of his hands over mine and started to stroke it. I could feel the muscles in me face ache, so I knew I was still smiling.

"This is Ali. She works for me Aunt." Thomas replied.

Mr. Chadwick greeted me, but it's like I knew that he was trying to make it sound sensual. I wanted to die! I just gave him one back and he finally dropped me hand.

"Well, enough with the pleasantries! Let's negotiate." Mr. Chadwick said as he walked over to his desk.

We all gathered around the desk when Mr. Chadwick offered drinks. Thomas and I both declined and sat down. After that, they dove straight into business talk. As much as it hurts me pride, I couldn't follow what they were saying. So all I did was pretend to be engaged. I smiled whenever his eyes lined up to mine. I tilted me head to the side to, I guess, show off me neck. Other times, I raised me chest and used other cues to get his attention towards my tits.

"You know what, Mr. Shelby, the agreement was set upon me getting rid of the information I have on your family. But not on yourself. How about you let me have her and we call it a deal?" Mr. Chadwick said while looking me up and down like I was fucking scran!

Thomas cleared his throat saying, "You're goin' to have to be more specific. I can't let you have her forever. She's my Aunt's employee. So, the most I could offer is an hour."

Mr. Chadwick scoffed. "The rest of the night."

"45 minutes."

"3 hours."

"1 hour."

"Hour and a half."

"Deal."

They rose and shook hands. I wanted to show me disgust. I felt absolutely nauseated. I just felt this pit in me stomach grow more and more.

Thomas placed his hand on me shoulder and I looked up at him. He nodded and said. "I'll be out in the hall."

"You can have my maid entertain you, Mr. Shelby!"

Thomas had already walked out of the room. I huffed. Me gaze went to the bar.

"Do you fancy a drink, Ali?" He asked me.

I got up from me chair. I was shaking. I just knew I had to look like Bambi when he was learning how to walk. "I could go for something. A glass of water would be fine." I said while tucking a strand of me hair behind me ear.

Mr. Chadwick laughed as he walked over to his bar. "I think you're gonna want something stronger than water, dear. Ever try gin?"

I shook me head. "No. No, I haven't. Water's just fine." I slowly walked closer to him. He was behind the bar as he poured the drinks. But he managed to quickly stride toward me. He handed me me drink and I took a gulp of it. The cold water was refreshing, but I couldn't help but notice he was staring at me while I drank the water.

I wanted to furrow me eyebrows at him, but instead I gave him a smile.

"So, how old are you, Ali?"

"16."

"Your accent, you're a scouser, aren’t cha?"

"Yes, sir, born and raised."

He hummed after that. I just awkwardly held the glass in me hand while shifting from one foot to the other.

"How did you meet, Mr. Shelby?"

"Uh, I was looking for a job and one of his brother's kids were out playing on the street. I managed to keep… him calm enough to get him… home. Apparently…, that was like… a miracle and… I was offered… a job. " I was feeling dizzy and it was getting harder to breathe.

I held me hand up while I pressed the hand holding de’ water against me chest. The glass was colder than I thought. " 'm… sorry. I… really need… to get some… air!" I went to turn away from ‘em when he grabbed me and pulled me to him.

I gasped for breath. I whimpered as he placed his forehead on mine.

He whispered. "God, you're so cute. Look how short you are and those tits. You've been wanting me all night. Don't try to deny it, you little minx. I bet you're all wet and ready for me." He started to nip and kiss me neck which made me flinch.

'I can't breathe. I can't breathe!'

Me legs soon gave out and he rushed us to the pool table. The pain the shot through me back as the table dug into me hips made me wince. He lifted me up ‘n sat me down on it, and me body fell limply on the table. The glass of water slipped out of me hand, but it didn’t fall since it didn’t make a sound.

I limply attempted hitting him, kicking him! They were weak hits. They barely did anything to him. I knew they were annoying him, though.

I kept trying to scream at the top of me lungs, but all that came out were hoarse whispers. I knew this feeling, familiar with it and I still hated it.

He stopped fiddling with his belt, grabbed me arms, pinned them down. "Stay fucking still!"

He kept me hands pinned and me head lopped to the side. Me gaze was on the doors from where Thomas and I entered. Me vision was getting blurrier with me tears. I took a deep loud breath and choked on a sob. I heard his belt fall to the ground.

"Tommy." I chanted. I kept saying his name. I felt him start to shimmy up me dress 'til I felt all of me legs exposed. Me heart was beating faster than ever. Something just clicked as I screamed, "Tommy!"

And like a fucking hero, he bursted through the doors and shot the bastard. The guy groaned as he fell to the ground, and a second shot rang throughout the room.

I stopped crying, but realized I really was paralyzed since I couldn’t pick meself back up. Me adrenaline was going down, and I just wanted to go to sleep. I heard Tommy’s thundering footsteps as he ran to me. I felt as he tugged down me dress, and then picked up me torso by me armpits. He stroked me face. I thought it was a caring touch, but realized he was probably wiping the tears.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was late, Aliena." Thomas whispered. His face was red and his jaw clenched.

I tried to tell him, "Nothing happened yet. So you weren't late." It fell on deaf ears.

He shook his head. "I was late…" He tugged me a little forward and then carried me bridal-style.

I heard a faint crunch that was familiar to glass.

'Huh! Maybe it was the glass falling that actually alerteded him and not my supposed shout.'

As we walked out, I saw the maid dead on the floor as well as a butler that was near the front door. He carried me to the passenger seat and laid me down then left. I was really fucking uncomfortable, but I still wanted to go to sleep. I let me eyelids flutter shut.

"Oi, Aliena! Aliena, wake up! Wake up." Thomas shouted at me while tapping my face.

I whimpered loudly but opened me eyes nonetheless.

"Attagirl! Good girl, Aliena. Now, we're going home. Okay?" Tommy wrapped his free arm around me shoulder and me face was tucked into his side. His touch was comforting. His slow strokes on me back reminded me of me ma’. This made me start crying again to the point where I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Almost there, Ali. You're alright now. Fuck!" Our bodies jolted as Tommy struck the steering wheel.

The cold night wind was refreshing. I tried focusing on that. I wanted to just curl up, sleep, and be able to get over it tomorrow. I'll get over it tomorrow.

I wanted to enjoy this moment as I snuggled up to Thomas Shelby, but I couldn't!

I always wanted to know what his cologne smells like and now I still wouldn’t know since my nose is stuffy ‘n runny.

Me sobs turned into sniffles and it took sometime before we actually made it back to the house. It was a series of Tommy keeping me awake and me crying about it.

Tommy carried me out of the car and ran up to the door. He started pounding on it 'til Pol opened the door.

She gasped and shouted. "What-!"

Tommy didn't let her finish. He rushed past her and sat me down on the couch. Me body was still limp, so me head fell back and me arms slumped to me sides.

"What the hell, Thomas! You said nothing would happen!"

"There were more people in his house than I thought and got held up. He didn't manage to do anything to her yet, but he drugged her."

"Fucking christ! Make sure she doesn't fuckin’ fall asleep! She needs to drink water."

Polly's last comment got to me. It reminded me of me ma’ getting me milk when I was too high. I started to chuckle and tried asking them for milk. Tommy leaned his ear close to me mouth and then shouted for milk instead. I was still laughing, but it came out breathily.

I could hear Polly yell for Arthur and I tried following her voice but that meant turning my head. Which made me close me eyes. Tommy tugged me face where it originally was and ordered me to stay awake. I attempted to stick me tongue out at him.

Aunt Polly came back. She put a wet cold towel on me head and put the straw in me mouth. I instantly started drinking it.

"Slowly, love." Polly whispered as she started to wipe me face and neck with the towel. "Slowly, love."

When I was done having a drink, I tried lifting up me arms and it happened very slowly. I slowly pushed the cup away from me. I didn't really realize that it was Tommy holding it.

"I don't blame you." I tried saying.

Polly sucked on her teeth. "Her fucking speech is slurred." By the end of her sentence, her voice was shaking. They fretted over me for a while until Polly said that she was going to have me be in warm water.

Thomas and Arthur helped me up the stairs. In the end, Polly was the only one in my room. She undressed me and helped me into the water. I could honestly say the water woke me up!

When I got most of me motor functions back, Polly got me out, helped me get dressed, tucked me into bed, and I fell asleep.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729

#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #in another world #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby

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4birds-of-a-feather · 4 years ago

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Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 3]

Birds Of a Feather

(In the previous chapters: after a wild match of a new game called I Have a Ball, the gang can finally start the party; among the guests there are Chris and Matt of Soundgarden, Layne and his girlfriend Demri and a couple of Mudhoney guys; to avoid an embarrassing situation, Sara suggests a game of Never Have I Ever which, despite Stone’s objection, is endorsed by several guests: now they can finally get to the heart of the party)

At this point the guests had basically split in three groups: some of them were stuffing their faces in the kitchen, others were dancing and listening to the music and some were taking their seats in a circle in the middle of the living room to play the game. “I can’t believe I’m doing this!” whined Stone as he sat down on the carpet “What did you plan for midnight? Musical chairs or broom dance?” “Stop complaining Gossard, nobody forces you to play if you don’t want to!” Cornell retorted to him and then went on “And actually I planned something great for midnight… you’ll see” “Should we be scared?” Layla wondered aloud as she noticed the devilish grin on Chris’s face. “Not much more than usual” Mike shrugged as he sat on the couch between her and Lukin. “Anyway, there’s no children games or grown up games: a game is a game, then it depends on how you play it” the girl explained then turned around immediately when she heard someone beside her open his mouth. “Yeeeah, and it depends on how much play you get” Elias spoke like he came out of thin air. “Elias?? Where have you been?” “When you grow up, I’ll tell you all about it, my darling one” the guy gave her a blatant wink “Let’s just say that it involved physical activity with a blonde bombshell…” “I didn’t know that indoor plants could be blondes...” “What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?” “I mean that, apparently, you have a thing for ficus plants and you also find ‘em incredibly blonde; I saw you sprawled between them half an hour ago, but I never took you for a-fuck, what’s the name?” “... Dendrophiliac?” “Yes, exactly! Thanks, Layla, you’re an angel” the drummer flashed at Layla one of his sunny grins, while Elias began to whine. “Matt, what a low blow! I expected that from everybody in this room – except you and Ed, and look where my admiration for you has led me!” “... What kind of hippie freak are you, O’Reilly? Hell, going at it with a vegetable?! And it wasn’t even a carrot or a pickle, what is your damag-” Jeff had looked at him all perplexed, but he was fortunately interrupted by loud coughs made by Layla. “Soooo, everybody here knows the rules?” the girl asked, but was met by skeptical looks “Jeez, what kind of adolescence did y’all have?” “One that didn’t include fun, apparently” Elias shrugged, still licking his wounds after his previous skirmish with Matt. “Ok, I get it: first of all, grab the poison of your choice” and, as she said it, she filled herself a glass of tequila that had been previously hoarded in the middle of the circle with many other kinds of booze. Soon after Sara had shrugged and grabbed a bottle of beer, while Demri helped herself to a glass of sangria and then, one by one, everybody followed their example and was having something alcoholic clenched in their hands. “Very good” Layla cleared her throat “One by one, each one of us begins their sentence with ‘Never have I ever’ and then proceeds to say something they have never done; if you did the thing that has just been said, you have to take a sip of your drink” “Milady, you had my curiosity, but now you have my attention” Lukin declared, a hand upon his heart. “Now, this is the most important rule, so pay attention: you have to remember that the winners are the ones who have their glasses at their fullest” “... Layla, are you telling us that having a life as interesting as a sloth’s is the key to success?” Cornell scratched his temple, glancing at her in a perplexed way. “I think she is” “Well, I have a question” Stone, unexpectedly, raised his hand “You talked about glasses, but many of us have chosen bottles, so it would take ‘em more time to empty that instead of a glass, right? Doesn’t that sound like a huge advantage to any of you?” “... he’s right, they have more booze to drink, that’s unfair!” Mike chimed in, pouting and waving his glass of whiskey in the face of everybody. “That’s not what I meant, Cready, lemm-” “But you can always grab another glass after you emptied the first, man! That’s what I’m gonna do” Lukin patted Mike on the shoulder, showing him his own glass of gin, and the guitarist returned to being his usual cheerful self. “Ok, so, who starts?” Layla asked, rolling her eyes. “Well, since you suggested the game in the first place, it’s only fair that you’re the one who goes first” Eddie answered gently. <The fact I’m also eager to know the things you did and didn’t do has got nothing to do with it, of course> “Oh, ok so ne-” the girl was answering but was immediately cut off by Stone. “Err-Ed, it was actually Sara who suggested it. Or the mysterious person she heard it from” “Huh? Oh yeah, you’re right, you go first, Sara” the singer admitted and mentally counted how many rounds were there before Layla’s turn. “Yeah, Sara, you can start” Layla winked at her friend and everybody else agreed but someone else chimed in again. “I have an idea. Why don’t we all drink a glass of something and the one who empties it faster starts?” McCready suggested. “That’s what I call starting with a boom, I’m in, man! So 3… 2… 1-” Lukin immediately went along with him and brought his glass close to his mouth. “Nuh-huh, we’re gonna take it slow, it’s less funny if we all get drunk before the start” Layla innocently explained. “Now that’s not exactly true, miss” Lukin addressed the girl in a contrived way. “Everybody shut up! Sara will begin, end of the story” Stone took over and everybody simply agreed without further questioning. <Haha, I got the power> “Well, well, well” Sara tapped the bottle of beer against her lips “Never have I ever…” she stopped and looked Jeff directly in the eye “... got a love letter” Layla promptly gulped a sip of tequila, leaving Ed lost in his thoughts: he couldn’t believe that the Boston piece of shit could be able to make such a significant gesture. “Mikey, what the fuck are you doin’?” “Taking a sip, obviously” “... who wrote you a love letter? When did that happen?!” “My love life isn’t any concern of yours, Stoney” and, that said, McCready finally drank a bit of his whiskey, then turned to a pouty Lukin “Dude, why that sad face??” “...” Lukin didn’t open his mouth because he was already near the stage of an alcohol-fueled coma, but Mike perceived his silence as a sign of possible discomfort and shame. “Don’t tell me that nobody ever wrote you a love letter!” he added, shocked “That is outrageous! But you don’t have to cry about it, if you want I’ll write you one” “... Elias, put that glass down; nobody’s gonna believe you” Stone changed his victim, who rolled his eyes but did as he had said. In the middle of all that noise, Demri and Layne shared a glance full of complicity and drank almost at the same time, while Chris and Matt clinked their glasses and unironically did the same. “Nobody specified if it had to be sincere or a bet would suffice as well, so…” Cornell smirked, then looked at Eddie, who hadn’t moved a muscle “Ed, you’re not drinking?” “Yeah, I-I’m usually the one who writes ‘em” the singer let out a nervous chuckle, then turned to the girl who was sitting next to him and that was muttering something under her breath “Everything ok, Sara?” The young woman’s gaze at Jeff was literal lava, ready to boil all over him. “That piece of shit… he doesn’t even have the balls to admit it, fuckin’ unbelievable” she snorted, then added in a loud voice “Somebody in this room is so full of shit it’s not even funny” When Jeff gave her a perplexed glance, she went on: “Yeah, I’m talking about you” “Man, what does she mean with that?” Elias went near the bassist in order to satisfy his curiosity, but the guy just shrugged. “She must have forgotten to take her medicine, you’ll get used to it” Jeff reassured him as he kept eye contact with Sara. <So what? Only because I’m lucky with girls, it doesn’t mean I gotta receive stupid love letters every day… And since when is this any of her business? Is she jealous? She fuckin’ hates me, how can she be jealous? And why does she fucking hate me anyway? Can’t we just have fun without problems for once?> Seeing the vein pulsing on her temple, Eddie put a hand on the girl’s arm: “Don’t mind him, you know how he is” he paused a second, then beamed with enthusiasm “Now it’s my turn!” “Who said that?” Stone asked after gazing from Sara to Jeff during their exchange like the spectator of a tennis match. “Well, we’re following the order…” Eddie explained pointing at Sara sitting next to him, then at himself, then towards Lukin and the other people sitting on the couch. “Who decided it’s counterclockwise?” Mike wondered. “How can you say cun- cou- caunt- county- oh fuck, how can you say that fuckin’ word when drunk?” Lukin tried to make a point. “Sadly not drunk enough, my friend” Mike wiped invisible tears from under his eyes while the bass player patted him on the leg. “Who cares if it’s clockwise or not, let’s go on!” Jeff huffed at Stone and flailed his arms, anxious to go on with the game, mostly to shift the attention on something else. “So – cough, cough! – can I?” Eddie hesitantly demanded. “Yeah, sure!” everybody prompted him to go on. “Ok so… uhm… never have I ever… got back with an ex” he said looking intently at the carpet beneath his feet. Some people drank, some people didn’t. Mike drank from his glass as Layla left hers untouched and gave him a puzzled look. “Really, Mike?” “What can I say? The soul is willing but the flesh is weak” Layla nodded embarrassed and when she looked at Eddie, he looked down again pretending not to be staring at her, now acting preoccupied with his fingernails. <So she didn’t. But she wanted to. Does she still? She would be back with him already if it wasn’t for the snow. It’s just a matter of time anyway… Shit, I should have asked ‘Never have I ever WANTED to get back with an ex’. I’ll wait for my next round... Will it be too obvious?> “Guess it’s my turn now” Lukin shrugged then stood up from the couch for no reason. “You don’t have to stand up to say the thing, Matt” McCready reminded him but he acted like he didn’t hear him. “Never have I ever… lied to a friend to avoid a greater evil” he stated then plopped back down on the couch with a burp. “Wait... this is a normal question” Jeff frowned as he, like everybody else, was expecting some senseless stuff. “Isn’t it alright?” Lukin asked and was about to stand up again, not without any effort, but Layla promptly pulled him down right away. “It’s alright, Matt, the question is perfect” she said and proceeded to drink from her glass. Steve, who hadn’t drunk in the first two rounds, did the same, just like Sara, Mike and literally everybody else. “Mikey, you basically did everything” Layne joked. <Yeah, finally something I actually did for real> the guitarist pondered and smiled. “Well, once I said I had troubles at home with my family and couldn’t make it to rehearsal. But I actually went to a party and got shitfaced” “YOU DID WHAT?” Stone and Jeff attacked him almost at the same time while the others just laughed. “You liar! And I was even worried about you” Stone shook his head. “You were worried only because you had paid to book the practising space in advance!” the other guitarist retorted, sticking his tongue out at him. “Do it again and I’ll bust your head wide open” Ament threatened pointing his finger at him. “You’re one to talk! Did you forget when you came late to soundcheck at the Off Ramp and said it was because of a jammed brake pad in your truck you had to check?” Mikey ironically asked “But what you actually had to check out was instead that girl from 7-Eleven?” “YOU WHAT? GUYS, I’M SERIOUSLY DISAPPOINTED” Stone folded his arms and gave them both a scolding look. “Well yeah, I can understand Mike, but I thought you were more focused on art, honestly” Eddie chimed in with a shitty grin on his face. “Huh, not you too, please!” “What does it mean you can understand me? I’m focused on my art too” the guitarist acted offended “Sometimes you just need a break, you know?” “Come on, give Jeff a break! And you’re right Mike, don’t listen to them! It’s your turn now” Layla tried to bring peace in the gang and asked him to go on with the game. “Thank you, Four Eyes! It’s your turn, Judas” Jeff looked up at the girl, then stared at Mike with narrowed eyes. “Ok, so… uhm… never have I ever flown on a dragon” he said as he brought up his glass as if he was making a toast. “Hahaha, shut up! That’s not valid, man” Elias blurted out laughing at the guitarist’s face, just like anybody else in the circle. “Why not? You shut up” “Err, Mikey, actually… I think Elias is right in this particular circumstance: you can’t make unreal statements” Layla scratched her head and tried to convince him without irritating him. “Oh sorry, Miss Boulais, I didn’t know this rule. I’ll come up with something else” McCready reassured her and Layla sighed with relief “Never have I ever… been to Mongolia” Everybody giggled and Layla facepalmed. Of course nobody drank. “Mike, the aim of the game is not drinking, you know that, right?” Layla whispered into his ear. “Don’t worry, I’ve got my strategy!” he winked at her and then asked the group before taking the umpteenth sip “So? Nobody? Ok, looks like I gotta drink then” “You seem to ignore other rules too though, did you know that?” Lukin broke the silence right when Layla was thinking about her statement. “Which rules?” “Once you said your Never have I ever, you can’t actually change it… unless you take a penalty” Matt went on to explain and for a moment Eddie detached from the situation and observed the scene as an external spectator. <Two drunk grown men debating about the rules of Never have I ever, and it’s not even midnight> “He had to change it because it wasn’t valid, not because he wanted to change it himself” Chris pointed out. “Right, Chris, thank you! I love you man, did I ever tell you? Oh, and what was this penalty supposed to be anyway?” “Easy. You had to drink all player’s cups. But since you didn’t want to change it yourself…” Lukin shrugged and Mike suddenly sat straight up on the couch. “OH, BUT I WANTED TO!” “Haha, but you just said-” Layne chuckled at him while Demri muttered to herself she was expecting this comeback. “FORGET WHAT I SAID” “But Chris just said-” Cameron wanted to join in the fun too. “FORGET WHAT HE SAID, FUCK CHRIS, OK??” “And he said he loved me!” Chris pretended to cry on his drummer’s shoulder and Matt patted his head. “Stop being an animal, Cready, and let Layla speak. It’s her turn” Gossard reproached him and Mike sulked like a child. “Ok so… mmm…” Layla collected her thoughts and then spoke in one single breath “Never have I ever led anyone to believe I liked them whereas I actually had a crush on their best friend and so was just leading this person on to get to their friend” “This is… very specific, El” Sara squinted at her, trying to understand what her friend was up to. “It’s just an average game question” Layla shrugged but didn’t convince the other girl. <She’s a worse liar than Mike> Only Stone and Jeff drank, therefore getting a reproach from Layla herself. Ed didn’t drink and this was a sort of answer to Layla’s little suspects about him and her roommate. She smiled at him but was almost more shocked about someone else not drinking. “... Mike?” “Yes, babe?” “You didn’t drink” “Sure I didn’t. I’d never be such a jerk to a woman!” he replied with a disgusted face making everybody laugh, whereas Layla beamed and kissed him on the cheek. “Your kindness is stronger than your thirst, I’m impressed” “My turn now!” Elias yelled and everyone focused on him “Never have I ever… thought a friend’s mom, ehm, a friend’s parent was hot” “Wow, a dirty question, who would have thought!” Sara rolled her eyes but also drank soon after. “What??” her roommate was sincerely surprised. “Well, that was really unexpected… color me impressed!” Steve grinned at her, raising his glass high in her honor. “Some dads are really something else, you can’t deny that” Sara justified herself and high fived Demri, who had just taken a sip as well “Let’s just say that this particular man made me re-evaluate the role of hideous Speedo swimsuits in society” “Amen, sister” Demri let out a loud cheer and patted her on the shoulder. “Are you really drinking?” Cameron gave Cornell a weird look. “Don’t you remember the story about Kevin’s mom?” the singer clarified. “Haha right, I forgot” Mike drank but nobody was surprised. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Jeffrey!” Stone reacted sadly at Ament drinking from his cup. “You’re such a bigot” the bass player grinned broadly. “I’ll never let you anywhere near my house and my mother again” “It’s not your mom that I find hot, don’t worry” Jeff tried to reassure him but got an unexpected reaction. “Why? What’s wrong with my mom?” “N-nothing, it’s just-” “So you think my mom is ugly?” “Not at all, Mary Carolyn is such a nice woman” “Oh, so now you’re on a first name basis! Do you think you have a connection or something?” “No, you just said that-” “Keep your dirty hands off my mother!” “You’re all making it up. I only meant that-” “Jeff, you’re stuck in a vicious circle. The only way out is to drop the subject and make your Never have I ever statement, since it’s your turn. Trust me” Steve gave precious advice to Jeff, who nodded and focused on what to say. “Never have I ever burnt bridges with somebody without any reason and without giving them the chance to explain themselves” “... Damn, Ames, you take no prisoners” Chris let out a low whistle, and the bassist shrugged, waiting for the inevitable glasses raised, but they never came. “Fancini, you ain’t thirsty?” he raised an eyebrow and received a middle finger as a reply. <Yeah, there was absolutely no fuckin’ need to hear ya explaining why the fuck you acted like an utter piece of shit – the reasons were all there, so you can put this bottle up your ass!> the girl thought, trying to ignore him. “Seems like nobody’s gonna drink this round, so… BOTTOMS UP!” Layne clapped his hands while Jeff stood up and emptied his cup. “I swear I wanted to say the exact same thing, I had it on the tip of my tongue!” Mike whined – he hadn’t taken a sip because he hadn’t totally understood what the hell his bandmate had said, but if that question had allowed him to gulp down his drink, then he was sure that it had to be something brilliant. “Well… seems like it’s your turn, Stoney!” Layla chirped, a bit in high spirits but with her hands steady, now intent on refilling Ament’s glass. “Never have I ever avoided to face something important until the problems became bigger and uglier, so I regretted not doing anything about it before” Stone laid it out as simple as that without losing the smirk on his face, looking left and right at the bunch of friends. <That was pretty easy…> Gossard thought <This is not a New Year’s party, it’s a reunion of the Unfinished Business Club... Well, am I the one to talk?> When Stone and Layla made eye contact, the girl thought the question was directed right at her. Everybody knew about her ex boyfriend by now. What they didn’t know was that their relationship was over before the “Eddiegate” and way before she put an actual end to that. She’d always been aware that things weren’t good, that she was just too attached and insecure to let him go. <I chose an allegedly perfect boyfriend who was never actually there over dealing with actual people and the whole process of getting to know each other. I was so scared, and still am, that I’d rather not risk it and preferred a relationship that didn’t make sense anymore> At the same time Layla instinctively looked at her left towards Eddie and stole a quick glance of him knitting his eyebrows as if he was pondering something. He didn’t seem someone who would avoid obstacles to her, she couldn’t imagine him running away from problems, she liked him for being honest and straightforward. <Yeah, I do like him> she said as she figured out she had two reasons to drink and took a sip from her cup. As Stone spoke, for some reason Eddie’s mind immediately went to the mixtape he had sent over to them a few months earlier. All his feelings about his family, his mom, his dad, his stepdad, everything he had kept bottled up for so long and suddenly came out all at once. At times he thought it was too bad or too late, some other times he even believed there was still hope for him. It was always either black or white for him, nothing in between. And he started to think that maybe if he had addressed his issues before, his life wouldn’t be the rollercoaster of emotions it was. <Thinking about roller coasters…> he said to himself as he looked towards the right and saw Layla drinking. Eddie saw the situation very clear for a minute. How could he blame her for trying to get in touch with her boyfriend again, when he did absolutely nothing about her in the meantime? He had never told her anything or asked her out, except for the failed attempt to go to the movies with her alone. Was it too late for that too or was there any hope left? In doubt, he drank from his glass too. Next to Stone, Jeff had let out a huge sigh and rolled his eyes: leave it to his best friend to pour some lemon and salt over the wound, then worsen the situation by twisting a rusted knife inside of it and letting it fester. He suddenly felt a great wave of fatigue washing all over him, and pinched the bridge of his nose because he had the feeling that a headache was behind the corner; it didn’t matter how many miles he had tried to put between himself and the first half of that particular year they were about to say goodbye to: the past had its ways to come back and bite you in the ass, and his nights spent by mulling over years and years of regrets and lost chances could prove it. Just thinking about Andy was still able to give him nausea, because his mind inevitably drifted to the last time he had seen him – hooked up to the machines, an unrecognizable empty shell where once had stood a bright young man, full of hopes and dreams bigger than his own life. Andy’s addiction had always been the notorious elephant in the room: everybody knew it was there, but nobody acknowledged its existence. They had tried to make him understand how serious his situation was – how jeopardizing it would have been for their careers – and, for a while, it had seemed to work: he had been sober for a few months and was positive about their future, confident about their imminent success. In the morning of that goddamn day he was supposed to go to the gym with him, but instead had called him to say that he didn’t feel good; his voice had been kinda scratchy, but Jeff had thought nothing of it – he was sick and didn’t need a nanny around, the day after he would have been good as new, that’s what he had told himself… that’s also what he had repeated to himself when he had stepped inside the hospital that same evening, cursing himself because he should have understood that something was wrong in his voice and it hadn’t been the sickness talking, but the heroin. He had also cursed Andy for throwing their jobs out the window, then cursed again himself for being a shitty human being who in that moment could only think of financial stability and not the fact that his friend wasn’t there anymore and that the lifeless corpse lying on the bed was a reminder of how nobody – not even the brightest fellows – in the end can save themselves. Now his thoughts drifted to the last New Year’s Eve party he had attended, where Andy had been gushing nonstop over The Miracle by Queen: he had been sober for a while and his eyes were literally sparkling while he talked about the English band’s latest single and eponymous album. Nobody could compete with the level of enthusiasm that Andy always showed when he talked about Queen – nobody, except maybe one person. Jeff raised his head and looked in front of him, where a pale-faced Sara was sitting with her legs crossed: even from his place he could see how in this moment her dark lipstick and metallic eyeshadow stood out on her face. <Avoided to face something important until the problems became bigger and uglier… regretted not doing anything about it before…> Stone had been a direct witness of how messed up he had become five years before, when he had spent a whole week being dead worried and then it had only taken Sara a few minutes to make his world crumble around him, but he didn’t think his friend would be capable of using that piece of information to gain some advantage in a stupid game… right? Unless Stone had suddenly developed some serious telepathic skills, it would have been simply impossible: after all, it was a conclusion he had come to just in the last few weeks, so the deliberate jab at him had to be ruled out. After more than five years, Jeff had finally convinced himself that yes, that infamous day he could have indeed done something more; he could have persisted, insisted to talk to her and demanded some explanations after she had told him to leave her alone forever because, apparently, he had ruined her life and there was nothing he could do to fix it. She had clearly been in distress and he had obviously noticed it but, foolish as he was, he had preferred to indulge her instead of pushing the subject further on and trying to understand how he could help her. Sara had always been a reserved person – one could say that she resembled a vault – but maybe, with the right words and intentions, he would have been able to breach her notorious armor of stubbornness and pride, and she wouldn’t have disappeared for so many years, or at least they wouldn’t have been in those horrible terms. Maybe. He let out a sigh and drank from his glass and, in that exact moment, the girl fixed her gaze on him and noticed that he was already staring at her; she wrinkled her nose and turned her face away, as to avoid his inquisitive gaze: the last thing she needed was someone trying to understand what was going on in her mind. <Fuckin’ Gossrad and his disturbed competitiveness…> He was referring to that goddamn July of 1985, she was sure of it; he hadn’t been there when the outburst had taken place but he surely had comforted Jeff after it: that’s how those two rolled, talking shit about each other but always rushing to the aid of the other one whenever something – someone – terrible had happened to him. And that’s what she had been for Jeff: something terrible – something terribly weird, irritating, plain stupid like only a teenager can be; something to laugh about with his friends, to parade around like a shitty trophy, to forget as soon as the game had ceased to be funny, along with his old fake-ass personality and behavior, and never again to be talked about. It didn’t matter if her heart clenched whenever he laughed because he still got wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, like he used to do… she had to bury that annoying buzz deeper, alongside their old selves – fake or not – that they had so meticulously killed. No laughter or smile could carry the same meaning of five years before. She couldn’t be fooled: she was the first one whose eyes couldn’t smile anymore, no matter how broad the grins she displayed were. She also couldn’t care less if anybody – her aunt Liliana, Leo, even Eddie – told her that she needed help, that she couldn’t go on like this, always internalizing, always stifling what she really felt, always thinking she had to face everything on her own… they could keep on babbling, she was still the one who in the end got to make the decisions. <Ok, my whole life has been a perpetual avoidance of every fuckin’ problem until it has all become a majestic mess, and there isn’t a single day that passes without me thinking I could have done something better with my life… so what? Does this give everybody the right to tell me how I should or should not live? Don’t think so> The girl finally ended her internal monologue with a scoff and emptied her glass, without the slightest intention of making eye contact with anybody.

#Eddie Vedder #Jeff Ament #Pearl Jam #eddie vedder fanfiction #pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #jeff ament fanfiction #Birds of a Feather #chapters

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part seventeen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±4700 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part seventeen: Unable to sleep, Y/N goes over last night’s events, until she gets an unexpected visitor. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘After My Heart + Can’t Help Falling In Love’ - John Michael Howell. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Please listen to this song during the scene, it’s so worth it! Author’s note: I’m excited for this one, y’all! Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

The bunkhouse is silent after a festive night. All the lights out, except for the one on Y/N’s bedside table. Sleep might have come limited the past week, but she isn’t ready to close her eyes just yet. The adventurous trail, combined with the unexpected news about her qualification has her riled up with excitement.

Not sure what to do with this new found energy, she has taken out one of her notebooks, which is filled with scrabbles. She won State Championships with a relatively simple floorplan, not wanting to overshoot, but if she wants to leave an impression with the judges at Congress, she needs to step up her game. Combinations between exercises will push up her degree of difficulty, so she decided to change a few lines. Working on her freestyle tonight wasn’t entirely according to plan, but who knows, maybe the tequila and beer will add some creativity.

She has changed into a comfortable tank top and a pair of shorts, the soft fabric a contrast to the sandy denim she’s been clad in the past days. The temperature is comfortably warm, early October in Arizona much more like summer compared to the autumn days she’s used to in Maine.

Strangely, she hasn’t been homesick for Freeport at all. She misses her mom and dad, her brothers, but after her time living on campus, she’s used to being away from family. Her father travels a lot for work, and Jaime, her older brother by three years, moved to the other side of the country straight out of the Police Academy, fighting crime in Los Angeles these days. Middle kid Jackson bought a house in Boston and is busy with his real estate firm, while her oldest brother, Jeff and his wife are expecting their first child. Y/N wouldn’t say they have grown apart, but now that she and her siblings don’t share a house anymore, things have changed. They’ve spread their wings, built a life for themselves.

She checks her phone when a message from Jaime pops up, sending her a selfie in which he shows off his muscles, holding up a fist. ‘Show them what you’re made of! You’re gonna ace that ride!’ he added in the caption. She closes the text, scrolling down the list of messages from family and friends, until she finds one from Jeffrey, which is a little more lengthy. ‘Mom said I had to wait until Dad reached you, so I hope you got the news by now, otherwise I’m in trouble. Congratulations, Sis. You worked so hard for this. I’m really proud of you, and I know Grandpa will be cheering you on from above. You’re already a champion.’ She smiles at the sweet words; she should really give him a call next week.

Redirecting her attention to the notebook in her lap, she picks up her pen, sketches a new line, crosses it and bites on the pen cap, pondering. Marcel, her trainer at the Freeport Equestrian Center, helped her with the first version. She could get in touch with him tomorrow, she’s sure he will be willing to shed a light on what she has so far. Distance will be an issue, though, and with time being of the essence since it’s only fifteen days before they head towards Columbus, Ohio, where Congress is held, she has to take a different approach.

What if she asks Dean to help her with the freestyle, or even to come with her to the show? He has helped her a couple of times during training and she appreciates his approach. His suggestions and tips paid off; his methods really seemed to work for both her and Meadow. The head wrangler knows Y/N and her horse well enough to offer advice in bringing out their best qualities, she just hopes he’s up for it. After some drinks, Dean didn’t stick around long. When she asked Jo where he went, she said Dean offered to do the final feeding round. Y/N thought about following him, but didn’t want to draw attention from the rest of the crew; them both gone would’ve raised suspicion and she doesn’t want to put him in the spot of having to explain himself.

When Y/N noticed his absence, her stomach made an unpleasant flip. The uneasy sensation remained the rest of the evening, not evident, but brewing nonetheless, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. She wonders if something has changed, maybe. That coming home to the ranch caused Dean to reconsider. Why else would he distance himself?

Doubtful, she takes a breath, her mind going places she’d rather not be. Still missing a steady foundation for them to start building a relationship on, doubt surfaces again. Deep down she’s scared that the cowboy might back out, which would cause heartbreak she’s not sure she can handle. She cares too much already, she’s too far gone. Y/N is passing the station of just being in love with Dean; it’s growing into something even more.

Before her thoughts can spiral further, there’s a soft knock on the door. The kind that is soft enough to not wake her had she been sleeping, but loud enough for her to hear if she wasn’t. She slides out of bed, rises to her bare feet, careful not to bump her head against the top bunk like she has so many times already, and crosses her room. When she opens the door, she finds the man who has been on her mind on the other side, locking his green eyes on her. She’s pleasantly surprised to see him with it being past 11 PM already; she expected him to be in bed long ago after the exhausting past few days. “Hey, what are you doing u--”

He doesn’t let her finish and bridges the few feet between them, cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into a kiss. After the initial shock, which only lasts a fraction of a second, he can feel her lashes brush against his skin as she closes her eyes and melts into him, allowing him to deepen the connection. Her response takes away the restlessness that weighed on his chest like a chunk of concrete, ever since the thought of her leaving arose.

They step into her room far enough for Dean to kick the door shut, preventing possible eavesdroppers from tuning in, his mouth never leaving hers. Instinctively, her arms snake around his torso, tracing the lines of his strong back through the fabric of his shirt. There’s a desperation in his touch that’s new to her, the way he longs for this connection is different. Eventually, he breaks the kiss and she studies him when he rests his forehead against hers. His eyes stay closed for a little longer, holding on to the moment while his hands slip from her face.

He didn’t want to steal a few seconds while surrounded by the crew, he didn’t want to get in line to give her a quick hug or a peck on the cheek. No, he needed to be with her, just the two of them without restrictions.

“What was that for?” she wonders. “Just wanted to congratulate you.” He smiles, trying to mask his concern, and sweetly presses his lips on hers again. “Personally.” And again. “Privately.” And again. She giggles, triggering him to chuckle as well. He moves his head back to take her in. “Congratulations, Yankee,” he says, genuine. “You earned it.” “Thank you,” she smiles, still slightly confused. “Where’d you go earlier?” “Someone had to feed those poor starving animals,” he jokes. “And since Bobby already had a few whiskies, and Garth is an absolute light weight, I took one for the team.”

He was quick to take the final feeding round, not just because he was the last man standing. Doing one last check, giving the horses their hay for the night, making sure the stables are shut properly, locking up the tackroom and the cafeteria and eventually the large barn doors after switching off the lights; it offers him peace of mind. It’s a daily routine, a recurring series of actions, done so 365 days a year. Ensuring everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be in the place where he lives and works, grounds him when he’s feeling restless. It gives him a moment alone, the horses his only company, allowing him to think things over and collect himself again. Tonight was no different, because even though he was relieved Y/N’s father wasn’t the bearer of bad news, Dean felt disturbed with his initial response. For a good few minutes, he thought he was going to lose her, and the anxiety it surfaced was much more intense than he anticipated.

Y/N keeps watching him as the cowboy is lost in thought. He’s trying to be funny and cute, but that’s not all there is to it; his eyes tell a different story. He kissed her a little too fierce, pulled her in a little too tight. Something is bothering him, and although she doesn’t want to force him to talk, she needs to know what it is before she loses her mind herself. “What’s wrong, Dean?” she asks, softly, moving her hands up his chest. “It’s nothin’,” he assures, shaking his head.

But when the concern remains evident in her expression, he sighs. He doesn’t want her to worry, or think it’s something she’s done. If anything, she’s been absolutely perfect. God, she’s so patient. Even though she needs him, she offers him space. Expressing how he feels might be terrifying, it’s about time he’s fair with the woman who’s willing to wait. “It’s just that, uh - when your dad called, he… he sounded pretty serious,” Dean admits, looking down. “I thought something might have happened with your folks or somethin’, and that you...” He pauses, struggling, but Y/N knows enough. “You thought Dad was going to tell me to come back,” she realizes.

Suddenly his behavior makes so much more sense. His complete change of demeanor when he approached her table in the saloon after receiving the call, him seeming as nervous as she was when she picked up the phone. The sigh of relief when she told him and Jo the great news, his disappearance from the celebration at the saloon. Dean thought he was going to lose her, and apparently it scared him. Y/N is as stunned by the realization, as she is by the confirming nod he gives her.

“Well - I mean - it could’ve been, right?” he says, shrugging his shoulders almost apologetically, like he’s not allowed to be worried about a presumption as such. “I’m twenty-four, Dean. I’m not going anywhere unless I want to,” she reminds him, hoping to offer him some consolation. “Glad to hear it,” he responds, his hands moving to her waist as he restores eye contact. “‘cause I’d hate to see you go.”

Heartfelt, the beautiful girl in his arms smiles. She seems to understand the weight of his words, because she crosses her wrists behind his head and urges him to come closer. Dean’s heart swells in his chest when she brushes her lips against his, tentatively at first. His mind calms, the nerves subsiding. Not only is she staying, she also understands what’s going on in his head, and in a strange and unexpected way, it’s kind of liberating. Not having to pretend and put on a mask, not having to convince anyone that everything is fine. He’s gotten so used to telling people he’s okay, the words to express himself prove to be hard to grasp. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll get the hang of it.

Dean’s mind goes blank when she deepens the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. Her arms close around his neck a little tighter, holding him so close he can feel the warmth coming from her skin. She smells amazing, the scent of her shampoo still lingering in her hair, a sweet smell of a flower he can’t name. He presses his fingertips into her flesh, carefully shifting them under the hem of her tank top, even though he knows very well that he shouldn’t. It isn’t going to take long before he will not be able to stop himself.

She feels him trace her sides, rolling up the fabric of her top as he does so. Normally she would be self-conscious about it, but when she parts from him when running out of air, all she sees in his eyes is adoration and want. Both seem to be waiting for each other, unsure if they should take this further. Afterall, considering what they agreed on, this would be a poor execution of taking things slow.

Without breaking away from her gaze, his left hand travels down, following the curves of her hips. He adds pressure, gently pulling her against him. What she feels through the denim of his jeans has her eyes grow wide. A delightful tension starts to tangle up in her stomach, sinking deeper. Somewhat surprised that she apparently has this effect on him, she takes in a shuddering breath, gazing deep into his eyes. God, she wants to go there, but is he willing to as well? “Are you sure?” she checks with him. Dean doesn’t have to think twice and nods. To hell with it, he’s not going to waste another second. “I want you,” he breathes, his voice husky.

It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear him say. It might not be the confirmation of their relationship she’s been hoping to get eventually; it’s better. He wants her. He wants her.

Free from restraints, she crashes her lips to his and Dean doesn’t hesitate to return the kiss with the same need. All the question marks, the doubt, the thoughts along the line of ‘what if it goes wrong?’ and ‘maybe we shouldn’t do this’ go right out the window. It wouldn’t matter if they waited longer, because if that wake up call taught the cowboy anything, it’s that together or not, it would tear him to pieces if she were ever to leave the ranch. If he’s going to spend this time with her, he better make it worth her while, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll stay with him in the end.

Eventually, his mouth leaves hers and begins to descend, his breath tickling her skin as he ghosts down her neck. Willingly, she rolls her head to her shoulder, offering him space to leave marks on her pulse point, then down her collarbone. The hint of delicious pain has her fighting back a moan, which proves to be challenging, especially when his hands roam down to cover her peach-shaped behind. Trying to distract herself and be useful at the same time, she begins to unbutton his plaid shirt, his touch momentarily interrupted until the piece of clothing falls to the floor in a puddle of blue, soon followed by his white undershirt.

Before Dean urges her closer again, he drags the only chair in the room away from the small table by the window, sitting down and pulling her with him. The wood underneath them creaks when she settles in his lap, her bare knees on either side of the cowboy, holding herself up and leaning into his bare chest. The denim of his jeans stretches over his erection, rubbing against her core. The sheer thought of a few layers of fabric being the only barrier between him and her, sends a surge of heat to dampen her panties. Thank God she chose the lace ones earlier after her shower, the ones she can only wear whenever she’s not spending her day in the saddle. She wonders if he can tell how aroused she is already.

Dean can. He can feel the warmth radiating towards him and he can feel himself growing even harder, too. His breath hitches and he stifles a groan when she rolls her hips, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Ho-ly shit. This might not be how he originally imagined their first time, in this tiny room with thin walls, this one chair and a bunk bed, but it feels so good. He has enveloped her in his arms, his hands roam her body, not leaving a square inch unattended. Without tearing the seams, he pulls the strap of her loosely fitted tank top over one shoulder, the material shifting down. His fingers then reposition to cup her breast, all while he presses kisses on top. When he moves his thumb over her stiff nipple, she pulls in an audible gasp. “Sssh…” he hushes. “Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors.”

Y/N can’t help it, though. The friction she feels beneath her, combined with the touch of his mouth and his fingertips, is already beginning to build her up. She begins to pant, her lungs pushing out air in quivers. Dean doesn’t stop, however, and continues to knead her breast without hurting her, smothering the sounds she makes with another breathtaking kiss. His other hand has snaked around her waist again, splayed on the small of her back now, spurring her on to move against him. Good God, if he keeps this up, she might come undone without him even actually touching her down there.

The chair creaks louder when she moves against him, triggering Dean to cringe. The old furniture is either going to break or wake everyone in the bunkhouse, and so he pulls Y/N flush against him and stands up. Without missing a beat or breaking the kiss, she folds her legs around his waist as he walks her to the bed. Laying her down and fitting himself on top turns out to be a little more difficult than he thought it would be, the bunk bed limiting his space, but after some shimmying, he manages.

He hovers over the woman he’s about to be intimate with, mesmerized by the sight of her laying underneath him, her chest heaving, her eyes lustful. She’s the definition of gorgeous without even trying. Dude, how the hell did you manage to hold back this long?

The trail of kisses he presses on her stomach has Y/N arching her back, her eyes closed in delight as he travels down. Gently, he opens her legs a little wider, feather light touches electrifying her skin, sending currents towards her center. His hands leave her then, teasingly letting her wait in suspense. She listens, trying to pick up on any sound of him breathing or moving, her senses operating on full capacity. He’s testing her patience like he has done for the past few days. A chill runs down her spine as seconds tick by, but then Dean palms her heat through the fabric of her shorts. She bites her bottom lip at the unexpected connection, her fists clenching the comforter and a moan escaping her throat. This is happening. This is really happening.

Y/N feels him tracing the waistband of her shorts, before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem. He’s about to drag them down and move in, when they hear a door handle being pushed down. Her eyes shoot open in time to see Dean jerk back and sit up startled, hitting his head hard against the top bunk. The collision of his skull with the solid wood creates a loud bang, followed by a strangled groan. He curses through gritted teeth, trying to make as little noise as possible, while outside the room a door shuts. Horrified, they both stare at the other end of the room, not moving a muscle as shuffling footsteps cross the hall, opening another door and closing it again. A toilet seat is lifted up, the person whistling to himself softly. There can be only one person who needs encouragement to relieve himself: Garth.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean hisses. Y/N is unable to stop a snort, sniggering silently, even though she tries not to. “You okay?” she checks, trying to sound concerned. Not very convincing, apparently, because Dean shoots her a glare, while rubbing the sore spot on his head. The toilet flushes loudly and obscenely, triggering the woman underneath him to giggle unstoppably. When he shushes her, frantically holding his finger to his lips, it achieves the opposite, causing him to break character as well. Doing their best to keep it down, she clasps her hand over her mouth while Dean presses his lips together, trying to compose himself. “You need to be quiet,” he whispers. “I c-can’t”, she hiccups, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Garth heads back to his room, either sleep walking or he’s deaf, because he doesn’t pick up on any of the action happening on the other side of the hall. His door closes, the springs of his bed creak as he gets back in, and silence returns. “Would you stop?” Dean chuckles, poking Y/N’s side when she fails to control her laughing fit. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she returns, struggling to keep it down. “How’s your head?” “It’s alright,” he claims, ignoring the slight bump when he runs his hand through his hair. “Moment’s gone, ain’t it?”

She wipes the tears from her face, breathing in now that she’s capable again. Comforting, she reaches for his hand. As much as she would like to continue, the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. Their first time together shouldn’t have to be clumsy and uncomfortable, in a bed that’s too small in a room with paper thin walls. “Rain check?” she proposes. Dean leans in to leave a kiss on her lips. “Rain check. ‘Sides, wouldn’t wanna have to hold back because you can’t keep it down.” She pokes him in his stomach now. “Don’t get cocky.”

Dean scoffs, sliding from the bed without hitting his head this time. Grinning mischievously, he turns around, pulling her to her feet as well. The cowboy takes a second to really look at her again, glad to notice the lack of insecurity in her composure. Her hair is messy, strands escaping the loose bun at the base of her neck, ready for bed in her pajama shorts and a comfortable top. She could have felt self-conscious in this situation, especially since their moment together came to an abrupt and slightly awkward end. But she isn’t, she feels at ease when she’s with him. A small smile forms on the cowboy’s lips.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll skip the afternoon siestas, now that the temperatures are droppin’, so we’ll start an hour and a half later tomorrow. I figured you might wanna train Meadow first thing in the morning?” he suggests, picking up his shirts from the floor. Y/N agrees, glad that she’s being given the space to focus on Congress. “Dean, about that…” He glances back, patiently waiting for the follow up. “I was wondering if you could maybe help me out with my freestyle?” she asks, a little shy. “Yeah, of course,” the head wrangler responds without hesitation. “Great,” she breathes, relieved. “And there’s this other thing.” Dean steps closer, laying his shirt and flannel over his shoulder so that he has his hands free and can lace his fingers with hers. “What is it?” “I was hoping you could coach me,” she says, looking up at him. “Not just at home, but when I have to compete in Columbus, too.”

Humbled, he gazes back, the corners of his mouth curving up. Coaching such a skilled rider as Y/N would be an absolute privilege, and with the trainers he knows she’s had, he’s surprised she’s asking him. Sure, the connection they have personally is there on a much more professional level as well, but they are talking Congress here, the biggest show of the year, and possibly the most important one of her career. Apparently, she has as much faith in his abilities to guide her as he has faith in her talent. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he states. “Really?” Y/N responds, thrilled. “Hell, yeah,” Dean says, excited. “I’ll have to check with management if I can get time off for Congress, but I have plenty of days left. Plus, I think Ellen is kinda rooting for us.” She chuckles, but then does a double take. “Wait, what? Ellen knows we’re together? I - I mean, not together together, I get that we’re not an item--” “-Ellen knows,” he grins, squeezing her hand when he interrupts her nervous train of words. “I think basically everyone knows by now, except Garth and Bobby.”

A little uneasy Y/N glances from their hands up into his eyes. Wait… Is she reading too much into his words? He didn’t correct her when she used the term ‘together’. Why didn’t he? Is he worried he might upset her again? If anything, she doesn’t want to push him to oblige to something he’s not ready for. “Dean, I know we just… I didn’t mean--” She pauzes, collects herself and starts over. “I know you’re not ready for a relationship and that’s fine, we had that conversation already. I’m not trying to rush you.” “You’re not rushin’ me,” he assures, calmly. “I just needed a wake up call in order to pull my head out of my ass.” The woman before him hesitates, “W-what do you mean?”

The wrangler wets his lips, taking a second to choose his words carefully. “When your old man called, for a minute I thought you were about to hop on a plane and that I was never gonna see you again,” he admits. “And - uh, it kinda freaked me out, to be honest.” He huffs, barely able to believe what he’s about to say. “I’m not gonna keep you waitin’ any longer, Yankee. I know I said I want you, earlier, but truth is…”

Y/N watches him glance down at their hands again, running his thumb over her knuckles. Nerves close off her throat, because she has a hunch that he’s about to break it to her; he doesn’t want the commitment.

Tears begin to prick in her eyes, but not from laughter this time. She knew it was going to be difficult to get close to him. Dean keeps to himself, probably because he cared too much in the past and learned his lesson the hard way. The possibility of her leaving spooked him today, and now he’s done. He doesn’t want to risk that kind of heartbreak, he doesn’t want to rely on anyone. Dean Winchester would rather fill his world with a hundred shallow and meaningless flings than with one solid partner, and this is him setting her free, before things get out of -- “I wanna be with you.”

Her racing mind, which was breaking the speed limit, hits a brick wall. Shocked, she pulls her eyes away from their entwined fingers, gazing at him almost dumbfoundedly. Did he just say he wants to be with me? “W-what?” she stammers. “I mean, if you’ll still have me,” Dean adds, a little unsettled by her response. “Look, I know I’m not exactly an open book and that I behave like a dick sometimes when you try to get through to me. I’m stubborn as hell and my communication skills need some work—”

Now it’s Y/N who cuts him off for a change, closing the gap and kissing him passionately. He eases into her, smiling against her lips and leaves a peck on her hair when she embraces him and buries her face under his chin. Relieved, he allows the breath he was holding to leave his lungs. “So, what do you say?” he asks, cocking his head back slightly to be able to look her in the eye again. “Up for a challenge?” “Are we talking about us training together for Congress, or us as a couple?” she checks, regaining her footing again. Dean frowns and chuckles at that. “Both.” She doesn’t need time to think. She knew the answer to this question long before Dean was ready to ask. “Yes,” she beams. “Hell, yes.”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eighteen here

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