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wearywinchester · 3 years ago

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Something Old and Something New — Part One

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluff

A/N: Part one to my mechanic!Dean series!

Kansas.

It’s always been home to you no matter what, even if your time was split between here on summer break and the apartment you shared with Sam while the two of you went to school together. It was somewhere that never changed despite your ever changing life, and that was something you felt you needed amidst everything swirling through your mind as of the last six months. A place that was always there to welcome you back home with open arms no matter how few and far between your stays back there were. It was home and it was familiar.

You sighed as you looked out of the car window, gaze focused on just about everything you could see ever since you landed at the airport just barely half an hour earlier. You had to admit you were happy to be home for more than just a short period of time, you missed it here. But you wished it were under better circumstances.

Sam was still back at Stanford surely with his nose stuck in a book far too thick for you to think about without giving yourself a headache, and while the thought made you smile, you couldn’t help the nagging feeling knowing you should be there too. You were nearing the tail end of your time in law school, having had one year left before you’re expected to graduate and get your degree, though you were feeling a little less excited than you think you should be. You were home instead of over there after all.

“For itchin’ to be back home, you sure don’t look like it,” Benny chuckled from the driver’s seat, glancing at you as your lips pursed and your brow quirks up. He nudges you with his elbow to accompany his words, his amusement only increasing at your grumpy expression.

Benny.

He was your parents best friend for as long as you can remember, the closest thing you’ve got to family since your parents passed away a few years back. He was an uncle to you just as much as Bobby Singer was to Sam and Dean, and you knew you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Even when he’s giving you a hard time like in that very moment.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on taking this kind of a break either, Benny,” you huff, shifting in your seat. You turned your head at the quiet sound of his laugh, your gaze narrowing. “‘S not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But that pout you got goin’ on is.”

When he looks at you once more it takes all but a few seconds for you to turn your head and look away, eyes rolling as you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile. You shake your head, knowing it’s no use to even try.

But it’s true, you weren’t expecting to take this kind of a break this far into college because you weren’t expecting to fall out of love with your choice in a career. You made it this far—you were twenty-four and on the brink of becoming a lawyer along with your best friend Sam. But somewhere between here and there you found yourself mulling over the possibility that maybe you didn’t quite like this kind of job as much as you initially thought. You chalked it up to burnout at first, a reasonable assumption, but after returning back from summer break last year feeling less than refreshed and ready to start the new year of studies, you weren’t feeling that same spark.

You were beginning to feel like that profession wasn’t quite the right fit for you, and that was when you decided to come home.

“You’ll figure it out, you know. You always do, Y/n/n,” he says after a little while.

The smile his words pull from you is more bittersweet than anything, because you felt so far from figuring it out that it was near laughable. If you weren’t going to be a lawyer, and you were entertaining the thought more and more every minute, you didn’t have a single clue as to what you’d do with your life. Going into the family business wasn’t exactly an ideal option—you knew your way around a car but you don’t think you could spend day in and day out being a receptionist forever either. You enjoyed what you did at the garage when you work, but you wanted to do more.

You knew that, you just didn’t know what.

“Sam doesn’t even know why I’m taking a break, that’s how ‘figured out’ I have this whole thing. He thinks it’s just ‘cause I miss home,” you say with a sigh, slumping back in your seat.

“You don’t miss home?” He asks, humor in his tone as he raises a brow in faux offense.

You flash him a half annoyed glance, lips pursed only momentarily. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Your frown has him smiling all the more as you sulk, your mood only fueling his good one because that’s just how Benny Lafitte is. Not that he likes seeing you in misery, he just sees that everything will work out in time, even if you don’t.

“C’mon, Y/n, lighten up a little, kid!” He says, as upbeat as he can be as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You roll your eyes and smile a little more. “There’s that smile.”

You shake your head as a laugh falls from your lips, huffing out another sigh as you look at him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Is there any other way to be?”

You let out an amused huff then, feeling just a little bit lighter than you had when your plane first landed, though the tension in the very pit of your stomach still remained tightly coiled in its ever present knot.

There was a lot for you to think about in the time that you had here, your mind always wandering back to how you’d tell Sam. He loved it there and it was clear to see that, it was clear to see he fit the job and was leaps and bounds more enthusiastic about it than you. You thought about the extra studying you’d have to do if you decide to go back, and the studying you should probably keep doing if you want to be consistent and retain what you’ve learned. But the mere thought itself was something that made your head spin, something that made you even more content with the idea to leave that behind and stay here.

Surely Sam would understand it.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before Benny pulled his truck into the parking lot of the garage, the one you’ve been to a million times over by now. It was just the same as you left it last—a little rough around the edges but it was like a home away from home and you’d never think otherwise.

“Dean’s real excited to see you,” he jests, nudging your arm. His laughter is immediate at the sight of your expression, a scoff leaving your lips.

“I’ll bet he is,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“I thought you two grew out of that phase by now.”

“Who said it’s a phase, Benny?” You smile.

Dean Winchester.

The one who stepped on the backs of your shoes as a kid, the one who took the last slice of pie and still will without a beat of hesitation. The one you stole flannels from as teens, especially the ones he wore most often just to hear him shout and complain when they’d gone missing. It was a habit that led you to find the stash of candy bars he’d kept hidden in his closet, snagging them not so discreetly only for him to turn around and get you right back.

The two of you strived to get on each other’s nerves and it showed to just about anyone who had the pleasure of spending so much as five minutes with the two of you in the same room. You bickered even on the best of days, always a constant string of eye rolls and curses mumbled under the others breath in complaint. He was just as stubborn as you, and maybe, just maybe have you met your match.

You hopped out of the truck and closed the door, smoothing your hands over your jeans. You squinted as you looked upward, laughing softly. “You still haven’t fixed the sign?”

The ‘s’ that was supposed to be upright at the end of ‘repairs’ had been dangling crookedly since the last time you were here, looking comical and out of place with the rest of the sign but you can’t say you were surprised that it looked the very same.

“What do you mean still? It hasn’t even been that long,” he defended, scratching his head as he bit back his grin.

“Benny, I was here eight months ago and it looks exactly the same,” you say, brow raised as you squint at him with an amused smile.

When he does nothing but shrug his shoulders and hope you take his smile as a peace offering, you simply shake your head and laugh, pulling open the front door and walking inside.

The familiarity hit you once you walked in, the slightly crammed and cluttered place smelling a little bit like gasoline and a lot like the lunch everyone had on the collective lunch break. The radio in the corner was playing classic rock, the station never having changed from it unless you wanted to get on Dean’s nerves a little bit and switch it to some pop music he swore he absolutely dreaded. You knew better than to believe that when you caught him singing some lyrics under his breath as he worked on Baby after hours.

You leaned over the counter, the desk you called your very own and your pictures were still there, little knick knacks still in there place but everything was just a little bit grease smudged from one of the guys taking up reception.

“Look who’s back in town.”

You stilled, gaze shifting upwards in an eye roll as a huff exhales through your nose. You knew that voice anywhere, it was impossible not to. It was the voice of the very one who strived to get on your nerves with nearly every word he spoke because that’s just how he is.

Dean.

You spun on your heel and met his gaze, the irritated expression you’d held for the older Winchester faltering for just a moment at the very sight of him standing before you before it quickly returned with just a little less annoyance than it once had. The smirk he wore was enough to do just that, a bit of grease smeared across his cheek with some matching stains on his shirt.

“Deanie,” you greet, his expression fading in favor of a more hardened one at the nickname you knew he hated.

It didn’t last very long, the very corners up his mouth quirking upwards in a way that was all too telling that he was undoubtedly up to something. You knew him by now yet you were still too caught up with something about him to realize it before it was too late.

“Y’miss me, sweetheart?” He asks, tugging you in close for a hug. He gave you a squeeze just to hear you whine an fuss over the fact that he’d been sweaty from the heat of working all afternoon, that and the grease that most definitely was getting all over you.

“Dean,” you grumble, shoving at his shoulders halfheartedly, “get off!”

He let go with a chuckle, his head tipping back in a louder bout of laughter at the sight of the grease having smeared on your cheek and the frown on your lips. Fighting your smile was harder than you cared to admit in that moment, and you hated the way that maybe you missed the feel of his arms wrapped around you once he let go of his embrace. You shook your head partly in a bit of annoyance and partly to shake those thoughts away, arms having been crossed over your chest when he looked at you.

“You got a little somethin’ on your face.” He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches forward teasingly to wipe it off, your hand pushing his away.

“What’s the matter, law school too boring for you now?” He jests lightheartedly, slinging the rag in his hand up to rest on his shoulder.

You roll your eyes in response as you look away briefly. That’s when he saw a flicker of something different cross your expression for a mere moment, something he knows is more than just a little bit of annoyance. He knows you a bit better than you realize. It’s different but you quickly mask it with a smirk of your own and he thinks nothing more of it.

“Don’t you have a car to fix?”

“Don’t you have a textbook to read?”

You scrunch up your nose and he scrunches his, and you’re seconds from snagging the rag off his shoulder before the phone rings. You round the desk as he leans his elbows on the counter. He’s got a smirk on his lips as you shoo him away, more adamant the more the phone rings as he reaches over and snags a piece of candy from the jar you always kept. Your glare is one that he basks in as he pops the candy in his mouth.

“Winchester and Lafitte Automotive Repairs, this is Y/n speaking,” you say as you answer the phone, missing the way he smiles to himself and shakes his head as he walks away.

—

You sighed as the old clock on the wall behind your desk strikes seven o’clock, the last customer of the day having just picked up their car to take home. The stuffy heat had cooled off some now the the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky now that evening rolled around, the fan set up in the corner helping just a little bit. Everything was cast in a golden orange hue as the sunlight streamed in, carrying with it the shadows of the pine trees standing tall on the other side of the road.

Your work day was cut a few hours shorter than it usually was since your arrival earlier that afternoon, but you were still just as tired, body fatigued from traveling. You were more than grateful that most of your stuff was already in your apartment here, the only things you’d brought having been your clothes and things you’d miss if you left it back at your place you shared with Sam.

“This place never runs quite as good without you, you know,” Benny says, nudging your shoulder as he passes behind you to snag his keys from the hook.

You smiled at his words, nodding softly as the sentiment brightened your mood a little bit more. “You ready to go?”

You stood from your chair and pushed it in as you stretched, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. The look on Benny’s face when he’d turned around to face you was one that had you curious, cautious at that. It was apologetic and amused all in one, something that was far too indicative that what he was about to say was something you didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t be mad, but—”

You tilt your head and your expression falls neutral as your lips purse. “Why do I feel like I’m going to be mad?”

He started to pass you and round the corner, almost as if to dodge a bullet, said bullet being just about anything you could throw before he spoke up.

“I can’t take you back home, so…” he takes note of your souring mood and he holds a finger up as you walk out from behind the counter with crossed arms. “So, Dean’s gonna drive you home. I already put your bags in his car earlier.”

“You what?”

The two words were doubly shocked and equally displeased as you and the green eyed Winchester spoke them at the same time. When you turned you saw him wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it to the side, his brows furrowed.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill each other,” Benny smiled, one that was far too innocent for his own good because you knew for a fact he’d done it on purpose.

But he said nothing more as he tossed Dean his keys, kissing the top of your head before he slipped out the front door. You turned to look at Dean who’d looked at you, a mirrored look of pursed lips and furrowed brows shared between you two as silence engulfed the place for just a few moments.

“I call radio,” you say, his brow raising when you head towards the door.

“Like hell you do,” he calls after you.

You were lucky it was only a ten minute drive to get there, the tension thick as you got in the car. He turned the radio up with a sly smile and a laugh at your glare, dodging your swat to his shoulder.

“Do you listen to anything other than the same five songs, Dean?” You huff, elbow on the door as you rest your head on your hand.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he says, tapping the steering wheel as he pulls out of the gravel parking lot, engine revving as he sped down the road.

You look over at him to see the content smile sitting pretty on his lips, his arm resting on the edge of the open window as his hand settled at the very top of the door, the other rested loosely on the wheel. That very same Zepplin song was playing on the radio that you were convinced he listens to daily, in fact, you knew he did because that’s how Dean is.

“What?” He asks, amused curiosity in his tone.

“Nothing,” you say as you look away, biting the inside of your cheek.

“The hot shot lawyer’s got nothin’ to say, I’m shocked,” he says, faux surprise coating his tone.

“Will you cool it with the lawyer talk?” You huff, staving off the anger in your words with a soft shove to his shoulder.

To be fair, he didn’t know just why it was that you were back here earlier than you should be, he was just yanking your chain like he always did. But it became abundantly clear to him that there was more to it than just a little annoyance. That, paired with the look on your face earlier made it all the more clear for him to see that.

He looked over at you with furrowed brows, the dimples by the corners of his mouth appearing as he looked at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. He may have cracked jokes and got on your nerves just as much as you did the same to him, but he knew you more than you realized, knew when something was more than just a joke to you. You’ve got this frown that you don’t even know you have, and you bite your lip. He even notices that you tap your foot too—he noticed the little things but he won’t admit it.

His jaw clenched as he turned the radio down a little, speeding up a bit more down the open road.

You’re quick to get out when you arrive at your apartment. It was a nice little place, a house rather, one split right down the middle. You’ve got the right side and Mrs. Allen’s got the left, a sweet older lady that’s lived there far longer than you. She makes a point to tell you you’re her favorite neighbor, and she makes a point to say something about you and Dean every time she sees him that makes your eyes roll.

You knew for a fact she’d say something in the morning.

You snagged one of your bags from the trunk and he grabbed the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to carry my stuff, you know. I can do it myself,” you say, but you make no effort to grab it from him.

“I know you can.”

You sigh as you fish your keys from your pocket as you continue on up the walkway and up the steps of your porch, sticking them in the door. You drop your stuff down just inside the door with a sigh, grabbing the bag from his outstretched hand before you step inside and turn the front light on.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet as the words sit on the tip of his tongue. The very words he’s been thinking about since you’d gotten upset in the car even if you wouldn’t dare to admit it.

“Good night, Dean,” you say, offering a half smile as you go to close the door.

His palm presses to the door almost before you move to close it, and he steps forward a step or two. Your brows furrow as you lean against the doorframe, watching as his mouth opens and closes a few times, and he’s lost for words for a few moments. You don’t push and you don’t pry as you stand there curiously, arms having been crossed over your chest.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he starts, hesitant and a bit quieter as he scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat. “In the car, I mean.”

You stand there, and it takes a beating silence before he meets your gaze. The sincerity in his voice isn’t something you hear all too often in your direction, having always been jokes and witty sarcasm painted over his words but this, this was a little different.

“S’okay,” you say, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

He smiles then, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he nods. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You nod at his words, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Good night, Winchester.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding when you closed the door, back pressing to it as you tip your head back. The day you had left you more than tired, thoughts running wild with no end in sight. But the day wasn’t half bad, not really. The two of you had gotten on each other’s nerves every moment you get to do so, but maybe you missed him a little bit more than you thought. Maybe through the layers of wit and remarks there was a little part of you that missed the green eyed Winchester but you’d never admit it.

Unbeknownst to you, maybe he did too.

The rumble of his engine was clear as he pulled away and drove down the street, a huff leaving your lips as you rub your face as you lock the door behind you for the night.

—

Series taglist: @myloversgone @dean-is-sams-apple-pie

General taglist: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst

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doloresdraws · 3 years ago

Photo

‘When I look back on my life It's so hard to face you I never wanted to fight this fight I'm ashamed of the truth No, I don't want to hurt you, baby I don't want to hurt you, baby I didn't mean to hurt you, baby

God, I'm sorry’

When I look back on my life I never wanted this fight (I don't want to hurt you baby) If I could turn back time (I don't want to hurt you baby) I would make it alright (I don't want to hurt you baby)

I love you, I love you sunshine’

Unbelievable, but I painted something new and even managed to finish it in two sittings.

Finally a proper painting of my Sabbat Nosferatu character Fox for our upcoming Sabbat game set in San Francisco. Since his story didn’t start yet I can only share something about his background.

Fox came to San Francisco from a small town in Ohio to escape a brewing unhappiness and resentment towards his mother and responsibility of caring for his two younger sisters that in his eyes slowed him down. He was tired of having to act like an adult in his family and also having to endure the looks and gossips of his classmates, because everyone knew what his mother did for a living to be able to take care of her three kids.

He had these naive dreams that living in California will bring him more and better opportunities to make good money and to live the life he often saw on tv growing up. He really wanted to become something, to prove his mother that you can get money with honest, not self-degrading work. He really hoped that he will be able to earn enough money to ensure that his sisters will never end up in the same line of work as his mother. Of course the reality was not quite how he imagined, he struggled to find work at first, having to even spend a few nights sleeping in the park, but with his determination and eagerness to do just almost any work he was able to find various construction work and other small odd jobs to sustain his basic human needs. A lot of his colleagues were of Mexican and Venezuelan origin and through daily socializing with them he actually picked up some Spanish. He was still looking for a better, stable job but even though he often had little money to go on, he was adamant to stay clear of any criminal work. After about 6 months he was able to secure a job as the sewage treatment plant worker, it wasn’t as glorious work as he dreamed of and the surroundings were often very unpleasant, but he hid his pride and put his best efforts to do his job well. He quickly became very good at it and was even promoted, with the extra money he was able to rent a small apartment.Although far from how he imagined it, his life for the next few years was quite good, he managed to find himself a girlfriend and was planning to get marry to her, the biggest problem was that Gloria was in the US illegally, so he had to figure out how to make it happen.

Unfortunately everything changed when Fox got into an accident during his work when a gas pipe exploded and a fire had started. He was one of the few people injured, but unfortunately for Fox, he was the one who got the most severe burns that covered about 40% of his body, unfortunately also his lower half of the face, neck and hands. After this accident his life spiraled quickly, his company had friends in higher places, so instead of paying for health bills of their workers, they actually scapegoated Fox and sued him and his group of workers for the accident. He had no money for a fancy lawyer, so he lost the case, together with his medical bills his debts started piling up. His personality changed, he was angry or didn't speak at all for days. Gloria tried to help him and tried to be by his side, but he hated the fact that he could see the pity on her face whenever she looked at him. So he really started being mean to her so she would leave him alone, right now he didn't want anyone around. One day it got out of hand and he pushed her out of the door and told her never to come back, that she should get back to her Taco country or something offensive like that. He also managed to shout some Spanish insults at her, his words really hurt her as she ran away with tears.After a few days he felt really bad for breaking the things between him and Gloria in such a horrible way. He knew deep down that he needed her and wanted her by his side, even if it hurt to see how she looked at him, he knew that she was worth it. She actually never showed him where she lived before, so obviously the only places to look for her were the areas where she used to work. He hated to go outside and interact with people as they would always look at him the same, with pity and disgust, but he wanted to try to make up with Gloria. Yet when he asked in the bar the manager said that Gloria didn’t come to work in a last few days. He then went to ask around in the market she used to help and one of the women there told him that two days ago there was a police investigation and that they took a lot of people without proper papers away and that Gloria was among them.

Once again Fox felt absolutely helpless, she was probably detained and ends up deported back to Mexico and there is nothing he can do about it. He had no money, he didn’t even know where exactly she was. That night he bought a few bottles of tequila, drank as much as he could before he felt sick and threw up, which fucking hurt as all of his scars weren't fully healed yet. He hated himself, it was his fault she ended up on the street and now she is gonna end up back in Mexico with her last memories of him will be him yelling all this horrible shit to her face. He was ashamed of himself.

After this his life got even worse, now he had no emotional support, no friends, no job, painful scars that made him look like a monster. He usually spent his days staring at the ceiling, he couldn't really drink much as it was just too nasty, so he just existed for a while. His debts forced him to find work, but he couldn't do physical jobs he was used to anymore, he managed to find some odd jobs, probably because people felt bad for him which he resented. He even worked in 7/11 store, but all of his jobs were just temporary, he couldn’t keep any of them for more than for a week. It was not that his employers were unhappy with him, but Fox couldn’t just stand all the stares and pity looks he got from his employers, coworkers and customers. It didn't take long and he couldn’t keep up with the rent and when he lost the apartment, he became homeless. He could of course get back to his mother, but he actually didn't even notify neither him or his sister about his accident, he didn't want to be a burden and also he had too much pride to ever getting back to that shitty small town. All he wanted was to hide from people, to be spared of their pitiful glances and their talk about how strong he was. He wasn’t strong, he was a shitty, pathetic person who abandoned his family, resented his own mother, he failed his sisters and he treated the person that he loved as a Punchbag for his spite and insecurities, and now she will probably end up in some kind of human trafficking ring, because of him.

I will talk about his Embrace in more detail in some future post, but basically he was a shovelhead who somehow managed to get a chance to prove himself to the Sabbat. Although he loves his pack( some more than others) he still isn’t quite convinced by the Sabbat’s ideology, his biggest difficulty being the ever-present unnecessary violence, he still tries to cling to the last bits of humanity inside of him and that often leads to dissatisfaction from the Bishop and thus reflecting badly on his pack. He is torn between trying to fit in and wanting to measure up to his fellow Cainites and to do what feels right in his heart…

I am honestly very excited to finally play a Nosferatu. ❤

Fox © me/doloresdraws lyrics © Hurt by Meg Myers

#my art #OC Fox #vtm #vampire the masquerade #World Of Darkness #ttrpg #vtm sabbat #doloresdrawsocs #digital portait #vampire art #clan nosferatu #digital painting

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matthewfairchildfanclub · 4 years ago

Conversation

TSC except it's incorrect quotes and it's part 2 and it's really fucking long sorry.

Cordelia: I like your top.

James, wearing a very bright shirt: Thank-

Matthew: Thanks dude, I like you to.

Anna: Gender is a game and I have the cheat codes.

Clary, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti caramel macchiato with, uh... seven shots of espresso.

Simon, behind her: Jesus Christ, Clary, just do cocaine.

James: If you were to die, what would be your last words?

Matthew: Finally.

James: No-

Izzy, on the phone with Magnus: Is it okay if I bring my weird roommate?

Simon: Would you please stop calling me that.

Clary: You sure you're sober enough to drive?

Jace: Yeah, I didn't drink anything.

Clary: Okay, go get the car.

Alec: [running after Jace]

Clary: It's okay, he's sober!

Alec: HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!

Will: Jem, you have beautiful eyes.

Jem: You too.

Tessa: ...

Tessa: Did I miss something?

Will: I'm straight, I just like his eyes.

Tessa: You're gay for his eyes.

Will: Exactly!

Will: Wait, no

Lucie, walking out in a new outfit: How do I look?

Matthew: Holy shit, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

Lucie: Excuse you?!

Matthew: No, not you, the thing sitting beside you.

Alastair: Fuck you.

Magnus: You sure know a lot about the law.

Julian: I do a lot of borderline illegal shit.

Cordelia: Lucie! Don't let go!

Lucie, dangling from the side of the cliff: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LET GO?!

Kit: I think I forgot to sleep because I was looking at memes.

Dru: If you ever wonder why you have no friends, just remember that sentence.

Christopher: Oh, tiddlywinks.

Matthew: JUST SAY FUCK

Will: Swear words are banned in this house, if you say one you'll be grounded.

Matthew: Heck.

Will: You're on thin fucking ice, kid.

Jace: You may not know this, Alec, but I'm a flawed person.

Alec: I do know that.

Dru: [reading the exorcist]

Dru: [laughs]

Matthew: I know you can be "underwhelmed" and you can be "overwhelmed" but...

Matthew: Can you ever just be whelmed?

James: ...

Christopher: I think you can in Bulgaria!

James: I think I'm in love with Cordelia.

Grace: Congratulations! You're officially the last one to know.

Tessa: James, what are you doing here? Weren't you making spaghetti tacos with Mattew, Christopher, and Thomas?

James: Well, I was.

Tessa: ... was?

James: Well, I- it was just getting hot downstairs because of the fire.

Tessa: THE WHAT?!

(Downstairs the kitchen is completely on fire)

Christoper, looking around while Matthew and Thomas try to put the fire out with olive oil: Oh, this isn't good.

Jace: Please shut up.

Simon: Well, since you asked nicely, no.

Will: No pain, no gain!

Matthew: But I'm in constant pain and I've lost everything-

Matthew: If you'll excuse me, I must attend to my evening affairs.

James: You mean drinking wine and eating gummy bears until you pass out on a chaise?

Cordelia: Or reading Layla and Majnun and crying in the bath because they didn't deserve it?

Lucie: Or shouting your own poetry from your balcony?

Matthew: All three, in that order.

Will: What have I told you about comparing Tatiana to the devil?

Lucie: ... that it's offensive to the devil?

Jamie: These people are my friends!

Jamie: I've known them for twelve hours!

Clary: What are we gonna do?

Simon: Don't worry, you're so small they probably won't see you.

Clary: Simon, is this really the time to be making short jokes?

Simon: Clary, it's never not the time, because just like you, life is short.

Matthew, drunk: Always strive to eat the stars.

Lucie, half asleep: Aren't they too hot?

Matthew: Blow on them first, idiot.

Cashier: Would you like your check?

Ty: If someone is being murdered right now it would be my alibi, but if someone gets murdered in the store they could pin it on me.

Cashier: Sir?

Ty: I want to speak to a lawyer.

Magnus: If you had to choose between Jace and all the money I have in my pocket, which would you choose.

Alec: Depends. How much money are we talking about?

Jace: Alec????

Magnus: Eleven cents.

Alec: Sold.

Jace: ALEC?!!??!?!

Alastair: Cursing is for those who have a limited vocabulary.

Matthew: You are an audacious, ideologically unsound, captious, presumptuous, motherfucker.

Clary: Hey, uh, maybe we need Simon's help with this one?

Jace: I would literally rather die.

Cristina: Name a way to be nice to people.

Kieran: Don't stab them.

Cristina: ...

Cristina: Setting the bar a little low but I'll allow it.

Tessa: Where have you been?

Will: Emotional hell.

Kit: I made you all of you into Sims, look.

Jace: Where are you?

Kit: I'm in the grave in the backyard.

Jace:

Clary:

Jace: Put me there to.

Clary: Oh my god-

Emma: I have the sharpest memory, name one time I forgot something.

Zara: You forgot me in a Walmart parking lot, like, three weeks ago.

Emma: I did that on purpose, try again.

Matthew: Will, did you know "thot" means "thoughtful person."

Will: Really? I did not know this modern slang.

(later)

Will: Thank you for helping me with the stables, Tessa, you're such a thot.

Tessa, wheezing: I'm a WHAT?

Julian: [choking]

Kit: I'm trying to call 911 but the 9 button isn't working!

Dru: Just flip your phone upside down and use the 6.

Julian, stopping his choking for a second: What the fu-

Emma, getting in the front seat: Alright, is everyone ready to go?

The Blackthorns: Yep!

Emma: Okay, let's go.

(looks into the mirror to see Zara running after the van)

Emma: [whispers to herself] Goodbye you little shit.

Cordelia: What the hell is going on??

Matthew: Oh, great, you heard my cry for help.

Cordelia: You mean your girly scream?

Matthew: I MEAN MY CRY FOR HELP

James: The risk I took was calculated.

James: But holy shit am I bad at math.

Izzy and Magnus: [getting arrested at a protest]

Cop: Fake ID's, fake credit card. Got anything on you that's real?

Izzy: My tits.

Magnus: My ass.

[in a group chat]

Dru: Adding "lmao" does not hide your pain.

Kit: Yeah it does lmao.

Matthew: Excuse me, who made James the boss of the group.

Christopher: You did.

Thomas: You said, "James should be the boss".

Lucie: And then you said, "lets vote," and it was unanimous.

Cordelia: And then you made him a plaque that says, "Boss Of Us".

Anna: And put little sparkles all over it.

Matthew: ... All valid points.

Matthew: And once again, James and Matthew save the day.

Lucie: You didn't do anything.

Thomas: It was all James.

Matthew: We're a package deal. Everyone knows that.

Jem: I am not "too nice"!

Will: Jem, you apologized-

Jem: I have manners!

Will: -to the waiter who spilled soup on your lap.

Kit: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Kit: [punches a wall]

Kit: Take me to the hospital.

Julian: People ask me how I handle the rest of my family so easily.

Julian: The truth is, I don't.

Julian: I have no control over them.

Julian: I walked into the house today and Mark shot me in the neck with a nerf gun.

(At a New Years Eve party)

Alec, to the TMI gang: I would like to make a toast!

Alec, raising his glass: I cannot believe we have gone through another twelve months of absolute fuckery.

Alec: Cheers!

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everydayescapeartist · 3 years ago

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JB Fic Exchange Recs - AU Oneshots

Well, I’ve gotten through about half of the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange fics at this point, which is both not nearly enough for my liking and also pretty impressive for me, lol. I wanted to get some recs out ahead of the reveal because the wealth of talent in this fandom should be celebrated and shouted from every rooftop...and here we are down to the wire. Haha! Obviously, there are SO many more awesome fics available, so take this as just a lovely sampling. Thank you dear authors for sharing your talents with us all!

Bug Juice: Jaime and Brienne's Summer at Camp - THIS IS MY GIFT FIC! READ IT NOW! Okay, even if this wasn't my gift fic, I would absolutely love this fun romp of a fic. My prompt was basically summer camp with JB flair and my author took that to such a level of creativity and snark, it was just beyond perfect! This one is in Myrcella's POV...I didn't even know I needed this, but I really did! She's watching the season finale of a reality tv show that's set at summer camp. Everyone is riveted by Jaime and Brienne's will-they-won't-they, enemies-to-lovers subplot, Myrcella included, even though she does have a bit of insider knowledge naturally. I love the way this is written like reality show segments, with Myrcella's brilliant reactions/commentary/texting of her uncle from her couch. There are commercial breaks that will crack you up. A very serious discussion about Capture the Flag is had. The GoT show digs are fantastic. Really, this is the fic you need to read if you like smiling for long periods of time and laughing potentially so hard you spew your drink. Oh, and also if you enjoy a good ole reality show HEA. Excerpt 1: “When Daenerys took over as Camp Director mid-session, I was worried,” Jaime says to the camera, running his good hand through his hair. “I have a complicated history with her father and she doesn’t trust me. The young Starks don’t exactly either, but Brienne has fought for me. She insisted that I am good at my job—good with the kids. She said that I am a good man.” Jaime’s eye twitches just a touch as he stares straight ahead, his face otherwise a mask of calculated neutrality. Myrcella picks up her phone, about to text her uncle to make fun of how sappy he is when the scene switches to Brienne. Excerpt 2: Brienne takes a long sip, eyeing Jaime skeptically over the rim as she lowers her cup. OMG, when are they going to make out? Just kiss him! Ugh, they better kiss or I’m going to lose my damned mind. “You keep it warm enough in here,” he complains with a sigh, brushing past Brienne, who slowly sets her cup down and turns to him. She wipes her wide palms on her shorts and watches his back as he struggles to shed his hooded sweatshirt. Excerpt 3:

“Nooooo!” Myrcella screams and falls off the couch. She lands on the ground with a thud. She scrambles to untangle herself from her blanket and clamour back up onto the couch to grab her phone. She sends Jaime a shouty text.

Score - Jaime, Brienne, and bar trivia! Also, face-sitting goodness...what's not to love?!

Excerpt: “And because I was right and you were wrong, I demand you two go on a date.”

“Excuse me,” Brienne squeaked. Was Tyrion trying to humiliate her? How could he suggest something so absurd without a cruel intention?

To Jaime’s credit, he had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. He even blushed. “Stop it, Tyrion,” he said, annoyed.

“I’m serious,” his brother replied. “You two have been flirting all night. Do something about it or this trivia arrangement will not work out in the long run.” Privilege - Jaime coming up with ridiculous lawsuits so he can keep spending time with his lawyer, Brienne (and a couple not-so-ridiculous ones too). This one is hilarious and clever and also very sweet. Do yourself a favor and read it!

Excerpt: “Jaime. At this point, I have known you for eighteen months—”

As their drinks appeared, he tapped his mochaccino against her tea. “Cheers!”

“—we have never not been in court! Seven Hells, Jaime, last month you had me sue Stoneheart Press because you didn’t like the representation of Goldenhand the Just in their line of historical fiction novels.”

He took a sip of his coffee. Anyone else would look ridiculous drinking what was essentially a dessert in a three-piece suit. But not Jaime. Jaime just…looked good. “And you won all those cases, Tarth. You’re good. Occasionally graceless while dealing with opposing counsel, but good all the same.

I hope our paths will croissant again - the way to my heart is baked goods...no, really, my hubby's a good and generous baker. So, any story where Jaime has baking skills is going to appeal to me. That said, this one is sweet and funny and has some pining and dare I say it was delicious? Go enjoy it!

Excerpt 1: “She didn’t hire me,” Jaime says. “She’s holding me hostage, actually.”

She stares at him for a moment, and then realizes he’s joking, and he laughs uproariously at the look on her face.

“I’m good at my job. Why’d she hire you? ”

Excerpt 2:

When Jaime comes back to work, he teases her again, though lightly, and she assures herself that whatever she felt in his apartment that evening is something that he can’t possibly reciprocate and nothing is ever going to come of it, so they can just be coworkers and it will be fine. She scrubs the kitchen countertop very aggressively when he comes to help her with a batch of coconut cake and hopes he doesn’t see her blushing. Thankfully, he then spills coconut flakes all over the kitchen floor and she has to get the broom and by the time she comes back her heartbeat has slowed down properly. She tells herself she’s being very, very stupid. The stupidest, really. Absolutely top tier stupidity.

On Paper - Addam is wingman extraordinaire, guiding is best friend through some unintentional sandwich wrapper flirting.

Excerpt:

He knew better than to bring a date to Tarth’s. It was a surefire way to ruin a good thing in case of nasty break up.

Bringing his best friend along should have been safer. Less risky.

It would have been if his best friend wasn’t Jaime Lannister, that’s for damn sure.

Meet Me Cute - J & B are bodyguards to Sansa and Margaery and are forced to be around each other following their charges’ meet cute and all that follows. This is told through multiple POVs and is so fun!

Excerpt:

“Margaery, can you tell Jaime to stop using ‘our’ when referring to me,” Brienne replied, opting not to engage with him directly.

Margaery sighed and turned towards her girlfriend’s bodyguard. “Jaime… why does Brienne hate your guts?”

“Not what I said.”

Jaime shrugged, “Don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Brienne exclaimed, snapping her head up to glare at him. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Sansa chimed in. “And Jaime has told me a lot about you.”

“You shush,” Jaime said. Sansa simply laughed.

vellichor - This mesmerizing story of a world-renowned violinist and a used-bookstore owner is told via before & after segments that reveal the development of the characters and of this beautiful relationship.

Excerpt:

So he does not let himself falter as he surveys the audience, sketching out a half-bow before lifting the violin and settling it against his shoulder. His bow is still loose in his right hand, and it trembles when he goes to raise it, the scars protesting a motion he has done a million times.

Those watching will see his hesitation as part of the show, the spectacle—a prolonging of his grand return is what the articles will say tomorrow morning. They will not see the terror that jolts through his body, the fingers of his left hand pressing harder against the strings. They will not see his eyes wandering over to a box on the left side of the hall, the box where a few people he has carefully chosen sit, leaning forward along with the rest.

They will not see how he searches for a tall woman sitting among them, nor will they see the ache that takes hold of his heart when the spotlight blinds him and he is unable to push through the curtain of brilliance to see if she is there.

#jaime x brienne fic exchange 2021 #jaime-brienne-fic-exchange #braime fic recs #braime AUs #jb fic recs #braime fic reccs #jb fic reccs #jaime x brienne

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

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Team Bonding

Bryan Kneef x Reader. NSFW. Warnings: dub-con, because he’s her superior. Oral sex, vaginal fingering, and fisting. Yes. You read that right. Also squirting. You have been warned. Oh, and this covers ice-skating in my naughty & nice bingo. This is most definitely naughty.

WC: 2.8K

***

“Bryan Kneef doesn’t do ice skating.” A voice boomed from down the hall.

“Stop referring to yourself in third-person you psycho.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards the voice. You paused in front of a decorative mirror in the empty law firm and rubbed lip balm over your lips.

“I told you, Bryan Kneef doesn’t do ice skating.”

You rubbed your lips together, and then made way to the lobby, finding the acerbic head of litigation at STR Laurie, sitting in a chair, with a scowl on his face. Which, lets face it, was nothing new for Bryan Kneef.

“Look, I know this is the last thing you wanted to be doing. But your bosses up there, wanted to make the transition with Reddick Boseman smooth.” You pointed towards the ceiling and then pointed back down. “It’s not my fault we got paired up together. You said I could choose what we got to do. I chose ice skating.”

You walked past him and hit the button, calling for the elevator. You crossed your arms and began tapping your foot, irritated. “Well?”

Bryan glowered and then stood. “Fine.”

When STR Laurie announced that they wanted to do a team building exercise with Reddick Boseman & Lockhart, you were less than thrilled. The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time with work on your weekend. Especially when you were paired with Bryan. You were not blind, the man was fucking gorgeous and he cropped up in many a fantasy with your battery operated boyfriend. However, his attitude left much to be desired. He would work you and the rest of the paralegal department to the bone. You knew from his bio on the firm website, that he started himself as a paralegal upon graduating from Northwestern Law – you figured he’d be cognizant of how to treat junior staff, probably having been through it himself. Instead, he chose to continue the cycle of asshole treatment. Bryan tried to get out of it himself, but his own boss Gavin Firth told him to make nice and take part – especially if he wanted to keep leading the litigation department and not give it to Diane. Backed into a corner, Bryan reluctantly agreed.

Initially, he had hoped he would be paired with a fellow colleague who he would be able to convince to blow off this event and hit high end bar with. And if not that, he had hoped it was the blonde secretary with big tits two floors down that he could wham, bam, thank you ma’am and then move on from. Instead – he got stuck with you – the mousy senior paralegal. He knew who were – he knew who everyone was. You had worked with him on a few cases before. You were very good at your job but otherwise, left little to the imagination with your baggy, shapeless sacks of dresses and frumpy sweaters. There was no desire for him to try to get under your skirt. Not when there was a bevvy of women and men he could have, just a dial away.

As the elevator went down, Bryan chose to study your profile. Though you were bundled up to the hilt in a white puffer coat and burgundy hat, he could still see your long lashes and lush lips that had a sheen from whatever you put on them. His nose caught the barest whiff of perfume and he had to admit that it smelled lovely. The elevator landed and you walked out first. He was surprised to see a shapely ass under the dark denim fitted jeans you wore.

STR was close to Millennium Park. You both made way through to the ice skating rink, barely a word between you. You were meeting a few other STR/Boseman colleagues and friends from your department who were already there. Bryan paid for the skating rental and soon enough you were both on the ice. You skated towards your friends with ease, leaving the attorney behind, gripping the sides. A look of panic was on his face as he tried to maintain balance. You turned around and let out a derisive laugh before skating back towards him, offering your hand.

“Is the big bad lawyer afraid of a little ice?” You mocked.

“Shut up and leave me alone. I am here, aren’t I? Go back to your friends and go take your pictures. Make fun of me all you want. Come Monday, I am going to bury you all with doc production.” Bryan sneered.

You skated closer to him and offered your hand once more. “Come on, it’s not that hard – watch me.” You stood next to him. “Your knees should always stay slightly bent. That position lowers your center of gravity, stabilizing you. It also helps you to skate without falling. Also, you should always have your weight positioned over your skating leg. One time you’re skating on the right leg, and the next moment on the left one. Every time you switch legs, you must shift your weight so that it’s over the skating leg.”

You demonstrated what you had explained and then repeated it. Bryan looked at you like a deer in headlights. Your lips twitched into a small smile. “Give me your hand.”

Bryan sighed, his breath causing a small puff of air. “Fine.” He grunted and took your hand. Your hand and his hand were encased in gloves and you mourned the idea that you weren’t holding hands bare skin to bare skin. You skated easily and Bryan wobbled a bit behind, but managing to keep pace. However, at one point, another skater flew by catching Bryan off guard and he lost his balance, falling, bringing you down with him.

“Mother fucking cock sucker son of a bitch!” You swore loudly, rubbing the side of your left ankle. “Ugh, I think I twisted it, you jerk!” Tears pricked your eyes.

“You? How about me?” Bryan snapped. “I can’t even get stand up without falling down.”

“Boo hoo asshole.” Two of your friends helped you up and you tried to bear weight but found that you could not. You were helped off the ice and Bryan followed, clambering to get off the ice, using the wall of the rink to help him.

You winced as you remove the skate, examining your ankle. It was starting to swell and the area was tender to touch. Bryan sat next to you, removing his own skates as well.

“How bad is it?” You heard him ask. You looked at him. “It’s sprained.”

For a brief moment, he looked remorseful. And just as quickly as you blinked, it was gone. “I’ll get us a car; I’ll take you home.”

You cocked your brow. “Excuse me, I can get home on my own just fine.” And stubborn as you were, you tried to stand but let out a grimace of pain, plopping back onto the hard bench.

“Let me take you home.” Bryan replied.

“Wonderful.” You seethed. Bryan returned your skates, along with his and brought over you shoes. You smashed your foot into your sneaker as best you could. Bryan offered his arm and begrudgingly, you took it, and limped out of the park. The ride home was uneventful, again with barely any conversation. You hobbled up the stairs rather comically and it was Bryan’s turn to roll his eyes at your pathetic attempt. You yelped as he suddenly picked you up, bridal style.

“What’s your apartment?”

“2D.” You replied mournfully, feeling embarrassed and humiliated that you could barely manage to get around and now you were being carried like a baby. There was a small part of you, however, that squealed inwardly. You clutched onto Bryan, his body solid and warm. He smelled wonderful and you allowed yourself to pretend to be swept away by the handsome lawyer.

“I got it from here, you can put me down.” You insisted once you were both inside. You both took off your coats. Bryan swallowed hard – for all the mousy outfits you wore at work, today you wore a form fitting sweater, which showed off the dip of your hip and swells of your tits.

Bryan carefully set you down and sharp pain shot up your leg and you swore again. “Maybe you should see someone.”

“I’ll tape it and ice it,” you reassured Bryan. “I’ll be fine.” This earned you an exasperated sigh. “I will take some ibuprofen,” you added for good measure.

Bryan grumbled in French about you being stubborn as he made way through your apartment. “I heard that, and you’re one to talk,” you replied cheekily, surprising him that you knew another language. Bryan was further surprised at your modest, but overall modern apartment. He liked the exposed brick and thought your small Christmas tree with its large, vintage bulbs was tacky, but charming in a way. He went into your kitchen and rummaged through your freezer, before returning with a bag of frozen peas.

“Put this on your ankle.” Bryan ordered. You took the bag. You propped your ankle onto your coffee table and stuck the bag on. You looked up at him. “I’m good. You can go now – and don’t worry, I’ll be in on Monday. Thanks for the lift.”

Bryan nodded and turned away, making his way back down your hallway. As soon as he did, you attempted to stand and swore loudly once more. Bryan turned on the balls on his feet. “Christ, Y/N, at least wait ‘til I am gone.”

“Wha—hey!” You shouted as he picked you up again, this time over his shoulder, so you were face to his ass. He gave your ass a playful spank and made his way down your other hallway, looking for your bedroom. “Put me down!”

He found it fairly quickly and unceremoniously threw you onto your bed.

“Are you always this stubborn?” He asked, his hands on his hips. He eyed your bedroom. It was small, like the rest of your apartment.

“Are you always a pretentious asshole?” You asked. Finally, you couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Bryan didn’t respond. Instead, he sat next to you. “I know everyone thinks I am an asshole.” You snorted and Bryan let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, so I am an asshole. But I am still a fucking person.”

“The devil has feelings?” You covered your mouth and then cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Bryan shrugged. “For all the shit I do, yeah, I do.” He turned to you. “Look, I am sorry that I hurt your ankle. And maybe take Monday off – see a doctor. Don’t worry about it. I will make sure it doesn’t count against your PTO.”

You looked at him and you smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

You were suddenly aware that Bryan was in your bedroom, on your bed. He looked debonair in his burgundy sweater and dark jeans. You could see the dark beard with the tiniest flecks of grey. When he began to massage your foot, you felt desire pool in your most intimate of parts.

“Bryan – I…” You swallowed hard. He looked up at you, his green eyes were intense and he gave the slightest nod to you. You leapt into his lap, ignoring the screaming pain of your ankle and kissed him. Bryan kissed you in return and slipped his tongue into your mouth, seeking and exploring. His hands were over your ass, grabbing at your flesh. He gave you a playful squeeze which earned him a moan from you.

A hand moved up and under your sweater, skillfully unhooking your bra and immediately moving to your breasts. He tugged and twisted a nipple, enjoying how you squirmed in his embrace.

“Let me take care of you,” Bryan replied breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting. You removed your sweater and fished off your bra. His eyes darkened at the sight of your shapely breasts. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on them.

“Oh yes,” you agreed, practically purring. “I ache.”

Bryan hummed in acknowledgement. He pushed you back onto the bed and helped you out of your jeans. Slowly his hand made its way back under your underwear, along your hip. Your breathing hitched as his hand moved closer to the apex of your thighs. You were already sopping in anticipation.

“You’re so wet,” Bryan noted, a single finger stroking you briefly, before slipping inside. You sighed at the feeling of his finger in you. Encouraging, you pushed your panties to the side allowing him greater access.

Bryan slipped another finger inside of you, his tempo quickening. You began moving against his hand, mewling as he continued his ministrations. His fingers pumped in and out of you faster and faster. You cried out in pleasure. Bryan slowed his momentum before removing his fingers completely. You whimpered in protest and Bryan made a big show of sucking on his fingers. “You are delicious.” Bryan commented and you blushed in response.

Leaning over, he grabbed a pillow and encouraged you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you. You spread your legs wantonly and unabashedly. Nipping your thighs, Bryan nestled in between your legs, his tongue in your folds, licking you and swirling his tongue on your swollen clitoris. You groaned, and your hands lost themselves in his dark hair, trying to keep him in place. The added feel of his beard along your sensitive skin only heightened your pleasure.

Bryan hummed in agreement and the vibrations sent shockwaves up your body. You arched your back as his tongue flicked on your clitoris as he slipped two fingers back in, all the way deep to the knuckle. Ignoring your aching ankle, your hips rose to meet the thrusts of his fingers. A third finger slipped inside, stretching you.

“Oh shit! Bryan!”

“That’s right, take it.” Bryan whispered. His thumb rubbed your clitoris haphazardly. You like getting fucked by my hand?”

“Yes, fuck, give it to me!” Your legs were shaking. “I am going to cum.” You groaned.

“Not yet.” Bryan grunted. He withdrew his hand and you whined at the lost contact. “Do you have any lube?”

You looked up at him, curious. “Uh, top drawer. Condoms in there too.”

Bryan winked at you and moved off your bed. As he rummaged through your drawer, you eyed the tent in his pants hungrily.

Bryan removed his shirt, leaving his jeans on. Seeing his thick body, with his dusty rose nipples and smattering of chest hair – he was even more hot than you could have imagined. He spread your legs again and dipped his head once more tasting you. You watched as he drizzled lube along your folds and then over his hand. He tucked his thumb into his palm, tapering his fingers and then slowly penetrated you until his entire hand was inside of you.

You let out a sound that was akin to animalistic howl. “Holy shit, holy shit, oh my God!” Bryan began rock his hand back and forth, fucking you with his fist. You felt so full and all you could think – or even say was more, more, more!

“Cum for me,” Bryan growled, his fingers finding that sweet spot that no one else ever had. You sobbed in pleasure and he dipped his head back between your legs and flicked his tongue against your clit. You came hard, shouting his name, grabbing the sheets haphazardly. Bryan continued to pump in and out of you, while looking up at you. A smirk graced his face, and he stroked that sweet spot once more. Your lungs burned as you gasped for air, feeling tremendous pressure and then release as you squirted all over Bryan’s face. Bryan lapped at you through your orgasm until it subsided. Slowly he removed his fist. Moving back up to you, he pushed his fingers into your mouth. “Suck” he ordered. You sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself.

You nipped Bryan’s fingers playfully and he chuckled, removing them. He pressed a kiss on your lips. “Feeling better?”

“Mmmm much,” you replied grinning. Pushing Bryan gently back onto the bed, you climbed onto him. “But I do think more TLC is in order,” you replied taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. “Up to the challenge, Mr. Kneef?”

Bryan winked. “I think I like my odds.”

FIN.

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @bisexual-dreamer02 @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @teamsladsandgents

#bryan kneef smut #bryan kneef x reader #Bryan kneef imagine #brian kneef x reader #brian kneef x you #thatesqcrush holiday bingo

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jemmahazelnut · 3 years ago

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Motorcycle flight - Chapter one

Summary: Laxus is a biker, and as soon as he discovers that in the city there's a motorcycle track for enthusiasts where races are organized every month, he decides to go. As soon as he arrives, he will fall in love with that wonderful place, and will meet the handsome green-haired owner. [Freed/Laxus]

Link: AO3

This is my first mini-long of five chapters, I hope someone likes it. If you like let me know what you think with a comment. Enjoy the reading :)

P.S. English is not my first language, so certainly there are many mistakes that I don't even realize. So, I accept constructive criticism on how I can improve.

Chapter one, The motorcycle track

“Go Gajeel, go!” Lucy yelled from the stands of the Raijinshuu track. Cana next to her was drinking a beer and had her gaze was fixed on the competition, but at the name that her friend spoke she looked up confused.

“I thought you bet on Natsu,” she commented.

“No, last time I lost 20,000 jewels because of him. Gajeel will win, I'm sure,” the blonde said with her hands clasped on the railing and her eyes fixed on the competition. Cana didn’t object and turned to the track again, noting how there was a nice stalemate. Damn, that big blonde she had met a few nights before had told her he was going to win, she hoped she wasn't wrong to bet on him.

“Who did you bet on?” asked Mirajane next to her, who wasn't competing because her bike was currently at the mechanic.

“You'll see it,” said the brunette, narrowing her eyes and watching the blue bike pass Gajeel's. It was the last lap, in a few seconds the race would be over. She felt the tension in her arms as she hoped she hadn't lost her money. The bike made the last corner, a moment later straightened up and crossed the line. Cana jumped to her feet in exultation, while Lucy beside her took her head in her hands.

“Yeah! Fuck yeah! Yeahhhh!” Cana exulted, almost breaking the eardrums of the two girls next to her. Mirajane leaned over the railing to see who had won, sure she had never seen that bike there before. And actually, as soon as the other bikes reached the finish line and the race was finally over, the winner took off his helmet revealing a blond-haired man.

“Who is he?” she asked.

“My savior!” Cana shouted enthusiastically “I’ve won 100,000 jewels!” she screamed still excited as never before, she frantically printed a kiss on Mira's lips and then ran down the steps with the bottle of beer still in her hand that spilled everything everywhere. Mirajane watched dazedly as the girl entered the track and ran towards the blonde. “That was great!” she screamed loudly.

Laxus as soon as he heard that voice turned to the girl, still excited for his victory with a grin on his face. He saw Cana running towards him as she passed the other motorcyclists.

“You won!”.

“She’s more excited than me” Laxus thought and the grin widened. Oh yes, he was really satisfied. It was the first time he had competed on that fantastic track, and he had already made it clear to everyone who would be the next top rider for that year. It was thanks to that girl that he had discovered the place, and he really couldn’t but be happier. He didn't even know there was such a club when he moved to Magnolia, and when he went to the Raijinshuu Motorcycle Track for the first time and saw the races as a spectator, he immediately fell in love with that place.

In addition to the fantastic track, there was the nearby bar frequented only by motorcyclists or motorcycle enthusiasts. The beer was good and they made great sandwiches well filled the way he liked it. It would become his second home, he already knew it. In addition, he had also discovered that there was a mechanical workshop not far from there, and even if Laxus had already found a job and an apartment on the other side of the city, he would have been damned if he hadn’t at least taken a look. The ideal would have been to work nearby, but he had time to think about it. Meanwhile, he could enjoy his victories which, he was already sure, would be many.

“I told you to bet on me” was his arrogant reply as he ran a hand through his hair and Cana laughed.

“I'll buy you a beer, you definitely deserve it!” she exclaimed enthusiastically and then waved her arms to attract the attention of the two girls still on the bleachers. As Mirajane looked at her in perplexity, Lucy was about to cry over the money she had just lost.

“Okay,” the blond said as he set off with his bike towards the exit of the track. He certainly wouldn't have turned down a free beer. A few motorcyclists joined him, someone to compliment him, someone to find out who he was, since no one seemed to know him. And indeed, it was, Laxus had been to see the races only twice before deciding to register, so it was logical that no one remembered his face. A pink-haired boy was enthusiastic and kept asking him for life, death and miracles, too bad that Laxus didn't have time to answer because the boy kept talking and laughing like a machine.

“Next time I'll beat you!”.

“You’ve to beat me first,” retorted a biker full of piercings, and Laxus grinned but didn't answer, as a lot of people, boys and girls craned their necks to see who was that blond-haired stranger who had beaten their strongest bikers.

***

Freed kept tapping his pen nervously on the table, while he read the papers that the lawyer had just sent him. He was nervous, especially after his father had called him. Freed regretted having answered him, because hearing him had worsened his mood even more, and he really didn't believe it was possible given how he got up that morning. With bad news and a war on the way. But if his father believed that he would give up and that he would close the Raijinshuu, he was very wrong. He felt the phone vibrate and with pursed lips looked at who it was: his mother. Even more nervous he closed the call without even answering her. Maybe he should have blocked his parents directly so they wouldn't call him again.

A glass was placed in front of his eyes and Freed looked at Evergreen, who had just brought him a beer.

“You know, soon the race will be over and you’ll find yourself surrounded by a lot of people who just want to celebrate. Time to put the papers away,” she said plainly as she pushed the glass of beer towards him. Freed looked down at the reddish liquid and sighed wearily. He knew his friend was right, but he couldn't really feel comfortable.

“I have to finish seeing...”.

“Freed, everything’s in order. Your father can't do anything to get you shut down, you know that better than anyone,” she reminded him. Freed was silent for a moment and then shook his head.

“He’ll find something, he always does” he retorted irritably “And there are a lot of checks next week, tomorrow the ones on food, Thursday those on the safety of the track, then they’ll check the stands, then...”.

“Freed, look, checking those cards won't change anything anyway. And for today you should just relax,” Evergreen insisted and pushed the glass even more towards him. “Come on, now drink and close those files,” she ordered. Freed sighed but didn’t reply, knowing full well that her friend could become really stubborn. He put the papers away and then leaned back in the chair, taking the glass and trying to free himself from the thoughts that were making him nervous.

“Damn, the blondie really won!” Bickslow suddenly exclaimed from behind the counter. More than making beers, however, he was watching the race in progress on the television. Not that it was a problem, at the moment all the customers were out enjoying the race.

“Then he wasn't lying when he said he was going to win,” Evergreen commented in surprise looking up at the TV. Freed kept thinking about his father, those checks and the fact that he should call him back, sooner or later. He couldn't ignore him indefinitely, even though he’d have preferred to do so.

“Listen Freed, how about buying a bigger TV? It's unfair that we’ve to settle for a tiny screen when the people out there can enjoy the race properly,” Bickslow said, rousing him from his thoughts.

“Seems to be just fine to me,” he objected.

“I assure you it doesn't,” the bartender retorted with conviction. “In any case, people are coming. Ever, move your ass. I'm not going to do the work all by myself now that the crowd’s coming,” he said.

“But if I do everything myself” objected the girl going back behind the counter. Freed smiled slightly, thinking it would probably be useful to have another bartender. A little later people started coming in and Freed thanked that he was already seated with his beer so he didn't have to queue among all those people. Not that he should have done it anyway, since he was the boss of that place and at best, he would have taken it on his own.

A couple of guys greeted him and Freed smiled at them with a brief wave of his hand, until an angry blonde came to him. As soon as Lucy was in front of him, she slammed a hand on the table in irritation.

“You must prevent Cana from setting foot in here for the rest of the year,” she snapped. Freed raised an eyebrow, he was about to ask why but it wasn’t necessary, because the girl continued to speak. “It's not fair that she wins every bet, every time. Every most holy time. How is it possible? And why am I always losing? I was hoping to get back what I lost the last few times, but instead I find myself with 20,000 jewels less, and they all went into Cana’s hands!” she exclaimed irritably.

“Have you ever considered the idea of not placing bets anymore?” Freed asked.

“Of course not, it's a matter of principle,” Lucy objected. “And the worst part is that she keeps throwing it at me, you should throw her out. Oh, here she comes,” she moaned.

“Two great beers for the winners!” screamed the brunette as soon as she walked into the club. Freed found himself giggling as Lucy moaned over the lost money.

“I'm sorry Lucy, if it were someone else, I could consider the idea, but Cana makes me earn a lot” he said and the blonde moaned again but resigned she sat down in front of him, taking her head in her hands.

“At least offer me the beer for consolation,” she pleaded. Freed giggled again but took pity on her and stood up. Since Evergreen and Bickslow were already quite busy with all the people who had entered, he went after the counter and got by on his own.

“Lucy lost a bet?” Bickslow guessed as he placed sandwiches to warm.

“Apparently,” Freed replied filling his glass and glancing at the mass of people who had entered. “Who’s the winner?” he asked curiously.

“The blond next to Gajeel,” he replied, nodding his head to the table where the two boys were sitting. Freed followed his gaze and paused a moment longer to observe the handsome boy with broad shoulders and blond hair. He had never seen him there, and he knew all the boys who frequented that place. Well, that meant he'd have one more client, he had nothing to complain about.

As Bickslow walked away to the other side of the counter, Freed turned and took a small saucer filling it with chips. If he was going to console Lucy, he would do it right, and then he was starting to feel a bit hungry. Nobody disturbed him until he heard a low voice behind him.

“Hey, can you make me a beer?”

Freed turned surprised and noticed that it was the blond who had won the race. Now that he was closer, Freed could observe him better, and if already from a distance he had considered him handsome, now he couldn’t help but confirm his initial thoughts and also consider him fascinating. Piercing eyes of intense blue, a dark shirt that fit him perfectly and a smirk on his face. Normally Freed would have called Bickslow or Evergreen to serve him, but ultimately that guy would have been a new customer, better keep him good.

“What you want?” he asked with a slight smile. Laxus scanned the menu on the wall behind Freed and then picked one. Freed hurried to give it to him. “Winner of the day, right?” he asked and the blond smiled broadly, obviously pleased.

“I'll probably be the winner for the next few months,” he commented arrogantly and Freed found himself giggling as he put the glass down on the counter.

“Well, for today the bar offers the winner, but don't get used to it,” he told with an amused smile. The blonde laughed and thanked him, taking the glass and walking away from the counter to sit next to Gajeel. Eh, a new client was still a new client, and if in that case he was handsome, tall and with a nice ass, then Freed just had one more reason to hold him tight.

***

Laxus walked through the doors of what had become his favorite club and walked over to the counter and Bickslow. It had been a while now that he frequented that place, and as he had thought from the first time he had set foot in it, it was becoming his second home. It was normal for someone who loved motorcycles like him to be comfortable in such a place. The people who frequented it were all easygoing, the beer was good, he could ride the track and drool behind bikes that he could never afford.

Not that Laxus complained about his little gem, he loved his bike and if and when he decided to change it, his heart would cry, given how fond he was of it. But every now and then even rich people came to that place just to show off their vehicles and, well, gazing with the eyes was allowed.

He was in a particularly good mood that day. All thanks to a scratch card that he had taken to try his luck and which had made him win 700 jewels. It was little money since he would pay a dinner at most, but it was enough to put Laxus in a good mood. And since luck seemed to be running that day, he hoped to be able to ride a bike even though he knew the track was closing at that time.

“Beer?” Bickslow asked.

“Nah, I want to go for a ride on the track first,” Laxus said. Bickslow glanced at the clock.

“I'm sorry, I just can't leave you at this time,” he replied. Laxus snorted lightly. Well, he tried.

“Don't worry, get me a beer then”.

Bickslow gave it to him and Laxus sat down at the counter. Of all the guys who were there, he got along particularly well with that strange blue-haired bartender, despite the fact that he was a talkative type. Right from the start he had introduced him to the top bikers, and he had gossip about everyone. One of his favorites was Evergreen, the other bartender in the place. Apparently, the girl had some kind of friendly relationship with benefits with one of the bikers. Speaking of which, the aforementioned biker was right there chatting with the brunette while he ate a sandwich. Bickslow grinned amused, glancing at his friend, who in response glared at him.

“When can I sign up for the next race?” Laxus asked as he looked around the bar, but at that time there was hardly anyone. Lucy and Natsu were sitting dining at a small table in the corner, but luckily the pink-haired boy hadn't noticed him. He had this crazy mania to challenge anyone and after a while Laxus was annoyed at hearing his voice.

“Next week registration will be open” replied Bickslow “Are you sure you don't want to eat something?” he then asked. Laxus at that point decided to eat a nice sandwich there and also ordered some French fries. He spent an hour there having dinner and chatting with Bickslow. Since there were not too many customers, the bartender could keep him company. Once he finished Laxus paid and greeted him, nodded to Evergreen who was still arguing with her friend, and left the club.

He walked towards his bike but as he passed in front of the track something caught his attention. A boy was entering, and Laxus had already seen him. He was that long green-haired bartender who had offered him beer on his victory day. Looking at the vehicle he was taking into the track, Laxus noticed that he had a beautiful motorcycle, a lady motorcycle. Damn, he must have been rich. That was a bike that Laxus would jump through hoops, one of the latest releases. He didn't know if the reason he stopped was the handsome bartender, the beautiful bike or the fact that the boy was entering the track when clearly Bickslow had told him it was closed at that time, but Laxus did.

“Hey, is it an employee benefit to enter the track even at these times?” he asked. The boy turned to him clearly surprised and for a moment looked at him in silence blinking confused.

“Excuses me?” he asked. Laxus smiled slightly and took a couple of steps closer.

“Bickslow told me the track is closed at this time. I'd like to take a ride too,” he explained. The boy smiled slightly, finally understanding what he meant.

“Well, Bickslow actually told you right. The track is closed at this time, no one can enter” he said in a calm voice.

“Well, apparently you do,” he replied.

“It would be weird if I couldn't, since I'm the owner,” the boy chuckled and it was Laxus' time to be stunned. He must have had an eloquent expression on his face because the motorcyclist laughed slightly. “Freed, nice to meet you,” he said extending his hand. Laxus held his still a little stunned.

“Laxus,” he just said. He had thought he was just a bartender, on the other hand it was he who served him without batting an eye the first time he had been there. “Are you… really the owner of this place?” he asked still surprised. He was young for having opened such a place, probably a few years younger than him. How the hell had he done it?

“Yeah,” Freed replied simply. “Actually, I thought Bickslow with that wide mouth told you,” he added. Laxus recovered and laughed lightly.

“He told me life, death and miracles of everyone but he didn't say anything about... no, he actually said something, but I didn't know you were Freed,” he recalled at that point, frowning.

“I hope he didn't badmouth about me,” Freed joked.

“Nah,” Laxus replied with a smile. “He just complained that he wants a bigger television,” he said with a shrug. Freed rolled his eyes.

“I had to figure it out,” he commented. Laxus stopped for a moment to look at him, from the first time he had seen him he had found him attractive but he hadn't given it too much weight. There were many attractive men, yet now that he knew he was the boss of that place he felt a little in awe. Which didn't happen often. But knowing that such a young boy had opened such a place was strange, and he honestly didn't know what to think of that boy.

“So, you wanted to ride a motorcycle, right? How about a challenge?” Freed asked suddenly. Laxus frowned.

“Do you want to challenge now?” he asked fearing he hadn't understood correctly. He understood that at that time no one could enter the track. Well, Freed on the other hand was the boss, he could probably do what he wanted there.

“Of course, after how sure you were to win all the races, I really want to see if it was luck or skill” Freed instigated him with a smirk. Laxus partly out of pride, partly because he really wanted to ride the motorcycle, he found his grin again.

“Okay,” he said. Freed smiled in response and entered the track, while Laxus went to get his bike and then join him. Eh, luck that day turned just in favor of him.

***

Laxus stopped with the bike still enthusiastic about the ride he had done. Damn, it had been liberating and even challenging. Even if he had lost. He didn't expect it, but at least he could justify himself by saying it was only thanks to Freed's bike. And so he did when the boy brought up the victory.

“I would have been surprised, given the bike you ride,” he then commented. Freed raised an eyebrow with a pleased and amused grin on his face.

“Are you trying to find justifications for not admitting that you were beaten fairly?” he asked.

“At all. But your bike’s more powerful than mine, there's little to do,” Laxus said with a shrug. Freed shook his head in resignation.

“I should really race with another bike so as to prove otherwise,” he commented in a low voice, more to himself than to Laxus. The blond gave him a curious look, they hadn't talked much, only competed, and he was starting to be really curious to know more about him. Like he had the idea of opening such a place, a real paradise for Laxus. “Would you like to get a beer? Since you lost you owe me one,” Freed said. Laxus looked at him at the same time surprised but also a little amused.

“Really?” he asked him in a half laugh “Are you the boss of this place and Ishould buy you a beer?” he asked. Freed smiled.

“Well, considering that the last time I offered it to you, I'd say it's not that strange. But if you want, we can do another race and I’ll use a bike with the exact same power as yours, and if I win, you’ll offer me the whole dinner” he said.

“Only if you promise to give me a bike when I win,” Laxus said with a grin. Freed raised his eyebrows but smiled.

“Gone,” he replied and Laxus chuckled, following the boy to the bar. The two entered and went to the counter. Bickslow looked at them in surprise.

“Laxus, still here?” he asked.

“Yes, in the end I did the lap around the track as I wanted. He let me,” he said pointing to Freed.

“Don't tell me you made a challenge,” Bickslow commented as if he were expecting it, as if it were normal. Laxus would have lied to say that he was not left in a bit of bad. That meant that Freed often did it with other clients.

“Yes, and I won. Not that I'm surprised,” Freed said as he sat down in the chair. Bickslow rolled his eyes.

“Sooner or later someone will beat you and I'll make you remember it forever,” the bartender said. Freed smiled.

“The person who will beat me on my track has not yet been born,” he retorted arrogantly. Laxus would have smiled at his conceit, but something caught his attention.

“Wait, you’ve never been beaten by anyone?” he asked surprised.

“No,” Freed smiled smugly. “Since I opened this place, I’m the absolute champion, which means that I haven't lost a single race in four years,” he said.

“Yes, and you’re also unbearable,” Evergreen interjected annoyed.

“I agree,” Bickslow said. “And when somebody beats you, I'll throw a huge party and I'll put up posters with a giant picture of your pissed face and place it for all the bleachers.” Freed smiled.

“I doubt that will ever happen, but if you do, I'll make sure I fire you first,” he said. Laxus didn't know if he was joking or not, but Bickslow didn't seem in the least affected by the threat.

“I hoped you beat him,” the bartender told Laxus.

“Well, we still have to have a fair competition,” the blond pointed out. Freed nodded.

“Right. I just want to see how you justify yourself when I beat you,” he said.

“It won't be necessary, because you won't win.”

“We all cheer for you, Laxus,” Bickslow said and Evergreen nodded vigorously.

“If you win, we will offer you beer for a whole week,” said the serious girl.

“What great friends,” Freed said sarcastically. “So, can we have two beers or do we have to stay here and talk with nothing to drink?” he asked. Bickslow turned and prepared both glasses while Freed asked Ever for a toast to eat. In a short time Laxus found himself again with a glass under his nose and in the company of three boys who dragged him into a pleasant and fun conversation.

#fraxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #freed x laxus #fanfiction

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katie-writes24 · 4 years ago

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Cursed Blessings - Chpt.2

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: Language, angst, suggestive material, misunderstandings and bad researched background of job titles.

Chpt. 1 ~ Chpt.3

Wow, I don't like how I wrote this part at all. But bare with me, I swear we’re getting somewhere...eventually. The plot line is there, it’s just...coming together slowly. I hope yall will continue to read this series, if you could call it that? So yeah, I apologize for the rusty chapter. Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Enjoy!

Three years later

Flying made him nervous. It was just a big box floating in the air, and it was unsettling to think there was nothing but clouds around him.

The stewardess was shooting him concerning looks as Thomas kept ordering alcohol. He doesn’t blame her, but it wasn’t like he was going to become a loose drunk, especially not when he’s so anxious to get on the ground.

New York was not his favorite place to be, especially not in the winter. Bustling traffic, tourists looking for a white Christmas, and Thomas was just trying to keep this branch under control. Washington said that they were still new, that the office needed someone who was ‘experienced.’

As if the years of keeping his office door shut, retorting quickly, and even making an employee cry was considered “experienced.”

Maybe he’s been a little more preoccupied with work than usual, but it’s been busy. There was a lot to do, always time to work. Call him a workaholic, but you could never call him lazy. Thomas was productive when it came to his job, never one to let anyone else step over how much dedication he put into his work.

But this is where he’d stay for now at least. His temporary penthouse was near a bar and a coffee shop, which he figured he would be spending a lot of time at both. As soon as he landed, he got a cab and moved his stuff in. Two hours later after a visit to the store, he was on the couch in his pajamas, eating and watching terrible tv dramas.

And that was pretty much the next two days. New York was just like any other city he’s visited, it was nothing special. He was perfectly fine with lounging around until he needed to go in for work.

That was until he ran out of his basic necessities, and was forced to throw on pants to go outside. There wasn’t a supermarket far from his place, and given it was late on a Sunday night, it was pretty quiet.

Thomas roamed the aisles slowly, and thought about how exhausting the next couple of months were going to be. He wasn’t one to volunteer to practically train an entire office floor, neither was he sure that he could do it patiently. Hence he had an enclosed office back in Virginia where he could keep to himself. If the workers back home could barely do their job, surely these people couldn’t either.

Lost in his thoughts, he turned the corner and almost knocked over a small child. His hand automatically reached out to stop her from falling. But she just looked up at him with wide eyes and smiled as if he didn’t almost run her over. Thomas was about to walk around, but she held her hand up, showing off a small rocket.

Thomas slowly took the toy from her, gesturing towards it and shrugging. “Very nice.”

She grinned at his approval, and Thomas didn’t even know if she could understand him.

There was a loud shout behind him, and before he could turn around-

“Sorry, she just got out of my sight for a second.”

Well, Thomas could recognize that voice anywhere.

Y/N still looked the same, but her hair was a bit shorter now. Those sharp eyes always made him catch his breath. But how she looked at him now, Thomas didn’t know what to think.

“Hi.”

They just stared at each other for what felt like hours. He didn’t mind it, because he didn’t know what he was going to say if he pulled his eyes away. However, there was some babbling and then something hit his leg. Thomas completely forgot about the toddler at his feet.

“Sorry,” Y/N walked around him and picked her up. And he could see it now.

The matching eyes, except hers were much brighter. They have the same mole just below their jaw, and their noses have the same little curve.

And how could he miss those curls?

His heart caught in his throat.

“She’s pretty fast...I can’t keep up with her sometimes,” Y/N sighs as she avoids his eyes.

“It’s fine…” Thomas can’t take his eyes off her.

“You’re staring?”

He blinked and looked between the two. Clearing his throat, he couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “You have a daughter.”

Perhaps he said it too excitedly, but Y/N looked almost sad. Like she didn’t have a gift, that they didn’t have a gift. Something Thomas only dreamed about when they were together.

“I do...” Y/N brushed her daughter’s hair back. It looked so domestic, so loving, Thomas almost reached out and did the same.

“What...uh, what’s her nam-”

“Thomas, why are you in New York?”

Right, Thomas wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be going to this branch, he wasn’t supposed to fly in on a Friday and he wasn’t supposed to be at the store right now. He shouldn’t be so giddy about this discovery.

“For work. I, uh, I have to visit a new branch in the city tomorrow.”

She nodded slowly, almost as if she was trying to sense if he was telling the truth.

“What about you? What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

That was understandable; it’s a big city, he knew that she had some friends from college living in the city. Thomas also knew why she would want to get out of Virginia, out of the town.

“Cora.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Her name...it’s Cora,” Y/N didn’t look at him, instead looking at her daughter like she was the entire world. She now had her head tucked into Y/N’s neck and staring at him with tired eyes.

As Thomas repeated her name, the air seemed to thicken with tension. He had so many questions, he just wanted to know what Y/N was up to now, how this happened, when it happened? But he couldn’t ask in the middle of an aisle at the store.

“Do you think we could sit down somewhere? Maybe grab a coffee or something?”

“I, uh...I don’t think that’s a good idea, Thomas.” Her grip tightened on her shopping basket as her eyes grew wide.

“Wait, Y/N, please-”

“I gotta go.” And just like that, Thomas lost her again. The only thing remaining was the toy rocket in his hand.

~~~

“You’re back! You won’t believe the shit I just heard.”

Y/N put Cora down and watched her waddle towards the kitchen. She had been crying the whole car ride home; after an entire car search, Y/N couldn’t find her toy and she wasn’t going to go back to the store to see if she left it.

Y/N couldn’t let herself do that.

“Yeah, well you won’t believe what just happened either.”

Closing the door, she followed her daughter inside and set the bags down. She walked in to see her sitting on the counter, a popsicle already in her hand.

“Dude, seriously?” Y/N put a hand to her hip. “I was just about to start dinner.”

“Relax, she’s fine.” A hand swept through her hair as Y/N tried to stop the sticky mess running down Cora’s arm. “As I was saying, do you believe some stuck up southerner is going to sit in as management tomorrow? You believe that? As if he can waltz right in and make some changes. Who does he think he is?”

“I think you’re being a bit dramatic,” The amount of stories that Y/N had heard the last months of idiotic lawyers and disobedient clients were a bit overreacted.

“Believe me, I would never over exaggerate anything when it comes to my job.”

It made Y/N pause, for a second she even thought Cora could understand how ridiculous it sounded.

“Anyways, there is no way that I’m going to sit back and let him take over,” She was sure that her of course you won’t comment was ignored. “But I don’t know how it will affect my schedule.”

“Don’t stress, I’ll find someone to watch Cora when I’m out.”

“You know I would but-”

“It’s fine, Alexander.”

The man straightened at her tone, but nodded nevertheless. He moved around the counter to the fridge. “So, what was it you were going to say?”

Right.

“You won’t believe who I just saw…”

Alexander turned, wide eyed and careful to note her far off look. It could have been a list of people; there had been lots of promising moments ever since Y/N came to New York, lots of friends made, lots of sites seen. However, there were also a lot of complications, lots of threatening emails sent, lots of pressure she was under.

And as her whole mood seemed to stutter into a daze, Alexander could connect the dots easily.

After all, it was the same look she had months into her pregnancy. Months after she left. Months after she stopped getting phone calls. Months after she stopped caring about him.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

Jefferson Taglist: @notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @astralaffairs @daveeddiggsit @ramp-it-up @ohsoverykeri-blog @i-know-i-can @tinywhim

#thomas jefferson x reader #thomas Jefferson x oc #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson #hamilton fic #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #thomas jefferson fanfic #cursed blessings #my writings #was it meant to be a plottwist at the end? yes #did it happen? i doubt it

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dragoqueen · 4 years ago

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Whoops! Wrong Way 3/8

Summary: Peter has been living at Avengers Tower for 2 years, known to the workers and Avengers as Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers. When his teacher announces that they're going on a field trip to Avengers Tower, or SI, he's going to have to attempt to survive a day of embarrassment and keeping a secret identity.

Words: 2023

And here it was, the day of his death. The day of his misery. The day all his worst nightmares would come true. Friday... the field trip.

He had done all he could to convince each and every avenger to not mess with him. He got positive answers from Bruce, Steve, and Thor. However, he was going to have to deal with the rest in any way he could. He had tried to figure out their plan, knowing that they stayed up at night to plan his demise. However, he couldn't figure out a single thing. He had the bright idea to try and figure out what they were doing when he arrived by asking FRIDAY but until then he was doomed.

Tony woke him up an extra 30 minutes earlier than he usually did, not wanting Peter to be late for the field trip. The only good thing he had gotten out of it was that Bucky and Steve had gotten up early too to cook him a smorgasbord of food. He quickly scarfed down enough food to last him the beginning of the day before changing into his outfit and meeting Happy downstairs to get a ride to school.

Somehow, despite getting up early and getting a ride with Happy instead of walking, he was almost late. Almost. He made sure to spend extra long eating his food in hope that he would miss the bus and the school would just make him attend normal classes. Unfortunately, he was just in time to get on the bus and clamber to the back where Ned and MJ were sitting. Sadly, Flash wasn't too far from them either which made the ride to the tower, which he had planned on spending sulking and dying inside, worse.

Flash spent the entirety of the bus ride making jokes of Peter and insulting him. Most of them were intern-related, reminding Peter how he "didn't have an actual internship at Stark Industries" and "wasn't even smart enough to get an internship even at McDonalds". Luckily, before Peter knew it, they had arrived at the tower and the teacher was trying to keep them quiet so he could go check them in and make sure everything was ready.

Then, he got them out of the bus and lined them up in the lobby of the tower for their tour guide to explain the rules to them and hand out their badges. "Alright everyone. I'm Mars and I'm going to be your tour guide today. First, I know you all signed NDA's so please remember anything that happens in this tower that could be secretive you will be forced not to tell anyone or risk getting sued and, let me tell you, we have some very good lawyers. Speaking of the NDA, we are also going to have to confiscate your phones so we don't have you taking pictures or recording things. So I'm going to come by and hold out a basket I expect you to all place your phones in." Mars began walking down the row of children, having them all drop their phones in. when he got to the back where Ned, Peter, and MJ were, he just smiled at them and walked away, having already recognized them and knew that they were authorized to have their phones. Then, he returned to the front of the line where he placed the basket on the counter of the security desk and resumed his place at the front of the line.

"Now, first up on our tour is the Avengers museum. There are all of the first, fails, and worthy achievements of the Avengers. Everything from suits to fun facts can be found there. You will have 45 minutes to wander around before we head up to the intern labs so no dilly-dallying. However, first you're going to have to go through these scanners and scan your badge. For example..." Mars walks to the metal archway and scans his lanyard on the scanner before stepping through. The voice of FRIDAY spooks everyone except for Mars, Peter, MJ, and Ned, "Mars Bars, level 4, access limited."

"What the heck was that?" Cindy asks.

"That was FRIDAY. She's an AI that Tony built, she basically runs this building. But, back on track. Who's next?"

"Me!" Flash shouts, pushing his way to the front and scanning his lanyard before walking through, smug and confident that he was first.

"Eugene Thompson, Level 1, access very limited."

Flash smirks at his name being said by something that Tony Stark created. He walks forward to stand next to Mars while his next classmate goes. One by one, each of the students scan and walk through for Friday to announce their name and the same level and access type. Up until it was MJ's turn. She did the same as all of her other classmates, scanning her lanyard and then stepping through the metal archway but this time FRIDAY announces, "Michelle Jones, "Boss Girl" level 9, full access. Should I alert Scary Girl or Ms. Potts of your arrival?"

"No, that's okay FRIDAY. I'm on a field trip."

"Okay, have a good time." FRIDAY responds, causing everyone to stare at MJ in surprise. She just smirked before returning to her normal glare and stepped into the cluster of kids. Next was Ned, "Ned Leeds, "that one annoying hacker kid" level 9, full access. Shall I alert Science Bro #2 of your arrival?"

"No, FRIDAY. Bruce knows I'm on a field trip. Thanks though."

"Enjoy your time." FRIDAY answers.

Same procedure. The entire class stares at Ned in wonder and confusion. He blushes in response to the sudden attention and takes his spot in the cluster next to MJ. Last in line was Peter. He had been fearing this moment, knowing that he had the highest level in the tower, next to the other Avengers. Plus his nickname from Tony and Clint was sure to cause some questions to arise. However, dutifully, he stepped up and scanned his lanyard and stepped through. "Peter Parker, "Mini-Stark" level 10, full access. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark of your arrival?"

"No! I mean... no that's alright FRIDAY. He probably knows I'm here anyways."

"Enjoy your trip, Peter."

He inwardly groans at the fact that she called him Mini-Stark, but was happy she had called him Peter Parker, rather than Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers. Tony must have cared somewhat of Peter's confidentiality if he changed that. He ignores the stares from his classmates and the smirk from Mars as he joins MJ and Ned in the middle of the group. "Alright, continuing with the tour if you will all join me in this elevator we will go up to the Avengers museum,"

While they all walk over to the elevator and begin piling into the cramped space. When Peter's in, Mars asks FRIDAY to take them up to the 12th floor where the Avengers museum was. Flash leans over and whispers into Peter's ear, "hey, Penis, how'd you manage to hack the AI to make it seem like you and your nerd friends have such a high access? We all know you're lying so just give up." Peter sighs and doesn't say anything, opting to move out of reach of Flash so that MJ is blocking them.

A/N:

For the sake of my sanity let's assume it's a big and strong elevator that holds all like 25-30 of his class okay? Thanks y'all

The door opens to the museum and the class spills out and begins exploring all of the corners of the museum. Each section was dedicated to a specific Avenger. The kids who wanted a more in depth explanation of things stayed by Mars who was walking around and giving his little "tour guide spiel" about the museum. Peter, MJ, and Ned, who had already explored the museum many times, walked around leisurely to explore different things that appeared to have been updated since the last time they were here.

At one point, Ned dragged Peter excitedly to a new section where Tony had added in a Spider-Man section. Peter observed the information happily...

" 1. Spider-Man prefers hanging from the wall than standing on the floor

2. Spider-Man's favorite snack is gummies.

3. Spider-Man is deathly afraid of spiders. "

"Dude, you're afraid of spiders? How?"

"First of all, shut it. Second, just because I have spider-like powers doesn't mean I like the creature. They're freaky."

Ned just laughs and continues to explore the exhibit. Peter looks over the things and makes a mental note to thank his dads later. The things included in it were incredible, a plaque with the phrase, "with great power comes great responsibility." And referencing his Uncle Ben. His first suit was also in a display case along with some of his old web fluid and a physical design of his webs that wouldn't disintegrate.

Suddenly, he felt an eerie presence provided by his Spidey Sense. He looked around the room, trying to detect where the threat warning could be coming from. Flash and his goons were all in a different section so it definitely wasn't them. And no one else was really around that could be threatening. Just then, he got a warning that someone was going to be coming out of the vents in 3... 2... 1... he stepped out of the way just in time to watch Clint fall out of the vents and crumple onto the ground. Then he jumps right up as if nothing had happened and smiles at Peter. (A/N: Clint was the imposter)

"Clint what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to embarrass you. But also Bucky made cookies this morning and Morgan threatened to take away my venting privileges if I didn't bring any to you."

"And you got scared of a 6 year old because... why?"

"She's scary. Also she has Wanda and Pepper on her side."

"Ooh, yeah. You'd better watch out for that. But, Bucky made cookies? Gimme."

Clint grins and reaches into his pocket to grab a cookie that's wrapped in a plastic bag. It's a triple chocolate cookie with extra chocolate chunks. The cookie is still warm so Peter can only assume it came out of the oven moments before. He takes a bite into it and it almost melts in his mouth. He lets out a sigh of comfort and tucks the cookie, in the plastic bag, into his pocket.

By this time someone had noticed that The Hawkeye was here and had shouted to the rest of the group. A crowd had gathered around him and were all shouting questions.

"What's your favorite thing about being an Avenger?"

"Whos' the scariest Avenger?"

"How do you know Pen- Peter?"

Peter cringes at the last one. He's sure Clint hears it and his suspicions are only confirmed when Clint's casual smile disappears and he turns to glare at Flash. "What did you call Peter?"

"I- uh.. I called him Peter, sir."

"Is that right? Mmh... you better watch yourself kid. And you'll have time to ask questions at the Q & A at the end of the tour with some of the other Avengers."

"Uh... Q & A? That's not on the list of things to do." Mars comments, having migrated over to where the crowd of kids had formed.

"One of your co-workers will inform you of the change in schedule during lunch. Don't worry, it was pre-approved by Tony."

"Mr. Stark? Oh, well... okay cool. Anyways, I think it's time Mr. Barton has to go. After all, we have to continue on with our tour as our 45 minutes are up. Everyone say bye to him."

A majority of goodbyes are shouted out, along with quite a few phone numbers. Clint gives them a mock salute before jumping back in the vents and crawling off to who knows where. Peter only calms down when his heightened senses are no-longer able to hear Clint clambering through the vents. Mars leads them all into the elevator and the doors slide shut, taking them up to their next destination, the intern labs.

#avengers #domesticavengers #peterparker #irondad #spiderson #spidermom #fieldtripau #spideypool

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spookypalace · 4 years ago

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something borrowed - chapter one

After one drink too many at her 30th-birthday celebration, Jo unexpectedly falls into bed with her longtime crush and best friend, Alex -- who happens to be engaged to her best friend, Izzie. Ramifications of the liaison threaten to destroy the women's lifelong friendship, while Jackson, Jo's confidant, harbors a potentially explosive secret of his own.

—

Or the one where everyone is a little messy but you still root for them anyway.

June 2010

“Oh! Wow, I had no idea! This is amazing.” The small brunette whispers to herself as she paces the dark littered sidewalk of ninth street in the East Village, the wind briskly wafting through her freshly curled hair as her high-heeled clad feet clicked against the gravel. “No, that sounds so obvious,” She continues to mumble to herself, using a manicured finger to flick away the bang which had stuck to the lip-gloss which painted her plump pink lips. With a deep sigh, she threw her hands back to her sides, shaking them furiously as she felt the familiar clammy feeling begin to settle in her palms due to her nervousness.

As her entire body began to heat up, she was thankful that it was the little black dress that had caught her eye earlier that evening whilst she was examining her wardrobe in search of something to wear. It wasn’t a dress she had chosen for herself; short little pieces of clothing had never been her thing—her style was usually casual, ripped jeans and relaxed t-shirts. But her best friend, Izzie Stevens, had picked it out specifically for her during a shopping trip back when they were college freshman. It was Izzie’s style; figure hugging, clinging to every curve and a deep square neckline which showed off her perky assets.

She didn’t believe she had any of that, never had. Her shoulders were a little wider than her hips, her legs much shorter, barely standing at five foot four and her chest substantially lacked what Izzie’s had. With luscious blonde hair which flowed down her back, blinding white teeth and skin smoother than butter, Izzie really was perfect. Izzie was always the lucky one, always had been—since they were in fifth grade. Her skin tanned more quickly, her hair feathered more easily, and she didn't need braces. Her cartwheels were superior, as were her front handsprings (she couldn't do a handspring at all). She had double-pierced ears and the trendiest clothing from her rich and caring parents.

But at least Jo would always be a few months younger than Izzie, six months, and four days to be exact. Izzie, as obsessed with clear and smooth skin as she was, constantly worried about growing old and the aging effects that was brought with old age. Izzie’s age was the one thing that Jo didn’t quite mind never catching up to.

“Oh my god!” Jo plasters a fake wide grin on her face and throws her hands into the air in mock surprise, white teeth illuminating the small corner of the street she continued to pace up and down. She brings her dainty hands to her chest and widens her eyes as not to blink, willing herself not to blink in an effort to fake cry. Something which she was usually very skilled at. But not tonight it seemed.

With a groan, Jo gives up, “I suck!” She shouts into the empty street before sitting down onto the concrete steps which lead up to the apartment building, she was currently having a small breakdown outside of. Huffing, she removes the black heel from her right foot, resting for a moment in hopes she’ll finally calm down.

The feeling Jo currently had reminded her of New Year's Eve when the countdown is coming and she’s not quite sure whether to grab my camera or just live in the moment. New Year’s Eve never goes how you plan. Then you’re left feeling enormously let down and think to yourself that the night would have been more fun if it didn't mean quite so much, if you weren't forced to analyse where you’ve been and where you’re going.

Like New Year's Eve, tonight is an ending and a beginning. She didn't like endings and beginnings. She would always prefer to churn about in the middle. The worst thing about this particular end (of her youth) and beginning (of middle age) is that for the first time in her life, Jo realises that she has no idea where she’s going. Her wants are simple: a job that she enjoys and a guy whom she loves. And on the eve of her thirtieth birthday, Jo had come to the realisation that she wasn’t anywhere near getting what she wanted.

First, she’s an attorney at a large New York firm. By definition this means that she’s miserable. Being a lawyer just isn't what she thought it was cracked up to be—it's nothing like L.A. Law, the show that caused applications to law schools to skyrocket in the early nineties. She works excruciating hours for a mean-spirited, anal-retentive partner, doing mostly tedious tasks, and that sort of hatred for what you do for a living begins to chip away at you. So, Jo had memorised the mantra of the law-firm associate: I hate my job and will quit soon. Just as soon as I pay off my loans. Just as soon as I make next year's bonus. Just as soon as I think of something else to do that will pay the rent. Or find someone who will pay it for me.

Which brings Jo to her second point: she feels desperately alone in a city of millions.

Whilst visually she knows for a fact she’s not alone, because if she were then she wouldn’t currently be stressing out about how to fake shock to all of her friends once she enters the club in which her ‘surprise’ birthday party is being hosted in five minutes. She had friends to summer within the Hamptons, friends to meet on a Thursday night after work for a drink or two or three, friends to gossip with and rant to. And she had Izzie, her best friend from home, who is all of the above.

For a while, friends were all she needed—when you’re in your twenties, settling down with the man of your dreams can wait. There’s still so much living to do when you’re twenty-three and then twenty-seven, but by the time you’re twenty-nine … the cold empty side of your double bed begins to get a little old.

“Right.” Jackson Avery’s voice booms from the now open door which leads to his apartment, shaking Jo from her thoughts of loneliness, “I’m ready, you good?” He asks with a smirk when he notices her perched on his steps, face bored and disinterested.

Big doe eyes, decorated with mascara and dark eyeshadow, glance up at him as her lips turn into a pout involuntarily. “I don’t wanna’ go,” she knows he thinks she sounds like a toddler, she can tell by the way he chuckles and continues to look down at her with raised eyebrows, “I don’t want to be thirty.”

Jackson jogs down the few steps, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket as he does so, until he’s standing directly in front of the small woman. “Come on,” he extends a handout to her, hoping she’ll take it without much of a fight. Jo only pushes her bottom lip out further as she places her foot back into the uncomfortable heel and places her hand into his, groaning as Jackson pulls her up with force. “If it makes you feel any better then honestly, you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

Jo scoffs, letting him lead her towards the club only two streets away from his place, “right.”

She had met Jackson in college, during orientation their freshman year. Whilst they weren’t fast friends, both of them were rather reserved. After a while they began to grow closer; during study sessions and group projects—they always seemed to be on the same page. It wasn’t until they finished college and realised that they were only living a few blocks from one another that they really started to spend time outside of class together, Jackson was always available for a morning coffee or an afternoon stroll during a stressful day.

Izzie had always been adamant that Jackson was crushing hard on Jo, but she never saw it. When it came to men, Izzie had a one-track mind—according to the blonde, no male and female could ever just be friends. She believed this so strongly that she took it upon herself to try and set the pair up during every night out at the bar or weekend lunch. Something which got old and obnoxious on Izzie’s part fast. Due to this, Jo had chosen to keep her friendships with the two fairly separate. Except for the times it was unavoidable, like birthdays and engagement parties and whatnot. Like tonight.

They arrive at the club far too quickly for Jo’s liking, she comes to a stand still once they’re outside, dragging Jackson back by the clasp of their hands as she firmly stays put. He sighs, his eyes subtly giving her the once over now Jo’s directly stood in the bright lights of the nightclub’s neon sign. Jo doesn’t notice, pays no mind to the man in front of her as she thinks about what’s on the other side of that door.

“What’s up?” He asks, frowning with concern, “you love an excuse to get drunk—your thirtieth birthday is as good an excuse as any,”

Jo takes a deep breath, “I told you, I’m getting old.”

“Keep going with that and I’m going to get offended,” he steps closer to her with a smirk, eyes gazing down at hers, “you remember I turned thirty, like, ten months ago, right?”

At Jackson’s comment, a sincere smile finally spreads across Jo’s glossy lips, “barely, I woke up passed out in your bed with a pink wig on and roller skates hanging off my feet.” Jackson’s smirk turns into full-fledged laughter as he recalls the memory.

“If we’re lucky then maybe tonight will end similar.”

Jo’s eyes glimmer as she teases, “no way, I’m thirty tomorrow—it’s socially unacceptable for me to wake up in some random guys bed.”

Jacksons face turns into a mock frown, “random?” As they both continue to laugh with one another, Jo shoves a dainty hand into his chest and walks past him with a bump to his shoulder. Her heels click towards the large black door with the shiny brass handle, pulling it open as she throws an eye roll at him and finally gets over her nerves and steps into the room her friends had piled into to celebrate her birth.

She wasn’t alone, she knows that—she felt that when she stood with Jackson, laughing and smiling so effortlessly.

But she was lonely.

One hour later, once everyone has gotten over how atrociously Jo’s fake shock was, the party is in full swing. People were dancing and laughing and singing along to the sound of Jo and Izzie’s nineties playlist as it blared through the speakers.

She never enjoyed being the centre of attention, which is why she specifically asked Izzie months ago not to throw her any kind of party—before Jackson informed Jo that actually, Izzie had ignored her completely, Jo’s plan was to enjoy a chilled night at their favourite bar. Just Jo, Jackson, Stephanie, Izzie and Alex.

Alex. The one saving grace of this party—his face was the first she spotted when she walked through the club doors, the first voice she heard and the first person who brought a smile onto her face. He’d sent her a wink, one which reminded her of way back when they were barely twenty, and it sent butterflies swirling in her stomach. She won’t lie and say she wasn’t disappointed when Izzie ran through the crowd of people, arms swinging and lips screaming, to engulf Jo into a tight hug, spinning the shorter woman around, and cutting through the moment.

Jo’s current personal situation seems all the more dismal as she sat with her oldest and bestest friend in the corner booth of the club, the blonde had a glamorous PR job and was now freshly engaged. After all this time, Izzie is still the lucky one. Jo watches her, telling a story to the group which had gathered into the booth, including her fiancé.

Alex and Izzie were an exquisite couple, lean and tall with ridiculous good look and great jobs. They are among New York's beautiful people. The well-groomed couple registering for fine china and crystal on the sixth floor at Bloomingdale's. You hate their smugness but can't resist staring at them when you're on the same floor searching for a not-too-expensive gift for the umpteenth wedding you've been invited to without a date. You strain to glimpse her ring and are instantly sorry you did. She catches you staring and gives you a disdainful once-over. You wish you hadn't worn your tennis shoes to Bloomingdale's. She is probably thinking that the footwear may be part of your problem. You buy your Waterford vase and get the hell out of there.

“So, the lesson here is: if you ask for a Brazilian bikini wax, make sure you specify.” Izzie finishes her obscene tale, and the whole group laughs. Except for Alex, who shakes his head, as if to say, what a piece of work my fiancée is. “OK!” Izzie shouts obnoxiously, hands slapping together as she claps, “I’ll be right back, tequila shots for us all!”

Jo watches as she moves away from the group and towards the bar, leaning over the sticky surface to flirt with the young bartender, who she already told Jo she would ‘totally fuck’ if she was still single. As if Izzie would ever be single. She said once in high school, "I don't break up, I trade up." She kept her word on that, and she always did the dumping. Throughout our teenage years, college, and every day of our twenties, she has been attached to someone. Often, she has more than one guy hanging around, hoping.

It occurs to Jo that she could hook up with the bartender. She’s completely and totally unencumbered—hasn't even been on a date in nearly two months, it was an utter disaster and she decided she needed to give herself a break. But it doesn't seem like something one should do at age thirty. One-night stands are for girls in their twenties, and as of tomorrow morning she would no longer be in her twenties.

Plus, she thinks she’d had her fair share of one-night stands and after every single time she always found that she ended up thinking to herself that she was a relationship person. She preferred to know the person, nothing competed with the feeling of being familiar with someone’s body. Knowing exactly how to make them moan, their toes curl, and their skin tingle—that’s what she wanted. And there was the feeling of comfort, being so comfortable that there was no awkwardness and you never felt too shy to try something new. She missed that. She really really missed that.

She hadn’t experienced that since her last boyfriend, two years ago.

“You look great,” Alex whispers into her ear as the rest of the group continue to chatter, his hushed voice breaking Jo out of her sad sad thoughts.

Jo rolls her eyes, tilting her head so it falls against the side of his, “you have to say that I’m your fiancé’s best friend.” As comfortable as the position was, Jo lifts her head up quickly so she can turn to look Alex in the eyes—eyes which were wide, gazing down at her. His lips were parted, as if there was something he wanted to say but as he opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, Jo decides to relieve them of the thick tension and shakes her head with a small girlish girl.

“No, I don’t,” he finally adds, eyes continuing to watch her every movement. The way she picks up her full glass of vodka with dainty hands, the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks and her curls frame her face—small things he’s always noticed.

The tension is cut once Izzie returns with the shots, but Alex refuses his, so Izzie insists that Jo does the two. Before Jo knows it, the night starts to take on that blurry quality, when you cross over from being buzzed to drunk, losing track of time and the precise order of things. Apparently, Izzie had reached that point even sooner because she’s now dancing on the bar. Spinning and gyrating in a little red halter dress and three-inch heels.

"Stealing the show at your party," Stephanie, Jo’s closest friend from work, says under her breath. "She's shameless."

Jo giggles, not really caring—it was something she had come accustomed to. “She’s just a little drunk.” She’s not sure when she became the person who constantly made excused for Izzie’s behaviour, probably way back when they were fifteen … maybe twelve, who knows.

Everyone waits for her next move, which is to swivel her hips in perfect time to the music, bend over slowly, and then whip her body upright again, her long hair spilling every which way. Jo turns her head away from the woman up on the bar to glance at Alex, who in these moments can never quite decide whether to be amused or annoyed. To say that the man has patience is an understatement. Alex and Jo had that in common.

"Happy birthday, Jol!" Izzie yells. "Let's all raise a glass to Jo Wilson!" Which everyone does. Without taking their eyes off the blonde.

A minute later, Alex whisks her down from the bar, slings her over his shoulder, and deposits her on the floor next to Jo in one fluid motion. Clearly, this was something he had done before. "All right," he announces, glancing over to Jo apologetically. "I'm taking our little party-planner home."

Izzie plucks her drink off the bar and stamps her foot. "You're not the boss of me, Alex! Is he, Jo?" As she asserts her independence, she stumbles and sloshes her martini all over Alex's shoe. In usuall circumstances Jo would agree with Izzie—Alex wasn’t the boss of the woman. But at this very moment, as she continues to cause a scene with her temper tantrum, Jo had to agree with him.

Alex grimaces. "You're wasted, Iz. This isn't fun for anyone but you."

"Okay. Okay. I'll go... I'm feeling kind of sick anyway," she says, looking queasy.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jo asks, concern dripping from her voice despite the fact she felt incredibly drunk herself.

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry," she says, now playing the role of brave little sick girl.

Jo thanks her for the party, tells her that it was a total surprise—which is a lie, because she knew Izzie would capitalize on my thirtieth to buy a new outfit, throw a big bash, and invite as many of her friends as Jo’s own. Still, it was nice of her to have the party, and Jo’s finally glad that she did. Izzie’s the kind of friend who always makes things feel special. Izzie hugs Jo hard and tells her she'd do anything for her, and what would she do without Jo, her maid of honour, the sister she never had. She is gushing, as she always does when she drinks too much.

Alex cuts her off, "happy birthday, princess. We'll talk to you tomorrow." He gives Jo a kiss on the cheek as she grimaces at the old nickname he had coined all the way back when they were freshman in college. Before he exits, he turns back one last time, “you’ll be OK?”

"Thanks, Alex," Jo smiles. "I’ll be fine, good night."

Jo watches him usher Izzie outside, holding her elbow after she nearly trips on the curb. Oh, to have such a caretaker. To be able to drink with reckless abandon and know that there will be someone to get you home safely—so you didn’t end the night passed out on your male friend’s bed with absolutely no idea if anything happened between the pair of you.

Sometime later, Alex reappears in the bar—much to Jo’s drunken delight.

"Izzie lost her purse. She thinks she left it here.” He huffs with a roll of his eyes, “it's small, silver," he continues, using his hands to show them the size. "Have you seen it?""

“She lost her new Chanel bag?" Jo shakes her head and laughs, a little louder than she anticipated thanks to the alcohol coursing through her system, because it is just like Izzie to lose her things. Usually Jo would try her best to keep track of them for her, but as it was her birthday, she decided to go off duty—albeit unintentionally. Still, Jo helps Alex search for the purse, finally spotting it under a bar stool.

“Oh my god!” Jo hears Jackson’s mocking tone from behind her, “the Chanel purse, Jo!” She grabs the purse from the floor, accidentally knocking her head against the bar, before turning around to shove a laughing Jackson in the chest.

Alex grins, lifting a hand to ruffle her now slightly messy hair playfully, “what would I do without you?” He asks rhetorically, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he watches her glance up at the ceiling with a smug shrug, full of confidence.

As he turns to leave, Alex's friend Andrew, one of his groomsmen, convinces him to stay.

"C'mon, man. Hang out for a minute." With that, Alex calls Izzie at home and she slurs her consent, tells him to have fun without her. Although she is probably thinking that such a thing is not possible.

Gradually Jo’s friends peel away, Jackson included, saying their final happy birthdays. Alex and Jo outlast everyone, even Jackson. Something which wasn’t uncommon, it had become a regular occurrence since college. The pair sit at the bar making conversation with the young bartender from earlier who has an "Amy" tattoo and zero interest in the aging brunette lawyer.

It’s just after three when they decide that it's time to go. The night feels more like midsummer than spring, and the warm air infuses Jo with sudden hope: maybe this will be the summer she finds what she wants to do, where she’s going and all that crap.

Alex hails me a cab, but as it pulls over, he says, "how about one more bar?” His voice is hopeful and there’s that familiar crooked smirk on his lips, “one more drink?"

"Fine," Jo groans with a roll of her eyes, a smile on her face that tells Alex she’s joking—she’s more than happy to stop at one more bar with him. "Why not?" Jo grins as they both get into the can and he tells the cab driver to just drive, that he has to think about where to next.

They end up in Alphabet City at a bar on Seventh and Avenue B, aptly named 7B. It’s not an upbeat scene—7B is dingy and smoke-filled. They both like it anyway—it's not sleek and it's not a dive, it’s more up to their speed, more them.

Alex points to a booth, “sit down, this ones on me." Then he’s turning around, "what shall I get you, still partial to a vodka cranberry or beer?" He asks, that smirk still on his lips as he’s proud to think of how well he knows the woman in front of him.

Jo tells him she’ll have whatever he's having, and then she sits and waits for him in the dark red booth, patiently as the vodka and tequila and rum swills around her head. Jo watches as Alex says something to a girl who’s stood at the bar wearing army-green cargo pants and a tank top that says "Fallen Angel." Jo almost scoffs. Jo smiles and shakes her head, ignoring the familiar pang of jealousy running through her veins.

A moment later Alex slides in across from Jo in the old booth, pushing a beer her way. "Newcastle," he says before he smiles, crinkly lines appearing around his eyes. "You like?" Jo nods and smiles back at him.

From the corner of her eye, Jo see’s Fallen Angel turn on her bar stool and survey Alex, absorbing his chiselled features, wavy hair, full lips. Izzie complained once that Alex garners more stares and double takes than she does. Yet, unlike his female counterpart, Alex seems not to notice the attention. Fallen Angel now casts her eyes Jo’s way, likely wondering what Alex is doing with someone so average. Even if the little black dress did wonders for her usually non-existent cleavage, Jo didn’t see herself as anything special. She finds herself silently hoping that the girl thinks they're a couple. Tonight, nobody has to know that she is only a member of the wedding party.

“That’s the dress you wore to our celebratory drinks the night we took the bar.” Alex notices, tilting his beer in her direction.

“Oh wow,” Jo let’s out a breathy laugh, “you remember that?”

Alex smirks before letting out a sigh and shaking his head in almost disbelief, “Of course I do. You threw up all over my bathroom floor whilst wearing it.”

Jo’s jaw drops to the floor at the mention of the old memory, her eyes scanning over Alex as he sets his beer down and lets out a hearty laugh. “Noooo,” she drags the word out, cringing, “I was such a disaster.”

Alex scoffs, “no you were not, you were a college student.”

And for the third time that night, their eyes are glued to one another’s, both having so much to say but having no idea how to say it. But this is how it had always been with Alex, even when they could feel the tension between them—they were still nothing but completely comfortable with one another. Although, in this instance, her cheeks began to heat up.

Jo clears her throat, shaking her head, hoping the waft of her hair would cool down the heat that was rising at the back of her neck. “Do you remember that apartment,” she reminisces, “it barely fit the two of us.”

“How could I forget,” Alex mumbles with a grin, “I spent half the time I lived there sleeping on the floor ‘cause your place was always flooding.”

“I don’t know why you always let me crash in your bed.” Jo thinks out loud. He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head and takes another long swig of his beer, hoping the conversation will change. “You know, I had a huge thing for you back in college.” The words tumble from her lips, so fast he barely catches them but after a second he’s certain of what he’s heard. And she wants to say it’s the drink talking—the alcohol running through her system. But it’s not. And he knows its not. She can tell by the way he awkwardly bows his head, hiding his smile and shaking his head.

Eventually, the conversation changes and it’s as if she never made the slip up. But she did. But then Alex is talking about his job and their Hamptons share that begins in another week and a lot of things. It’s always been this way, easy and comfortable. But Izzie doesn’t come up and neither does their September wedding, not once.

After the pair finish their beers they move over to the jukebox, fill it with dollar bills, searching for good songs as they giggle and tease one another about their song choices. Jo pushes the code for "Thunder Road" twice because she knows it’s his favourite song.

"Yes, Springsteen's got to be at the top of the list. Ever seen him in concert?" Alex’s eyes glimmer, as they glance down to Jo—a tipsy smile gracing his lips.

"Nope," Jo answers with a laugh, “grew up homeless, remember. Concerts were a luxury I couldn’t afford." Jo almost tell him that Izzie offered to take her back in high school, well, Izzie would have been dragged along out of pity even though she much preferred groups like the Backstreet Boys. But Jo decides it’s best not to bring this up. Because then he’ll remember that it’s probably time to go home to Izzie and she doesn't want to be alone in her dwindling moments of twenty-somethingness.

Alex chuckles, never being one to skirt around Jo’s tough upbringing, it was actually one of the reasons they became such good friends. “You’ve had a zip code for over ten years now, I’m not letting that excuse slide anymore.”

Jo mocks shock, slapping a hand against the back of his upper arm, “not an excuse, jerk.”

Not too long later, it’s last call at 7B. They get a couple more beers and return to their booth.

Sometime later they are back in a cab once again, going north on First Avenue. "Two stops," Alex tells the cab driver, as they both live on opposite sides of Central Park. Alex is holding Izzie's Chanel purse, which looks small and out of place in his large hands. Jo glances over at the silver dial of his Rolex, a gift from Izzie. It is just shy of five o'clock. They sit almost silently for a stretch of ten or fifteen blocks, besides for a few comments mixed with tipsy laughter, both of them looking out of their respective side windows, until the cab hits a pothole and Jo finds herself lurched into the middle of the backseat, her bare leg grazing his.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Alex’s lips are on Jo’s. He’s kissing her. Or maybe she’s the one kissing him. But, somehow, no matter who was the one that initiated it, they’re kissing. And Jo’s mind has gone blank as she listens to the soft sound of their lips meeting again and again. Their tongues tangle, fighting for dominance which Alex eventually wins over and Jo can’t complain … because this is what she’s wanted for so so long.

Ever since freshman year.

At some point, Alex taps on the Plexiglas partition and tells the driver, between kisses, that it will just be one stop after all.

They arrive on the corner of seventy-third and third, near Jo’s apartment. Alex hands the driver a twenty and doesn’t bother to wait for change. They spill out of the taxi, kissing more on the sidewalk and then in front of Jose, Jo’s doorman. It makes her giggle and not because she’s still a little tipsy and high from the feeling of Alex’s lips on hers but because who would’ve thought—Hobo Jo has a doorman.

Their lips don’t part the whole way up in the elevator, their hands grabby and desperate as they try to fight the urge to rip off one another’s clothing. Alex has Jo pressed against the elevator wall, her hands moving to the back of his head.

Once their up, she fumbles with her key, turning it the wrong way in the lock as Alex keeps his arms around her waist, his soft lips nipping and biting against her neck and the side of her face. Finally, the door is open, and they’re no longer just kissing and touching. They’re in the middle of her studio, and he’s slowly pulling down the thin straps of her dress, kissing the soft skin where his hands graze—savouring the moment.

Just as Alex is about to pull down the tight dress the rest of the way. His hands stop their descent, placing them on either side of her head and forcing her to look at him. Her pink plump lips swollen, hair messy from him running his fingers through the long tendrils—she looked perfect, he’s never thought she looked more perfect than she did in this very moment.

“Are you drunk?" His voice is a whisper in the dark.

"No," Jo says. Because you always say no when you're drunk. And even though she is a little, she seems to have a lucid instant where she can consider this whole thing clearly. It strikes her that, in a sense, she can have both a momentous birthday night and the one thing she’s wanted for as long as she can remember.

One thought of Izzie is in her mind, but she’s being pushed to the back, overwhelmed by a force stronger than their friendship and her own conscience.

Within seconds, Alex’s lips are back on hers and he’s hurriedly removing her dress ad she makes quick work of snapping open the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Jo doesn’t even realise they’re moving backwards until he’s throwing her down onto the soft bed and Alex crawls on top of her. Jo’s eyes flutter closed, then open, then closed again as a swarm of pleasure sweeps over her as Alex’s hand continue to roam over her body.

“Me too.”

“Hmm?”

“I had a huge thing for you, too. Still do.”

And then, somehow, she’s having sex with her best friend's fiancé.

#jolex #jo wilson #alex karev

23 notes · View notes

chemiste · 4 years ago

Text

a flower to the sun ~ h.s.

masterlist

tattoo design

You were about three shots in when Vicky decided it would be a good idea to play Bet On It with you and your friends at the bar.

The girls and you were in the rich, wealthy side of LA where all the fat lawyers and trust fund babies went to hang out. Sure, it wasn't really your scene being college students who could barely afford one drink but fortunately some of those fat lawyers thought y'all were pretty cute and would just send drinks over your way; all you had to do was smile and wave and the deed was done.

“What's Bet On It?” Eve asked as she sipped her Blue Martini.

“I’ll explain it, Bet On It is where we pose a challenge for you to go do and if you succeed we owe you a favor!” Christy exclaimed with excitement for the game, you giggled and nodded.

“Okay I'm ready let's go!” You shouted happily, slamming the bottom of your fourth shot back down onto the table as a declaration.

“Lydia, I bet my favorite cherry lipstick you won't go get the bartender's number.” You said.

Lydia blushed immensely as the girls giggled. She glanced slightly over her shoulder to see the tall blue haired bartender strut around serving drinks. Lydia's eye had been on her for a while and it was only a matter of time until one of the girls egged her on to go for it.

Lydia sighed and took another shot from the table then walked over. The girls all cheered as they watched her approach the bar nervously and immediately start hitting it off of the bartender.

“Okay, I think we can bet she won't be back for a while so let's continue.” Christy said with a chuckle. Vic glanced around at the four of you then finally settled her eyes on your form.

“I pick... Y/N!” she said.

The girls oohed as Vicky looked around the room thinking of a challenge she could use for you. She gasped as her eye caught something and looked back at you.

“I dare you to walk up to that guy over there and ask to get a tattoo with him!”

All three of you immediately snapped your heads to see who she was pointing at.

Over in the corner at a secluded table with a few other people was a tall man wearing sunglasses on his head, a white T-shirt and flared blue jeans with heeled boots peeking out from under the hem.

He looked to have a bunch of tattoos down one side of his arm and a couple on the other, hence the reason Vicki picked him. He looked pretty hot for only the side of his body... which might have been another factor.

You turned back to her eyes wide open, “Oh my gosh I could never!”

You laughed, swirling your finger on the top of the pink cocktail you had in front of you. Vicki blew raspberry at you.

“Tell you what, if you can go and at least ask him for the tattoo without falling into a fit of giggles I will let you wear-- no I will let you have the purple high heels you always steal from me whenever we go to the bar downtown”.

At that, you immediately stood from your stool, “All right I will be back ladies! Maybe with a tattoo and maybe a bruised ego, we don't know, we shall see.”

The girls giggled as you finished one of the many drinks on the table before heading over, a little liquid courage helping your nerves. You were pleasantly drunk at the moment so this might have not been your best idea but you were halfway over, no turning back now.

Just as you reach the man you realize that he looked a little familiar, his side profile looked out of this world, immortal, like Zeus had sculpted it for himself or something.

You push that thought aside, thinking that it was just the alcohol and tapped him on the shoulder. A look flashed through his eyes that seemed a little anxiety-ridden but it was soon gone when you started out your next sentence.

“Hey, I know I'm a total stranger but will you go get a matching tattoo with me?”

You swayed a little in your spot and reached out to grab his forearm to put a steady hold on yourself. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you from falling over.

“Wait what?”

He responded while sizing you up, wondering if you were insane.

You nodded eagerly, “yeah I've always wanted one but I'm kind of a pussy and so I've never been able to finally go in with a sketch I like and my friends over at that table bet for me to come ask a stranger if I would get a tattoo with them because it be the only way I could get one cause I would have someone else to decide with and they pointed you out so I'm here now.”

The man fully turned to you and damn you were so happy that Vicki had a 6th sense because this man was gorgeous. He had so many little tattoos from your glance to his arm still wrapped around you that somehow all worked together seamlessly on his skin.

His eyes were just so sparkly; the green in them made you mesmerized. He really did look familiar so you're asked.

“Hey do I know you from somewhere?”

The man in front of you seemed to straighten out a little, tensing under the scrutiny of your eyes scanning him.

He reached up to rub the back of neck, “maybe you've seen me… I don't know I could have just one of those faces.” You were still not convinced but it didn't really matter.

“All right, but you better not be a serial killer or something shady like that,” you clasped your hands together in front of you, “Tattoo with me; yes or no.” You asked again.

The man looked back to his group slightly, the eyes of a couple of his friends there subtly watching the situation play out. They all looked very amused and you couldn't blame them, you probably looked like a lunatic. But, the boy in front of you turned back with a smile and cackled.

“Why not!”

He stated and you threw your hands up and cheered, “Great! Do you by any chance know a tattoo shop anywhere?” You questioned him as he put money on the table, and started walking with you through the crowded club.

“Yeah we're really close to Sunset Boulevard, I think I know a place.” You reached for his hand as he pushed through the crowded dance floor, afraid you might lose the handsome stranger in front of you.

Right as y'all got to the door, you waved back your friends who hollered out in their excitement.

You were gobsmacked at the crazy situation.

The handsome man in front of you was going to get a matching tattoo with you.

A tattoo.

Once you made it outside, you realized that trusting the man in front of you might not be the safest idea but your brain was still a little fuzzy and he looked kind so... you just went with that.

You crossed the intersection and started walking down Sunset Boulevard, the man next to you shying away from any glazing eyes that came upon his face as you walked. Thankfully it was dark enough that no one seemed to stop and chat with either of you but you wouldn't even know why they would want to. Maybe they just thought he was hot like you did.

“Hey, so what's your name?” You asked, realizing that calling him gorgeous in your head wasn't going to solve many problems.

“Oh I'm Harry.” He answered.

“Y/N, nice to meet you!”

“You too.”

“I swear though, are you like a Walmart clothing model of sorts, I swear I feel like I've seen your face... I don't think I could forget your face, it's pretty perfect.” You stuttered once you realized what you had said. Harry just chuckled and squeezed your hand that he was still holding.

In no time, he was opening a door and leading you into a tattoo parlor that had a giant Shamrock on the door sign. The people in there seemed very important, all either drinking out of diamond encrusted glasses or smoking huge cigars, the farther back in the bar you went, the more like you felt you shouldn't have been there.

He led you through a couple doors making you realize he probably knew the place better than he led you to believe.

He knocked on a door in the back; a man opened the door a few moments later and looked up at you and Harry. His eyes lit up and he pulled Harry into a hug.

“Hey H, been a long time! How are you?”

“I'm doing well. We want to get a tattoo,” Harry said to the tattoo artist as you both walked into the room.

The artist nodded his head, “sure, sure, what's your name love?” You realized he was talking to you after a moment as you had been mesmerized with all the pretty designs on the wall.

“My name is Y/N and this will be my first tattoo so I'm very excited!”

He chuckled slightly at your enthusiasm and introduced himself, “My name’s Freddy.”

The walk sobered you up a little bit so you decided while the boys were chatting to go through a couple of the designs. There were flowers, arrows, boats, people, eyes, names; basically anything you could ask for.

As you flipped through the tattoo sheets, H set his phone down on the counter to help his friend grab something from a top shelf. You looked over to his phone case and something on the cover caught your eye. Glancing over your shoulder, the two men were engrossed in a quiet conversation. Your curiosity got the better of you and you reached out to slide the phone closer.

Upon further inspection, you could see that between the phone and the clear case was a slightly wrinkled piece of paper with a small poem scribbled out on it.

She fell so naturally into my arms

Like a flower to the sun.

~ Atticus

“Harry?”

“Hm?” He turned back to you, one eyebrow raised slightly when he noticed his phone in your hands.

“What about this?”

Harry walked over and took the phone back, looking at the small poem and then back to you.

“Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly, you nodded while you rang your hands together, teetering back and forth on the balls of your heels.

“Unless it’s too important to you, I totally respect that.”

H shook his head when you said that. “No, it’s actually kind of perfect.”

You smiled his response, both of you taking a moment to relish in the fact that you were actually doing this. Harry popped the phone case off and pulled the small note out, handing it to the tattoo artist.

Freddy looked down at it, “Do you guys want it typed out? Or written like this?”

“Maybe typed out would be nice, like a subtle cursive.” You nodded along with Harry’s comment.

Freddy walked over to the computer to type it out on the poem for the pre-ink outline.

“So how do you want this?” Harry asked you as you both sat down on the small couch in the corner of the room.

Taking a hold of his arm, you turned it, examining all his tattoos and spaces left unmarked. You looked at his right arm and pointed to the inside of his forearm.

“We could each get a line of the poem right here?”

Harry and you looked at each other with grins on your faces.

“Well you did drunkenly stumble into me at the bar so it’s only right I have the first one.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled, “Then I’ll get the second one.”

A quiet beep! alerted both of you to Freddy who held two small sheets in his hand.

“Who’d like to go first?”

You raised your hand and let out a quick breath, “I’m gonna go before I second guess myself.” Both of the men chucked at your statement while you hopped up onto the tattoo chair in the center of the room.

Freddy pulled your right arm over onto a small table he lowered to the perfect height and wiped it down with an alcohol wipe before applying the outline.

“You like it?” He asked, checking for your approval.

You gave him a thumbs up and he got the tattoo gun fired up. You tensed at the noise, becoming more aware that this would probably be pretty painful. Leaning your head back, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to breathe normally.

A gentle hand rested on your thigh, “Hey,” Harry said quietly, causing you to open your eyes and turn to him.

“I’m a little bit scared, needles aren’t my thing.”

You whispered, eyes flitting over to Freddy who now was testing the gun out before holding your arm down.

Another hand turned your chin away from the tattoo artist and your eyes rested upon a much closer Harry.

“Just look at me the whole okay? It’ll feel like a long pinch but I promise it will be over before you know it. Just squeeze my hand when it hurts okay?”

You swallowed and nodded and heard a small ‘3,2,1’ and then a weird tingling sensation on your forearm. You gasped slightly and Harry went to wrap his arm over you so you wouldn’t move. He smiled and nodded encouragingly, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

It was nice and… a lot more of an intimate gesture than you’d experience with someone in months.

You looked at his face, seeing the stubble that hadn’t broken through the surface of the skin, the small mole by his lip, the bit of blue at the bottom of his left iris.

He was remarkably captivating to say the least. A sweet blush appeared on his cheeks, “Thank you.”

“Oh, did I say that out-loud? Oops.”

You both giggled slightly, trying not to move too much for Freddy’s sake.

“You’re pretty captivating too.”

Now it was your turn to blush.

After what seemed like only 10 minutes, Freddy was giving you the “all done!” You finally looked over to your arm and grinned like a maniac.

“I love it!” You showed H and he nodded approvingly.

“Now, up! It’s my turn.” He whined, you laughed while Freddy wrapped your forearm and re-cleaned his tools. Harry didn’t even flinch at the needle but you still held his hand for moral support.

While his thumb rubbed your hand back and forth, you used your available hand to lightly trace his other tattoos with your finger tip.

“Do any of these have special meaning to you?” You questioned, scrunching your brow with you saw Late Late scribbled into his skin.

He shrugged, “I mean some of them do but others I just really liked.”

You sighed, “I think tattoos are really interesting but I never can pick something I really like… I’m always afraid I’d hate it later.”

“What about the one you just got then?” Harry asked, a bit of concern filling his features.

You gave him a small smile, looking down as if you’d become more bashful.

“No uh, I’m quite happy with it. I’m glad I was able to get it with someone.”

You cleared your throat and looked into his eyes more intently, “Harry-- Thank you for doing this, you didn’t have to at all but I appreciate it.”

“Honestly, I’m glad you fell into my arms, I needed some more ink and this seemed like fate.”

The buzzing suddenly stopped so you looked over to the complete tattoo.

“There you go H, another tattoo in the bag!” Harry got up from the chair and you both went to compare tattoos under the big light in the corner.

“You want a photo?” Freddy asked as he put the final piece of machinery back. Harry handed his phone over to him and you took the wrapping off for the picture.

Harry set a hand on your waist to move you in front of him and stretched your arm out with his to show off the full poem on both of your right arms.

“You ready?” He mumbled into your hair and you let out a shaky, “yea”.

I mean, who’s gonna blame you? A fine-ass man had just pressed you into his front and spoke to you like you were a diamond. Freddy snapped a few pictures and handed the phone back, note now back in its original home.

Your eyebrows shot up in realization, “Oh! Who do I pay for this?” You asked Freddy, but he just looked to Harry who stuck his hands up in surrender when you frowned a bit.

“I may or may not have already taken care of it?”

“Harry!”

“I know, I know! Don’t worry it’s not that big of an expense for me I promise.”

You lightly smacked him on the chest, eyes widening guess a bit from the feeling of a very toned pec.

“Well still, I owe you big time! I made you get a tattoo with me and now you’ve paid for it, literally. Lets go get food or something!”

You didn’t let him get a word in before you were waving by to Freddy and tugging him out of the bar and down the street to your favorite diner on the strip.

You opened the door and gallantly gestured for him to enter, “After you.”

He tipped a pretend hat to you and entered. It was nearly empty since it was around midnight but there were a few stragglers at the counter, probably nursing the pre-headache of a major night out.

Harry did the thing again of tucking his head down and led you to a booth in the corner, sitting down in the seat facing the wall. You slid in onto the worn red leather seat and turned the menu to H, pointing on one of the meal choices.

“I always get this one and a chocolate milkshake, but you can get anything.”

“Nope that sounds good, an All American Burger is always appreciated even if I’m not a big meat eater.”

You put the menu to the side and flagged the one waitress in the room, “Are you a vegetarian?”

“No I’m a pescatarian but not for allergy reasons so I can easily cheat the diet.”

You chuckled at that and turned when the waitress made it over to your table. She looked to be around your age and very tired judging by the ketchup stain on her apron and the state of her bun.

Upon her glance to Harry, her eyes lit up with recognition but she kept a professional nature and stuttered out, “W-What can I get you?”

“Two number 4’s please and two chocolate shakes.”

You answered, looking back and forth between a strangely bashful Harry and amazed waitress.

“Uh, yeah of course.” She mumbled and left, but not before taking a double look at H.

You quietly slammed your hands onto the table, “Okay, what’s up? That reaction was super bizarre.”

You leaned back against the booth and crossed your arms (being careful to not hurt your new tattoo) and raised an eyebrow, “You definitely are more important than you led me to believe. So what are you? A Tom Ford model or something?”

Harry met your eyes with a small smirk, dimples popping through.

“Well, I do use Tom Ford cologne.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh come on, so you are a model! What do you model for?”

“I--uh, have modeled for Gucci a bit but not a lot.”

“No shit that's pretty cool.” You leaned forward across the table closing the space between y’all considerably.

“Does this mean that our waitress will probably ask for your autograph before we leave?” You asked in a whisper.

He did the neck rub tick again, “Maybe a picture, I don’t know.”

“Wow so you are a hit! What else have you modeled for?”

“Um well--”

“Here’s your food,” the waitress interrupted, setting down your plates and the two shakes, you lit up like a kid at Christmas and took a big slip of your shake before giving a thumbs up to the girl in front of you who was still not-so-subtly staring at H.

You fake-coughed and that seem to snap her out of the trance she was in.

“Oh, I’m so sorry it’s just-- I wanted to say I was at the Greek Theatre last Wednesday and you were amazing!”

Harry’s posture released and he smiled, “Thank you so much darling, that’s very nice of you.”

“Would you mind signing something for me? Only if thats okay!”

Harry nodded and she quickly fumbled her phone out and--

“Harry, your face is on her phone cover?!”

You sudden exclamation of this caused the girl to go bright red but Harry just kept smiling that scribbled below himself on the pink border as if to not cover up the face.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you!” She swiftly skittered away and you looked at H with an explain right now look.

“I may or may not have undersold myself?”

“You think? What did she mean about the theatre? Are you a performer as well?”

You picked up your burger and took a bite, still watching and waiting for the answer. Harry let out a breath and took a couple fries from the plate, popping them into his mouth and chewing, giving him a couple second to figure out how to tell you.

“Did you ever listen to boy bands in high-school?”

“Uh, not necessarily, I do remember a few radio songs that the band would always play at pep rallies and football games.”

“Okay, do you think you could name those songs?”

You took a sip of your shake and nodded, “Yeah, um, there was Roar by Katy Perry, uh-- Royals by Lorde, and Oh! Best Song Ever by--”

“One Direction.” He answered for you.

“I’m still not following, are you one of the boys in the band or something?”

Harry just took a bite of his burger.

“Oh damn, are you serious?”

He nodded, you were pretty surprised and a little disappointed in yourself cause of course you knew 1D, Eve had been obsessed with them in high-school. Maybe you didn’t connect the two is because you were used to seeing the sweet 16 year old face on the Eve’s cover of J-14 instead of this fine-ass man in front of you.

You laughed as a thought hit you, “Wait, so I remember a little about the band... You guys separated right? Does this mean you were performing solo on Wednesday?!”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

You smiled brightly and squeezed his hand resting on the table, “That must be so cool, how are you feeling about it? Everything fun? I bet being on stage is great... All your fans singing with you!”

He grinned, “Actually it’s been so different but still amazing, it was only my second show by myself but the same adrenaline rush from the first one. I miss the lads but honestly it’s great to be singing my writings now.”

“Do you think I’d know any of your music?” You asked, pulling your phone out of your back pocket and typing in his name to Spotify.

Embarrassment flooded your system when you realized you only knew his first name. Begrudging you asked, “Hey, can I get a last name for the search?”

His eyes widened a bit but not in a judging way but more of a please way.

“Styles.”

“Oh wow, you really are a rock star with that name.”

You scrolled through his page and clicked the first one in the album.

“Meet Me In The Hallway… no way, I think I’ve got this on a chill playlist.”

You both ate while listening to a couple of his songs play from your phone on the sticky table. It was nice, just enjoying each others presence. It could’ve been weird since you’d only met a few hours ago but getting a tattoo together had bonded y’all in more ways than you’d thought.

“Oh shit, is it okay that you got a new tattoo? Is twitter gonna break or something now that you have half a poem with a weird girl from a club?”

Harry let out a big laugh that had your insides feeling warm.

“It’s alright, I don’t think they’ll freak out too badly.”

You swirled your straw around, slurping up the leftovers, “You underestimate fangirls Mister Styles.”

He hummed in agreement and finished his food. Right before you went to the counter to pay, your phone buzzed a couple times.

the girls!

Vic: Y/N you didn’t die did you?

Nope! No kidnapping victim here!

I got the tattoo!

Christy: WHAT

Eve: OMG YOU DID!!!

Christy: VICKI LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE

Vic: i’m proud

Lol y’all are too much

Eve: We’re gonna leave the club and head home, did you need a ride back with us?

Nah, I’m just hanging with my tattoo buddy so I’;; text y’all when i’m heading home.

Eve: Okay we love you!

Christy: love u

Vic: are you gonna get some?!!?

Lydia: WAIT WHAT HAVE I MISSED?

You blushed at Vicky’s crude comment and stuck your phone back in your pocket. It was easy slipping out of the dinner and onto the street.

“Where’s your next show?” You asked.

“I’m off to Nashville the day after tomorrow.”

“Wow, so your tour is revving up isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“Where do you think your favorite place is scheduled on the tour?”

“I’m quite excited for the O2 Arena in England.”

“Fun, when you get back we could catch up if you wanted, I mean we are tattoo buddies now so it only seems right.”

Harry agreed happily and you put your number in and your nickname as ‘tattoo soulmate’ with a stupid profile picture taken quickly on the street.

“Do you think you could send me those picture of the tattoos? I won’t post them or anything cause I don’t really want your PR hunting me down but I’d like to have them for the memory.”

“Yeah no problem, it’s not that big of a deal if you post it, but you just need to know that you might get harassed by noisy fans and as much as I hate to say it, stalked by paparazzi just for being a new friend of mine.”

Harry’s face had shifted into something ridden with guilt so you just gave him a comforting smile and rested your hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry, a friend of mine is studying in Public Relations and Media so I understand.”

A few seconds later, an unknown number bing!ed your phone and the pictures came rolling in.

“Say cheese!” You called out suddenly, catching Harry with a surprised expression for his profile picture.

You looked at the small clock at the top and scrunched your nose at the late time displayed on the LED screen.

You looked up at Harry, “Do you happen to know where I could get a taxi that’s not gonna murder me at this time in this section of LA?”

“I’ll take you home.”

Waving your arms in denial, you said, “No I couldn’t let you do that. I’d only be putting you out of your way.”

“Nonsense, my car is back at the club and trust me, I’m your safest driver tonight.”

Well, he did have a point.

“Ugh, I’m gonna end up owning you my first born if this keeps up like this aren’t I?”

You got back to his car in pretty good time, thanks to his long legs and your naturally fast pace.

“Oh course it’s a Range Rover.” You mumbled, earning a laugh for the rockstar getting into the driver’s seat. You gave him your address and off you both went.

You lived in a house with the girls. It was close to UCLA where you all went. The house had been this horrible tan color when you all first got there but quickly painted it a light blue that always looked so pretty against the sunset skies of Los Angeles.

Your room was the last one on the left upstairs and throughout your college years it had been re-decorated many a times. Right now there was a calm blue on the walls, queen bed in the corner by the window and various art pieces and magazine cutouts taped on the wall above your desk.

You had a dresser against the wall by the door and then pictures. Lots of pictures on the wall to the right, many of them where some you’d taken with friends and others were landscapes and stranger shots in LA. It was a fun hobby to have and it helped that you’d been able to sell a lot of them to shutter shock for some extra cash.

Harry pulled in next to the curb and you unblocked yourself, turning towards him fully.

“Thank you so much for the ride, it would have been a bitch to find transportation tonight.”

“Don’t worry darling, not a problem.”

You grinned, “Let me know when you’re back in town and we can catch up if you want.”

Harry let out a content sigh, “I’d like that.”

You hopped out of the car and ran up the steps. He waited for you to unlock the door and step through the threshold before driving off. You giggled to yourself quietly and closed the door, re-locking it.

With heels in one hand, you crept up the stairs quickly and into your room. After getting ready for bed, you heard a small bing! from your phone you had plugged in on your night stand.

You crawled under the covers before grabbing it.

tattoo buddy

H: you got inside alright? x

yup! thanks for the ride btw

H: of course x

good luck at your next show!!

H: :) x

night tattoo buddy

H: night x

And with that, you turned off the light.

masterlist

a/n : i was thinking a 2nd part but i wanted to know y’all ideas if you have somewhere you’d like the story to go. lmk in the comments if you’ve got an idea

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #one direction #styles #1d #H.S.#h.s. x reader #fineline #harry fanfic

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like-a-bag-of-potatoes · 4 years ago

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Playing With Fire - Brotherly Advice

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93, you rock!

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC)

Warnings: Implied sexytimes. Language probably.

Wordcount: 3001

Breakfast was long forgotten as Beth and Kelly were tangled up between her sheets, exploring each other’s bodies as they both chased a release.

As Beth was catching her breath, she looked over at him, taking in his profile. He was gorgeous, that was pretty obvious, but underneath all that there was a genuinely good heart too. How did she know that? First of all it was from how others spoke of him, and secondly, she could feel it when she looked into those bright blue eyes of his. She knew she was treading on thin ice here, but that was an issue for another time. Right now she just wanted to enjoy this time with him.

“It's rude to stare, you know,” he suddenly said, eyes trained on the ceiling as a smile crept to his plump lips.

She knew it was futile to try and lie her way out of that one. “I think I'm gonna cancel dinner with my brother and help out at Molly’s instead,” she said thoughtfully.

The day before, there had been a pretty serious accident where a truck from another company had rammed into truck 81. Everyone at 81 was whole, but the driver of the other truck was in pretty bad shape. Herrmann had volunteered up Molly’s to host a fundraiser for the injured firefighter, Molina, and his family.

“You sure?” Kelly asked, lazily running his fingers up and down her arm.

“Yeah. This is more important,” she assured. “Besides, I'm like 90 percent sure he only wants to meet up because mom ordered him to check up on me.”

“You could invite him to Molly’s for a drink instead,” he suggested.

It was a nice thought on his account, but for Beth that really wasn't an option. “Maybe,” she said absentmindedly.

“So this is your oldest brother?” Kelly could feel her nodding her head. “And how many do you have?”

“Six,” she stated simply.

“You have six siblings?” he asked, his brows shooting up.

“Yup. Six older brothers,” she confirmed. “Told you I had a big family.”

“Wow… wish I knew that before I took you home the other night,” he joked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder before sitting up. “Story of my life,” she joked. Beth leaned over and grabbed Kelly’s shirt from the floor, pulling it over her head.

He laid back on the bed, arms behind his head as he watched her. “So what do they do, these brothers of yours?”

“They’re cops,” she said simply.

“All of them?” Now it was his turn to sit up on the bed.

“Yeah. Except Brad, who’s a lawyer.”

“So you have five older brothers who are cops?”

Beth chuckled. This was normally the reaction she got when she told people about her family. The only thing that was a little unusual was that Kelly wasn't sprinting for the door already. “One in homicide, one in organised crime, one in vice, and two still in uniform,” she summarised. “They’re harmless though,” she added.

Kelly pulled on his boxers before he followed Beth into the kitchen to dig into the breakfast she had made for them. As she loaded up their plates with eggs, bacon, and pancakes, he poured them each a generous cup of coffee. They placed everything on the table and Kelly sat down.

She was on her way to take a seat as well when Kelly grabbed her and pulled her into his lap, making her squeal before a laugh took over. “What are you doing?” she asked, falling serious again as she looked into his eyes.

A large hand cupped her cheek, his calloused fingers rough against her velvet skin. He coaxed her gently to lean down so he could kiss her lips again. “Can't help it,” he said with a cheeky grin. “You look way too hot in my shirt.”

Beth gave him another quick kiss, humming into his lips as she moved her hands up his sculpted chest. “You look really hot without your shirt, too,” she countered before getting back to her feet.

Kelly watched her intently as she rounded the table and took a seat, that smile still on his lips.

Breakfast was followed by a long, steamy shower. It was truly a great morning, but as they had both dried up and were clothed again a sort of weird tension hung over them. It wasn't really bad or awkward in any way. It just felt more like a ‘now what?’ moment. Like ‘we just had a lot of amazing sex and now we don't have anything to talk about’ kinda deal.

They both looked at each other for a moment and then Beth laughed a little nervously. “Did things just get weird?” she wondered, looking up at Kelly who mirrored her laugh.

“A little bit, yeah,” he agreed, bobbing his head slightly.

She took a few steps forward to close the space between them and then wrapped her arms around his waist. “It's been a really good morning, though,” she said with a coy smile on her lips.

Kelly hummed in agreement before he dipped his head down and kissed her. “I wish I could stay and do more of this-” he gave her another quick kiss -”but I have some things I need to get done today,” he said.

“That's alright. We can pick this back up another time,” she said with a smile. “If you want to that is,” she added hastily, not wanting him to think she was presuming anything.

Kelly chuckled at how nervous she got. “I'd like that very much,” he assured, emphasizing his statement with another kiss. “I'll see you at Molly’s later?” he wondered, not really wanting to let go of her just yet.

“Absolutely,” she smiled.

After Kelly had left that morning, she hadn't been able to focus on anything other than replaying the memories of their time together, and now she was back at work, serving drinks for everyone that had come to show support for Molina and his family. The mood was surprisingly alright considering.

“How’s Cruz doing?” Beth asked Gabby when they found a moment to talk. Cruz had been the one driving truck 51, and was now accused of running a light and causing the accident that left Molina fighting for his life.

“As good as can be expected,” Gabby said. “I do have some other news though,” she said to Beth, Otis, and Herrmann. “Casey and I broke up.” Beth was confused by the smile on both Gabby and Matt’s faces.

Otis and Herrmann looked confused for a second too, until Gabby spoke again.

“Good thing is, now I can fill the candidate slot at truck 81. If you'll have me?”

There were pretty strict rules when it came to personal relationships on the job, but now it seemed as though Matt and Gabby had found a way to work around that. All they had to do was postpone their wedding for a year, until Gabby had completed her candidacy.

“Congratulations,” Beth said with a big smile as she hugged her friend.

The conversation stopped there as a tall, dark haired man with a thick beard interrupted them. “Beth?”

She looked up at him and her smile faltered. “Brad? What the hell?”

“Nice to see you too, sis,” he said, not offering up a smile.

Beth looked at her watch. He should be about ready for take off now, so why the hell was he here? She watched as he introduced himself to Gabby, Herrmann, Otis, and Matt, before her eyes found Kelly at a table far from the bar. The last thing she wanted right now was for them to meet. She looked up at her brother and nodded towards the end of the bar to get him to follow her.

“Why are you here?” she asked. It came out a little ruder than she had planned. “I thought you’d be on a plane back to New York by now.” She tried to ignore the curious eyes that were on them.

“I moved my flight to tomorrow,” he stated simply. “Look… we didn't leave things on the best terms, and I wanted to make up for that,” he said in a serious tone.

“Alright…” she dragged, not really sure what to do with that. “I appreciate the gesture, but I'm working, and I don't really have the time to get into this with you right now.”

Brad was a big man, over six feet tall, broad shoulders, and an intense gaze. The thick, yet well groomed beard didn't exactly soften his looks either. He had a very authoritative aura around him that Beth always crumpled under. It was the culmination of having to be the man of the house at only fourteen and then growing into a successful lawyer. He was used to being treated with respect, used to getting his way, and it didn't matter if you were a random stranger on the street, a client, or his baby sister. Brad would get his way, because his way was the only way. That's why they had butted heads so much over the years, and why they had a huge fight the day that Beth left New York.

“Okay. Let me stay for a few drinks at least, meet some of your new friends.” This was far from a request or a question. Beth knew that the best way to not get into this with him right now was to just let him have his drinks and then hope he left without a commotion.

Brad made his way down the bar again and took a seat next to Otis, asking Beth to get him a whiskey. As she dropped a couple of ice cubes in the glass, she could feel her hands shaking and her anxiety rising.

“Let me tell you, Brad,” Herrmann started. “Beth is the best damn bartender Molly’s has ever seen. Great gal too. We’re lucky to have her,” he praised. It was sweet of him, really, but she knew that Brad would find a way to diminish this.

“Oh yeah? I'm glad to hear that,” Brad said. “Good for you, sis.” Beth gave him a stern look. She was probably the only one that could hear the sarcasm behind his pretended politeness, and she feared what was to come next. “What? I'm not allowed to be happy for you?”

“Come on,” she pleaded, but he was already getting started.

“I'm serious, Beth. I was worried when you left your respectable job at the NYFD - one with a promising future, I might add - but it's nice to see that you have landed on both feet in this dive bar.”

“Hey-” Herrmann exclaimed, not understanding how this conversation had taken such a sour turn.

“Outside,” Beth said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

Brad had a sly smile on his lips as he got up from his seat and started making his way outside. He needed this confrontation with his sister, because in his mind, there wasn't an argument that he couldn't win.

“What the actual fuck, Brad?” Beth shouted as soon as the door closed behind her. “This is my work. Those people you were talking to are my bosses, and my friends.”

He sighed. “Sorry. You’re right. That was kind of a dick move.”

“No shit.”

“Look,” he started, taking a step closer to her as his features softened again, and Beth could see the loving and compassionate brother she knew still existed under his hard exterior. “I've missed you - we all have. Sunday dinners aren't the same without you.”

“I miss you guys too, but I'm trying to start fresh here, and you can't just waltz in here and be all critical and judgemental,” she explained in a calm voice.

“I know. And that's not why I'm here either,” he assured. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope that he gave to her. “It's a plane ticket for tomorrow morning,” he explained. “I want you to come home with me.”

Her heart sank in her chest as anger coursed through her entire body. She should have seen this coming a mile away, but he had completely blindsided her. “I'm building a life for myself here. I have an apartment, a job I love, and friends. I can't just leave. And more importantly; I don't want to.”

“You had all those things back home too, but you had no problem leaving that behind… that and your family,” he pushed.

“That's not fair, you know why I left.”

“You said that you needed space and time. You've had that,” he argued.

“I needed to leave New York behind, you know that. That place just holds too many bad memories for me.” She felt that familiar lump in her throat, but she swallowed it. She couldn't let him see her cry, she couldn't show him any weakness. “It doesn't mean I've left you guys,” she tried to explain.

“You know, when you go through a rough time, you ask for help. You don't run away,” he pressed. This was the exact argument they had the day she left.

Beth didn't know that Kelly had a clear view of them from where he sat inside, and frankly, she was too angry at her brother to even consider the fact that anyone could hear or see their argument.

“I didn't run away,” she snapped. “And I did ask for help - hell -I begged for help, but none of you gave it to me.” Now her eyes welled with tears and her throat burned, but she would not give him the satisfaction.

“Because it was always for him, and never for yourself.”

Kelly saw the tears in her eyes through the window, leapt from his seat and made a beeline for the door. He had no idea what was going on or what he was going to do - or if it was even his place - but he needed to do something.

“Helping him would have helped me, but you guys turned your back on him - on both of us.” Her lower lip quivered, but she bit it back.

“He turned his back on all of us first. He was a piece of shit, Beth, but you didn't want to see it… nothing we said or did-”

Kelly came out just as Beth took a step closer to her brother and pressed an envelope to his chest.

“He was our father, and he was sick,” she said in a warning tone, staring into her brother's eyes with as much resolve and determination that she could muster up.

“Everything alright here?” Kelly asked from behind Beth.

Brad's eyes flew to the stranger as he sized him up. “Everything is fine here,” he said courtly.

“I wasn't talking to you,” Kelly clarified.

“We’re fine,” Beth said, not taking her eyes off her brother for even a second. “Brad was just leaving.” It was hard to explain, but just knowing that Kelly was there, that she had someone in her corner, helped her stand her ground.

Silence followed as the two of them just stared at each other. It was Brad who admitted defeat first, knowing that his sister wouldn't back down here. He hated losing, but continuing this argument meant airing their dirty laundry in front of a stranger, and he was too proud to do that. “I hope you change your mind,” he said softly.

“I won't,” she assured. “I'm good here.”

Brad looked at Kelly and shook his head disapprovingly before he gave Beth's arm a squeeze, and then he said goodbye.

She followed him with her eyes as he crossed the street and got into a car he probably had rented at the airport. She could feel Kelly behind her now, even before his hand landed on her lower back.

“You okay?” he asked, worry in his voice.

“I'm fine,” she said flatly. She turned around and looked up at him, seeing the concern on his handsome face. “Sorry about that.”

It was very clear to him that she wasn't fine, but he didn't want to push her to talk to him. Besides, he didn't really know what sort of role he filled in her life right now, and if it was even his place to ask. “Don't apologize,” he assured, squeezing her arm. “If you want to talk, I'm -”

“I don't want to talk,” she said, cutting him off before he could even finish his sentence. “Just want a drink.”

“Then let's go get you a drink,” he offered with a smile.

The two of them went back inside and before she even reached the bar, Gabby had a shot ready for her. Beth took the glass and threw the drink back before slamming the glass back on the counter for Gabby to fill it up again.

“Your brother is quite the charmer,” Herrmann commented as Beth threw back shot number two. He had absolutely no filter this man, which was just one of the many things that made Beth like him.

“He's normally not like this,” she lied. “Things are just a little tense since I left. I'm sorry for bringing it here though. It won't happen again.”

“Don't worry about it, sweetheart,” Herrmann assured, patting her on the back.

Beth went back to work and Kelly joined his friends again. The two of them didn't really interact much through the rest of the evening, and it left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Around one a.m, Herrmann told Beth to take the rest of the night off, he could clearly see that her head wasn't in the game, and so he sent her home. Beth dug her phone from her purse as soon as she stepped outside and typed a quick text to Kelly.

Walk me home?

Then she waited for about half a minute before he came through the door, and the two of them went back to her apartment.

If you want a tag, just shoot me an ASK and we’ll make that happen.

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If you like what you read, press that little reblog button, maybe leave me a little comment. Feedback is a great source of inspiration for me.

Tags: @campingmonkey @deansgirl215

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide fanfic #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire fanfiction #kelly severide series #PF

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aftokrvteira · 4 years ago

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break my heart (ch.2)

pairing: fem!eren x levi ackerman warnings: explicit smut, cliché, some other characters are genderbended too. word count: 19.1 k status: on going summary: Levi was sleeping soundly next to me and I couldn't help but smile. I got up carefully to go to the bathroom and almost tripped over Levi's pants that were still lying on the floor. I lifted them out of the way and heard something fall with a soft metallic sound. I put the pants on the bed and reached down, feeling the ground under the bed until I felt it and pulled it out. I couldn't see very well, so I took the small object with me to the bathroom. When I turned on the light, I could see it clearly in the palm of my hand.

It was a wedding ring.

prev. chapter | next chapter

available on AO3

It was the fifth night that I went to the same bar and I was starting to feel pathetic and sad. There were no traces of her. It was as if she had vanished into thin air after leaving my apartment in the early morning. I would have thought it had been a figment of my imagination, but the message that she had written on my bathroom mirror showed how real it had been and what she thought of me:

FUCK YOU, YOU CHEATING FUCK

I would have called her crazy if she hadn't left my wedding ring in the sink along with the crime weapon: a red, broken lipstick without a lid. It didn't really surprised me that she drew conclusions when she found it, much more after our meeting. I couldn't blame her. I knew that was why she had escaped from my apartment as soon as she had a chance, but I really wanted to see her again so I could explain the situation to her.

I was not a cheater and never would be. That kind of life is pathetic and impractical to me, not to say that screwing someone else's feelings for an affair is something only a shitty person could do. The reason why she found my ring was because that night at the club, I had officially taken it off to symbolize that I had finally put a closure on my failed marriage. Erwin had taken me to the club precisely to celebrate my divorce - which he himself had carried out as my lawyer - and to help me clear my mind.

Honestly, I felt ridiculous. I no longer felt young enough to go to those places and seeing so many twenty-somethings made me feel outdated. I didn't recognized many songs and had seriously thought about leaving, especially when Erwin had suddenly disappeared. The last time I'd seen him, he was talking animatedly to a little blond woman who, at best, was about 21 years old. I would have liked to interrupt him to tell him I wanted to leave, but from one moment to the next he was gone, leaving me alone in that private room with nothing to do, see or drink. I waited for him for a long time, but when half an hour passed without hearing from him, I resolved that I would have one last drink before leaving.

It was at that moment that I saw her.

She looked uncomfortable, standing by the bar, as if she was hiding from someone and I assumed that was precisely what she was doing. Still, I couldn't help but notice that she was one of the most attractive women I'd ever seen. Her brown hair fell to the middle of her back, soft coppery waves that glinted in the lights of the dance floor. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder blue dress, which allowed me to see her collarbones and golden skin. What had convinced me to approach her were her eyes. Big and the color of the ocean, framed by thick lashes. It was hard to believe that I hadn't seen her before.

I sighed, drinking what was left on my glass and put the money on the counter before leaving.

Since that night I hadn't stopped cursing myself for not asking for her number or even knowing her full name. I hated the idea of her just assuming the worst of me, especially when she couldn't be more wrong. I wanted to wake up and see her, chat with her, and take her somewhere decent. I would have liked to see her, kiss her and feel her so much ... It was like being drugged with a feeling that everything was finally on its place, a feeling that I craved all my married life.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

—What do you want, Erwin?

—Are you free tonight? —. Judging from the background noise, he seemed to be in some bar or restaurant —If so, why don't you drop by with us? It'll do you good, Levi, to take a little break from your endless search.

—Who is "we"? —I wasn't particularly excited about going out with him and who I imagined he was with. The truth is I did not feel with the tolerance necessary to bear Hanji.

—Are you coming or not, midget? —. Speaking of the devil, I heard the brunette's voice, shouting into the phone, over Erwin's voice. I sighed heavily, ready to decline the invitation, but thought better of it. Maybe I should take a break. Erin had left my life for a reason, hadn't she? This fact didn't make me happy, but I had to face it. It was practically impossible for me to see her again.

—I'm on my way.

***

As expected, they were almost all there. Hanji, Moblit, Mike and Nanaba. The only new face was sitting next to Erwin with a sheepish smirk on her freckled face and constantly clutching strands of blonde hair. I sat next to her.

—This is April —Erwin said, introducing her to me —She's my date tonight... maybe you remember her from the club?— Ah, yes. I remembered her, of course. I raised my eyebrows with some amazement and a little envy. April gave me a friendly smile and I just nodded, trying not to think about the fact that maybe at that moment Erin would have sat next to me if it wasn't for the unfortunate misunderstanding between us.

Fortunately, the conversations didn't involve much participation on my part, although I must admit that listening to Hanji's nonsense helped a lot to clear my mind, even for a little while. I constantly looked away from anywhere, until I was struck by the fact that April's cell phone screen began to light up constantly vibrating. She'd ignored the messages at first, but then began to respond quickly, trying not to look rude.

—Is everything okay? —I heard Erwin ask her in a low voice. She barely nodded, putting the phone aside.

—Yes —she answered with a sigh —. It's just the girls...They're asking me if I'm going to movie night with them —she explained and her screen lit up again. I didn't want to be a gossip, but she was literally sitting next to me. It wasn't difficult to hear them —. I thought they weren't going to do it. After all, Erin has been...

And as soon as he mentioned her name, the cell phone vibrated with an incoming call from Erin. Instinctively I became alert. Maybe it was a coincidence, nothing more. How many Erins could there be in the city? There were surely hundreds. After a few seconds, the photo of the aforementioned appeared on the screen and I almost had a heart attack.

There she was, smiling and squeezing April in a tight hug. It was only a fraction of a second until the blonde answered the call and got up to speak privately.

—You've got to be fucking kidding me— I murmured and leaned towards Erwin —. Hey ...—I caught his attention —. I think your girlfriend knows the girl I'm looking for —I whispered, but maybe I didn't do it low enough.

—Which girl?! —Hanji croaked, interrupting herself in mid-sentence. I shot her a venomous look but she was already immune to my temper. All eyes turned to me, interested —. Oh my God, do you mean that girl you told us about, Erwin?

—Congratulations, Levi! —Mike said to me and now my annoyance was focused on Erwin, who shrugged with a smile on his face. God damn it. I promised to myself that I would never tell him anything ever again.

—What kind of lame ass lawyer are you? Spreading confidential information with anyone...— I mumbled —. How much did you tell them?

—Most of it, actually— Hanji admitted —. He told us that it was an intense meeting between the two of you, but at midnight, poof! The spell was broken and your little Cinderella escaped.

—That's gross —I murmured —. I won't tell you anything again, you piece of shit —Erwin laughed and patted me on the arm. I rolled my eyes.

—Come on, Levi, they're our friends. I think they deserve to know the story —he said —. Why don't you ask April about her?

I couldn't just do that. Something that I had left out of the story was the part where Erin had written me a hate message on my bathroom mirror. If April was her friend, she most likely only knew shitty stuff about me and identified me as "the husband who was unfaithful to his wife" that her friend had slept with. I just nodded, and fortunately the conversation turned around, just as April returned to the table.

—I'm sorry, Erwin, but I think I'll have to leave early —she said to him, although she didn't seem very animated —. Mikasa wants us all to meet up at Erin's —he nodded and then looked at me. I didn't say anything, but it wasn't necessary, since the idiot opened his mouth for me.

—I'll take you where you tell me when we finish dinner, okay? —he answered and she took a seat, finally putting the cell phone in her bag —. By the way, April, Levi told me that he seems to recognize your friend Erin from somewhere.

The girl turned to see me, surprised. Her blue eyes scrutinized me completely, as if she was trying to recognize me. I cursed to myself and cleared my throat.

—I saw her picture when she called you. I didn't want to be nosy —I hastened to say—. I saw her face and it seemed somewhat familiar, but surely it's a coincidence.

April didn't say anything immediately, but seemed to be thinking her words.

—Really? —she asked —Hmm ... —she narrowed her eyes but then shrugged, as if drawing her own conclusions —. Oh well ... I can show you the photo more closely, if you want to confirm ...—she took her bag and pulled out her phone. I panicked but couldn't say anything. She tapped the screen a couple of times and she showed me the photo that I had seen and I was able to appreciate it more closely. Of course it was her. I would recognize those eyes anywhere — Is this her?

—Mh? — I blinked, distracted, but then I cleared my throat —Ah, uh ... Yes, I think it's her, but it doesn't matter, I didn't really talked to her that much...— then I remembered her lips, her moans and I felt a chill —. She just seemed familiar to me. Thanks, April —the blonde smiled at me and put her phone back on her bag.

—Have you been to Rose's?— I looked at her, a little confused —It's a big coffee shop on the main avenue — she continued —. Erin works there on weekends. Maybe you've seen her there —she commented and it was the best thing she could have told me. I had never set foot in that cafeteria but now I knew where to look for Erin. I knew my face had suddenly lit up because Hanji made a mocking comment about it, but I didn't care.

I could see Erin again.

#female eren jaeger #female eren yeager #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #riren fanfic #snk riren #levi x eren

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hoplessdreamer9796 · 4 years ago

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BTS 8th Member - Your Friends

Best Friends: Kim Hanbin (B.I from Ikon. (Pretend he’s still in Ikon and YG didn’t snake one of their best artists.) Your mothers are best friends and so when you moved to Korea, he was the only person you knew so you clung to each other. He was also one of your best friends through high school. He is your best friend and you both have always been there for each other. The both of you tried alcohol for the first time together, which you stole from his father’s liquor cabinet. Were there for each other’s first relationships and first heartbreaks. You were there for his parents’ divorce at 12 (I made this up idk if it’s true). You ditched classes and went to go sit on the roof of your apartment building to talk about your futures together. His aspirations for music and yours to live peacefully. In your friendship group he is the grandfather that clings to his youth. He hates any physical activities other than mountain hiking but loves going on nights out. You both even got matching tattoos as soon as it was legal, and it will be explained later. “You can’t push me away Y/N! So, get angry, scream and shout but I’m not going anywhere! I’m your best friend that shit doesn’t work on me!”) Park Shinhye (Despite your age difference you two are best friends, you consider each other sisters. Grew close because you both work in the entertainment industry but both don’t have girls around you, you by being in BTS and her by being an actress so when you both met at an award show soon after BTS debuted you clicked. You both were there for each other threw everything. She’s one of your best friends and you often have movie nights when you’re both free. She cried for you when BTS won a daesang for the first time, that moment went viral. BTS walked off the stage, and were still visible by fans but near backstage, and you two ran at each other like dramatic losers as she was crying more than you were and you were both shouting at each other to stop crying while continuing to hug. Fans love that moment and your friendship. She often states that you are her best friend both in this industry and in life. “I never really thought it was possible to connect to someone like that. But I honestly think that in another life we were sisters.”) Min Sooah (Best friend from high school is your secretary, for now, and is one of your pillars. You would not be able to function without her. There’s an ongoing joke that she is basically your mother, you worry her to no end. She is very grateful to you. After her father broke his hip and was not able to continue working, she had to drop out of university to go to work. You gave her the job as your secretary despite her not being qualified. You needed someone you trusted, and you knew she would work hard. Now she is one of the most important people in your company. She is the Dad of the group always complaining about how “I gave up my youth to look after you brats and none of you have time to spend with me? Okay I see how it is. Daehyun this is your influence on them!”) Ok Hwayoung (Best friend from high school now she is your personal shopper. After university she became a personal shopper, and you thanked the sky’s because she chooses all of your clothes to pack when traveling or when you have formal business meetings. You like buying clothes but you hate the process of shopping and trying things on, so you tell her what pieces you want, and she’ll get it. She also organises your wardrobe ‘cause she’s OCD like that. She also is a hopeless romantic and is constantly trying to talk you and Hangyeol into giving up your partying lifestyle because, “How are we supposed to have a group wedding if you don’t let yourselves find the ones you idiots?!”) Lee Hangyeol (Best friend from high school he owns a mechanics and auto repair shop and he is the only one you trust with you cars. He is also the only one of your best friends who encourages you attitude towards your love life as he is also not into committed relationships. You're both each other’s wingmen. You guys are basically the epitome of lads’ lads when around each other. You’re the loud, annoying people in a bar gassing each other up to chug your drinks down. Whenever one wants to go on a night out the other is always down. “Who needs a relationship? Tequila is just as good. Gives me a fun night and then when the fun wears off it give me a headache and regrets. That’s basically a relationship.”) Tae Daehyun (Best friend from high school he works as a pd on tv shows mainly running man. He was also on the track team back in high school. The two of you often go out on runs together. After seeing what the industry is like behind the camera, he worries a lot for you. Especially since he knows no matter how crappy you feel you’d rather down the nearest bottle of alcohol than talk about it. So, he always tries to let you know if you need to talk, he’s there. Also hates how much you and Hangyeol drink and always tries to make sure you guys eat a proper meal before going out and drinking. He’s also the one in your friend group who can be bothered to cook, he got so offended when he found out you hired a personal chef but then he tasted her food and is okay with it. He’s the Mum of the group. “What the hell is wrong with you all? You can’t throw a knife at the apple on his his head! Are you crazy? See this is what I have to deal with Sooah. But if you weren’t so busy working, you’d know that!”) Ryeo Chungae (Best friend from high school and she works on the public relations for your company. When she first joined your company, she always felt like she got the job because she’s your friend, but you wouldn’t have given her the job if you didn’t think she could do it. She went through a hard time when her boyfriend cheated on her with her old boss. Instead of being scared of falling in love again she wants love. Trying to convince you and Hangyeol that it’s is amazing when secretly she is glad that you won’t be able to get hurt. She is a pushover in all aspects of life except for work. When it comes to work, she is a force to be reckoned with. So instead of staying at her old job with her boss she resigned after making a scene about the boss sleeping with her boyfriend which got said boss fired. When she is with all of your friends, she is also very outspoken and opinionated. However, when it comes to people she isn’t comfortable with her anxiety acts up. You and all your friends are protective of her in situations where her anxiety gets bad. Her ideal life is a Hallmark movie. “One day I’m gunna meet the man of my dreams. He’s gunna be tall and handsome and most importantly he’ll take me away from all of you dumbass motherfuckers.”) Hak Daeho (Best friend from high school he works at Songsun’s shop as and is in charge of customising cars. He is the one that never wants to go out and always wants to stay home. He prefers a night in with his friends than at some stupid club where Y/N and Hangyeol ditch a half hour after arriving, most of the time. He doesn’t have the best relationship with his family after they found out he didn’t want to become a lawyer like his parents and siblings. His parents kicked him out and cut him off. Y/N payed for his college tuition even though he protested, you just said it was a loan and that he can pay you back someday. However, after he had been able to save up to pay you back you told him to shut up and buy a damn apartment which is what he did. Thanking the universes for his friends. He stayed in an apartment with Hwayoung, Daehyun and Chungae during college and no matter how many times he couldn’t pay rent his friends always had his back. It also helped that every time you visited you stocked the fridge and freezer. He thinks of you all as family more than he does of his own family. “You guys are a bunch of fucking idiots. Like you’re my family but damn you guys are stupid.”) Park Soomi (Best friend from high school. She is the most subscribed to female Korean youtuber with 11 million subscribers. She is also and ambassador for Jeonsa cosmetics although at first, she didn’t want to be as she felt like it would be using her friendship with you to her advantage. However, after you convinced her to accept, she did. You also knew that you could trust her since she has always been honest with you and never expects anything from you. You also knew that she would be advantageous for your company so it’s not like you’re just giving her money your promoting your company through her brand. After you explained this she reluctantly agreed. She is the loud, chaotic crackhead of the group. Constantly doing dumb shit. “Hey guys my pineapple was being difficult long story short we no longer have a microwave.”) Im Kyungmin (Best friend from high school, he is a part of Soul & Bones, a hip-hop and house dance crew. When you were younger all of your friends would go to his contests. Everything you learned about dancing you learned from watching that crew. You always loved the way their dancing looked and the atmosphere they created. But you were realistic with your situation knowing you’d never get to dance. When Bang pd wanted you to be a trainee you were hesitant, but he practically dragged you to that audition. And during trainee days he helped you with your dancing. He says your better than him now, but you know you’re not. Soon after you became a billionaire Soul & Bones were set to end. Their investor pulled out and most dance crews are under entertainment companies unlike soul & Bones. Kyungmin was devastated, Soul & Bones was his whole life. So, when you decided to fund it he was conflicted. On one hand he was thankful and on the other hand he was guilty. But after you told him what the crew meant to you, how you were also friends with everyone else in the crew and couldn’t let it end when you could do something about it he was on board. You however made it clear you don’t own Soul & Bones you just pay for things. Now it is considered the best hip-hop dance crew in Korea and one of the best in the world. He is the one in your group who seems high most of the time but isn’t. “I think that pizza is thinking shit about me... I’m gunna eat it not ‘cause I want to but because it needs to die!”) Close Friends: Mark Tuan (You met at a BTS and Got7 collaboration for and you both clicked immediately because you were both from western countries, you were both raised in similar cultures so you had become close friends easily. It is also less lonely when you both miss your home countries if you’re around each other. It was surprising because your personalities are the opposite, but you bring him out of his shell. Whenever you guys meet you always speak in English and it’s a relief for both of you since it is your first language no matter how long you’re in Korea. You both also relate on how different your home countries’ standards are compared to Korea in terms of public image, behaviour and many other things. It’s very easy to be your true selves around each other. ) Choi Youngjae (You guys are the same age so you clicked easily. Even though you’re closer to Mark you’re still close to Youngjae. The guy is literal sunshine it hard not to like him. There is also a group of idols born in 1996 who he is a part of.) BTS and Got7 are both close to each other so you are friendly with all the members. But you are the closest with Mark. Woo Jiho (Zico. You both met when BTS and Block B did a collaboration at mama. Namjoon and him knew each other but they weren’t that close, so it was unexpected when you and he hit it off. You are both close friends and hang out when you can. He often asks for your opinion with his music and the two of you once spent an entire night just messing around in the studio. He says that you are one of the only people to get him to take a break, when he’s in work mode, and to have some fun. Clubbing isn’t really his scene so you and Jaemin often have to beg him to go out drinking with you guys. He used to have feelings for you but after some time in the friendzone he realised he is okay with you not having feelings for him as long as you are in his life. No one knows about the feelings he had for you.) Lee Jaemin (A YouTuber who has 7 million subscribers. The two of you met through Jiho and got along very well because you both like alcohol and clubbing. However, he maintains a clean public image, so your company is fine with you being seen in public together. Your members aren’t very fond of him since the time he showed up at the dorm drunk looking for you and threw up in a plant. They think he is a bad influence, but you know what he was going through and know he’s a good person. He feels like he can be himself around you without feeling judged. Yoongi really hates him and the friendship you two have.) Kang Yujin (She is an Instagram model who has 18 million followers and 2 million subscribers on YouTube. She met you and Jiho through Jaemin. However, once the public found out about your friendship many thought she was using you in order to work with Jeonsa cosmetics. But you knew this wasn’t true. Yujin was the kind of person to drive to McDonald's for you at three in the morning when you had a nightmare about your father and wouldn’t tell her what it was about. The kind of person to kill spiders for you even though she’s scared of bugs too. And due to the public’s reaction, she was scared you would end up thinking the same of her. You told her how you knew what kind of person she was and in order to make a statement to the public you both posted a photo together on her Instagram announcing her endorsing your company. She is a very close friend and an older sister figure to you.) You, Zico, Jaemin and Yujin often go bowling together or go out to eat and are also drinking buddies you are very close to them. The four of you are often spotted in public together. Kang Seungyoon (You both met through Hanbin and both of your personalities go very well together. Musically you both also mesh very well together. You both also often play pool together and he gets triggered at how he’s played longer but you kick his ass at it. Whenever you both have the time you go out for food and drinks and spend all nigh playing pool and all night, he complains that you’re a cheater and he won’t stand for it. He’s a very good friend.) Kim Jisoo (You met her first, soon after they debuted, in the bathroom. The two of you clicked and then you met the rest of the group through her. It was easy to become friends with them due to BTS and Blackpink both being at the top of K-pop, so you were a lot more understanding of each other’s situations. She is a very close friend of yours and is an older sister figure to you. She always gets excited when you send her the new launches of Jeonsa cosmetics and does vlives talking about it.) Kim Jennie (Despite Jennie being introverted you charmed her during your first conversation. She found it very easy to talk to you despite being slightly nervous and you were her sunbae. She was surprised how easy it was to talk to you. You are a people person, and she is not so like most other extroverts she’s met she thought you would clash but surprisingly your personalities match very well. You bring out the fun in her.) Lalisa Manobal (Lisa. She looks up to you a lot in terms of your dancing. She is very clingy towards you when you meet, and you love her crackhead energy. You learnt to speak Thai early after BTS’ debut, this made Lisa feel like she could connect to you on a deeper level. You have also helped her with the racist side of K-pop, her being Thai and you being half Arabic you’re both no stranger to how harsh netizens are. As you have been going through it for longer than her you are able to comfort her (kind of because you’re emotionally stupid but you try and push that aside for your friend).) Park Chaeyoung (Rose. She was also born in a western country so when she met you it helped her feel less homesick. You both often talk about childhood TV shows together and relate to each other when people talk about Korean things from their childhood that you have no idea about. Even though you’re from different places it’s nice having someone who understands the difficulties of moving from western culture to eastern.) Kwon Jiyong (Gdragon. You guys met backstage at an award show when BTS and Bigbang met. The groups are casual with each other, but you and he became very close especially because you’re friends with many YG artists. You also both like to party a lot and often go out together. He views you as a very close friend and is often nagging at you to eat and rest properly You try and hang out whenever you both have time.) Matthew Kim (BM. You two met during an inkigayo. He got lost and was swearing in English. So, you approached him and asked in English if he was okay. You helped him find his way back to his dressing room. He knew who you were and that you were British as BTS was well known then. However, he was expecting you to be arrogant and was pleasantly surprised with how nice you were. You and he got along well as you have similar personalities. Both extroverted. The two of you also quickly found out about your shared love of partying and clubbing and now you often go out together.) Peniel Shin, Ashley Choi, Amber Liu, Stephanie Young Hwang (These are some of your other western born K-pop friends.) Red velvet (You are good friends with the group mainly Joy as you are the same age. You, them and Blackpink try to go out together when you can. Irene is also very protective over you and sees you like a little sister.) Park Chanyeol (You have very similar attitudes you were good acquaintances but then you both worked together on the Goblin ost (Pretend it was you instead of Punch p.s I love that song so fucking much.) He always tries convincing you to let him drive your cars and you always say no. He’s a very fun person and you guys have a good laugh together.) You’re friendly with the rest of the Exo members but the closest to Chanyeol. Your best friends are: Hanbin, Shinhye, and all of your friends from high school. However, you are still close with the rest of your friends.

#bts #bts 8th member #bts 8th member friends #bts 8th member imagines #bts x reader #reader #bts x reader friends #imagines #bts 8th member imagine #imagine #bts imagine #x reader #your friends #friends information #fluff #angst

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leahxx129 · 5 years ago

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His Name (demon!Dean Winchester x Reader)

This is a submission for the immensely talented @fvckingavengers ‘ quarantine writing challenge. Also, I’d like to credit @angelkurenai since her soulmate AU imagines provided the main idea for this fic.

My prompt for inspiration was:

You’re all I need when I’m holding you tight / If you walk away I will suffer tonightI found a man I can trust / And boy, I believe in us / I am terrified to love for the first time / Can’t you see that I’m bound in chains? / I finally found my way / I am bound to you - Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Summary: Nobody knew why or how, but on their thirteenth birthday every person on planet Earth would start feeling this burning sensation on their left lower arm, which intensifies as the day carries on. By the time the sun goes down, the burning sensation would leave a scar, forming a name. It’s believed to be the name of the person one belongs with. The letters on your skin spell out Dean Winchester.

Warnings: angst, mild swearing

Word count: 3.275-ish

Sam Winchester is staring intensely on the map in the War room as if he watched it closely enough, it would show where his brother went from the last place he’d been spotted at. Sam is tired beyond words – he has spent every waking hour searching for Dean, even though he is not sure that the demon curing ritual would work on a Knight of Hell.

„You know we’re gonna find him, right?” Cas speaks up, making Sam jump a little.

„Cas... didn’t see you there... Uhm, sure, I know. It’s just harder than I thought.” his words don’t really comply with his facial expression.

„Well, I do not know if this is helpful, but Crowley sent me a photo a few minutes ago with a text saying ’Show this to Moose’. It depicts a woman I have never seen before.” he hands Sam the phone.

„Oh my God!” Sam’s eyes light up with excitement. „Why haven’t I thought of that?!”

„Thought of what? I think I’m in the dark here, Sam.”

But Sam is too busy looking for something in his pockets to answer. A couple of seconds later a familiar rattle indicates he found his car keys and he claps Cas on the shoulder.

„We have a long drive ahead of us, buddy.”

It‘s 2. a.m. on a Thursday night, you are wiping the bar counter with a cloth. Nothing out of the ordinary happened all evening. You started your shift around 6 p.m. at the local bar, only the regulars came in. The air was heavy with the scent of liquor and cigarette smoke. Even the old jukebox in the corner and the clatter of billiard balls sounded pretty much the same as every night.

Just as you’ve finished wiping and start washing the glasses, the main door opens then closes slowly with a squeak.

„I’m sorry but were closed! Try tomorrow, pal.” you say without looking at the newly arrived guest. It’s not a rare phenomenon that someone wants to stick around for a couple more drinks after closing time, so you don’t suspect anything. Not until the person begins talking, anyway.

’Really? I thought you’d make an exception for an old friend...”

Hearing Sam Winchester’s voice makes your blood run cold, numbing you to an extent that the glass you are holding slips out of your grasp and shatters to a dozen pieces on the floor.

„Sam...” despite your best efforts you can’t muster anything other than his name.

„I mean, I was hoping you’d be excited to see me, Y/N, but breaking glasses is not necessary. Or safe.” he chuckles, sitting down on a bar stool.

„Shut up, smartass!” you intend to look serious, but a smile creeps on your face, nevertheless.

There’s a long moment of silence. Neither of you want to spoil the joy of reunion so you just look at one another, taking in how the other has changed over the years. You pour two scotches and finally Sam clears his throat.

„I see you’re still covering up his name.” he states, referring to your bracelets that hide most of your left lower arm.

Oh, right. His name. Frankly, you tend to forget about those words burnt in your skin quite easily.

Nobody knew why or how, but on their thirteenth birthday every person on planet Earth would start feeling this burning sensation on their left lower arm, which intensifies as the day carries on. By the time the sun goes down, the burning sensation would leave a scar, forming a name. It’s believed to be the name of the person one belongs with. The letters on your skin spell out Dean Winchester.

You can still picture the day you got it crystal clearly.

It was around 10 p.m. when it finished burning and you were able to read it. Your father’s face turned to an ashy color and he drove you to Bobby Singer’s house where the Winchesters were staying at the time. Hearing an engine die, Bobby and John came out to see who the unexpected visitors were.

“Stay in the car!” your father ordered through gritted teeth as he got out and you obeyed.

John smiled when he recognized him, but his smile soon turned to a painful grimace – courtesy of your father’s amazing left hook.

“What the hell, man?!” he shouted in disbelief, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand. Bobby was visibly indecisive whether to stop the fight or let it play out.

“I could ask you the very same question, Winchester!” your father bellowed in response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I’m talking about the name that formed on my little girl’s arm, John! You have some dark connections, you must’ve got something to do with it!”

“It’s Dean, isn’t it?” you could see the epiphany on his face even in the poor light that filtered through Bobby’s kitchen window. “Look, pal... you and I both know damn well that this cannot be controlled.”

A long silence ensued. Only the crickets could be heard.

“Ever since my girl’s name showed up on your boy’s arm, I prayed every single night for it to be a mistake. For her to get a different name when the time comes, and you know I don’t believe in God, John!” your father’s voice cracked. “I prayed for her to get the name of a lawyer, a doctor or a dentist… somebody that’ll provide for her. And she got a hunter. Out of seven billion people, she got a hunter… I don’t want her to end up like Mary, or her Mom.”

John took a step closer and squeezed your father’s shoulder.

“Dean will take good care of her, I promise.”

You banish the memory as quickly as you can. The only thing you’re thankful for is the fact that none of your dads lived long enough to see how much of a lie John’s promise would prove to be.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t cover it up.” you answer Sam coldly and he shoots you an apologetic look.

“What about yours? Have you found your, uhm... what’s her face… Eileen Leahy?” your pronunciation earns a genuine smile from him.

“No, not yet. I’m starting to think she’s a myth.”

“Well then, she’s the luckiest myth in this whole damn world, I can tell you that much.”

You down your drink in one gulp and decide to ask what’s been bothering you ever since he set foot in the bar.

“Alright, Sam, honest talk. Why are you here? What’s up? I gave you this address for emergencies and the fact that we’re having a face-to-face conversation right here, right now is a bad sign in my book.”

He looks like he’s contemplating the way to present the situation to you, but you’re having none of it.

“No need for sugarcoating, hot stuff, just spill it.”

“Dean’s a demon.”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard it right or the scotch you’ve just drunk was spiked.

“Excuse me?”

“Dean’s a demon. He died with the Mark of Cain on his arm and he turned into a Knight of Hell. Gone rogue. I want to fix him, but you know Dean... it’s damn hard to find him when he doesn’t wanna be found.” he flashes you a smile but when you don’t replicate it, he continues “I’m here because he’s here, Y/N. Based on my intel, he’s been visiting this bar to see you. Will you help me cure him?”

With a blank stare you pour yourself another drink, now wishing for it to be spiked.

The next day after closing you don’t get into your car immediately; you decide to light a cigarette first. Sam’s words are still echoing in your ears. A demon? And he’s been visiting the bar to see you? Why the hell would he do that? You’re about to stub the remainder of your cigarette when you hear his voice from behind you.

“I always thought you looked incredibly sexy when you smoked, darlin’. Turned me on so much.”

You spin around on your heels just to bump straight into Dean’s chest. He grabs hold of your arms to steady you. His touch gives you goosebumps, but you compose yourself swiftly. You cannot allow him to see the effect he still has on you, even after everything that happened.

“I know, Dean, you made it clear quite a few times with your actions… what I don’t know, however, is the reason behind your little visit... so, a fucking explanation would be nice. But first, let go of me!”

“That’s such an ugly word from such a pretty mouth�� and to be honest, I think you know damn well what I’m doing here. A birdy tells me Sammy paid you a visit and I doubt that he didn’t share a few things about me, Y/N. As for letting you go… sorry, no can do.” he smirks.

“What do you mean ‘no can do’, Winchester?!” you ask sharply, panic rising withing you.

“Well, more precisely, I don’t want to. I’ve missed you.” he leans in closer to your face “And frankly, I don’t want you to put those engraved demon cuffs on me that peek from your back pocket, sweetie.” he whispers against your lips.

“Okay. How ‘bout the ones Sam is about to put on you?” you whisper back, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion and lean away. This gives you enough space to headbutt him and he automatically stumbles a step backwards, allowing Sam to cuff him from behind.

With united forces you manage to hustle Dean into the trunk of your car.

“You know, demon or not, it’s nice to know some things never change. You’ve always let your dick do the thinking instead of your brain.” you tell him condescendingly before closing the trunk.

When Dean wakes up in the Men of Letters’ dungeon restrained, at first, he’s perplexed. Then as realization slowly hits him, his face becomes distorted with fury and he starts wriggling in an attempt to break free, but he doesn’t succeed. A frustrated, unhuman-like growl leaves his throat. You watch this with undeniable pleasure.

„Mornin’, sunshine!” you greet him jovially.

There’s a short silence as he watches you prepare some syringes on the nearby iron table.

„So, you’re the one who’s gonna do it, huh? Or at least try...” he says arrogantly.

„Yup!”

„Now that’s funny ’cause you see I thought you hated needl-„ but you don’t let him complete his sentence as you pierce your skin faster than he could finish it. Your blood fills up the syringe in no time.

You walk over to him and sit on his lap in a straddling position.

„I do hate needles, Dean.” You admit „Kudos for remembering. But I’m pretty sure that you’ll hate what comes next even more than I hate them and that makes it worth it.”

Before he could react, you stab him in the neck with the syringe, completely emptying its content into his artery. The unhuman growl breaks out once again, but this time it turns into manic laughter.

„Wow, that was exciting!” he exclaims as his eyes turn black „Almost as exciting as Jo holding me at gunpoint when we first met. But just almost... You know, there were times I wished it was her name on my arm instead of yours.”

„Interesting. Because there were times I wished it was your brother’s name on mine, but I guess we can’t always get what we want, now can we?” you shrug and walk back to the table, not minding Dean’s pitch-black stare. He thought he could hurt you since Jo was your best friend, but you manage to hit closer to home.

You sit down on a chair, place your legs on the table and put your headphones on.

„What are doing?” Dean asks, clearly upset.

„You didn’t seriously think I was gonna listen to your annoying blabber until the next shot, did you?” he opens his mouth to reply but you turn on the music on your phone and start lip-syncing to ’Dream on’ by Aerosmith.

In the following four hours you administer the next four shots, each at every clock turn. Dean says something insulting each time and you try to ignore him each time - with more or less success.

“Alright, hot stuff, time for the sixth shot!” examining your arm you realize it starts resembling to a needle pillow, but you draw another fix for him all the same.

This time he appears calmer. He’s not trying to pull his head away or even bite you like at some previous occasions. No shouting or growls either. You can see he started sweating, the small drops glisten on his skin like illuminated diamonds. Could the ritual actually be working?

You’re halfway back to the table when he calls you by the nickname he gave you, forcing you to turn back.

“I just want you to know I admire you. I really do, Y/N. Seeing you put this much effort into this makes me wish I put more in our relationship.” he shoots you a sad, crooked smile.

“Careful, Dean. If you don’t stop attempting to manipulate my emotions, I’m gonna punch you in the face. Again. But this time harder.” you warn him.

“I’m not toying with you. I honestly wish.”

“Well it’s kind of too late for that, isn’t it?” you take a step closer to him and pull up the bracelets on your arm. “See these words? They are the sole reason I’m here and doing this. Okay?”

“Who are you trying to fool, sweet thing? Me or yourself?”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Your hands tremble when you get back to the table and put the headphones on. You feared this moment would come and here it is. He’s trying to get under your skin. And it’s working.

Later on when you approach him with the seventh shot, he tilts his head to the side, offering his neck.

“Go on.” he encourages you and you take the opportunity. The ferocious, invincible being Sam chained down is nowhere to be seen – a broken man with beautiful green eyes looks longingly at you instead.

“There’s one more to go and you’ll be your annoying self again, hot stuff.” you tell him softly, relenting a little.

“And you?”

“I’ll be on my way to the farthest place from here.” you decide to tell him the truth, which seems to render him speechless for a minute.

“Why do you hate me so much, Y/N?” I mean, I know I’ve never been the high definition of an awesome boyfriend, trust me, but the amount of resentment I sense baffles me.” he asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

The ball of uneasiness in your stomach grows two sizes in the span of a minute.

“You’ve lost your right to ask such personal questions four years ago, Winchester. You’ve lost it when you left that letter on the kitchen counter, and you walked out on us!” you say in a strained voice.

Suddenly, all the memories you‘ve worked so hard to suppress flood back in.

When Sam jumped in the pit, Dean was lost. His self-destructive behavior foreshadowed a gruesome end and you just couldn’t let him spiral down like that. You made arrangements and got out of the life. Rented a house in the countryside and started living like a normal couple. Beforehand, your relationship was stormy to say the least, but settling down steadied it a lot. Everything was picture perfect for about a year - then you found that damn letter when you arrived home from work. Dean explained in it that Sam was alive, and he needed some time to figure stuff out. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him what you learned that day… and this was the last straw. You never contacted Dean Winchester again, nor did you speak to him directly. Your liaison was Sam up until that night in the bar’s parking lot.

Dean’s voice brings you back to reality.

“My brother came back from the dead… I was confused, Y/N. Just like I wrote, I needed time! After a while I was trying to reach out to you, but you refused to even-“he stops mid-sentence “Wait a minute… walked out on you… as in… plural?”

You nod mechanically and his eyes widen.

“Wha-what happened?” he chokes out eventually.

“I was pregnant. Then miscarried. Don’t worry about it.”

Is that really a teardrop running down his cheek, or are you imagining things?

“Don’t worry about it?” he raises his voice in disbelief. “That’s all you’re gonna say about it?!”

“I don’t want to say anything else, Dean. Because if I pull on that thread again, my mind will go to a dark, lonely place and I think I deserve better than that.”

“Goddamnit…” he exhales loudly, then continues “When all of this is over, I want you to stay.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I want you to stay with me. Here. I want a clean slate, a-a new beginning.”

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. One minute you were curing your ex-boyfriend from demonism, and the other he wants to start things over despite your history together.

Instead of replying, you fill up the last syringe and administer the eighth shot quickly, then deliver the required incantation. Just as you finish, Sam enters the dungeon and you run past him straight to your car. You open the door but before you could sit in somebody closes it from behind. You don’t have to turn around to know who it is, but you do it anyway. Dean takes your left arm and reveals his own name.

“I remember the night you got this thing. I was in the house when you and your dad arrived at Bobby’s and I witnessed the whole ordeal. I know that ‘til now I did a crappy job keeping the promise my dad made to yours but give me one last chance to do it right, okay?”

You look away, trying to blink back a few tears that want to escape your eyes deperately.

“I don’t know, Dean…”

He gently grasps your chin to make you face him.

“You know, when Sam gave me your message saying you don’t need me anymore, I thought – fine. If you don’t need me, I don’t need you, simple as that. But it was a lie. I only realized how big when I became a Knight of Hell… I enjoyed killing, Y/N. I enjoyed killing so much that it scared the crap out of me. But all this darkness and anger brought on by the mark alleviated one night when I accidentally stopped at that bar and saw you…”

“Damn, Winchester, are we having a chick-flick moment here?” you ask, trying to take the edge off the situation while wiping your eyes.

“Yeah…I guess we are. But don’t tell anyone ‘cause it would ruin my reputation.” he whispers the last part.

You scoff loudly.

“What reputation are you talking about, exactly? I think you lost every bit of it back in the parking lot when I kicked your demon ass.”

“Oh, well, I guess you’re right, sweet thing.” he admits with a breathy laughter.

“As for a second chance… fine. But fail to keep that promise once more and I’ll be gone for good. Understood?”

At first a look of genuine surprise spreads on his face but it soon gets switched up by gratitude. He places a feather light kiss on your lips as confirmation.

Truth be told, you could never leave him just as he could never leave you – at least not permanently. No matter the pain and the misery, you belong with each other. Your souls are bound by an invisible lace that nothing can tear apart.

#dean winchester #reader #dean x reader #supernatural #SPN #spnfic #deanmon

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