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ipuckwithhockey · 4 years ago

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History Repeats Itself- B. Boeser

a/n: This somehow ended up being around 11k words, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, I only did a quick scan for grammar and spelling so sorry if there are errors!

summary: You and Brock met once back in college when you were still committed to your high school boyfriend. Years later you’re single and older and just starting a new job in Vancouver. The only question now is whether or not you will take the opportunity to rewrite your own history.

warnings: None that I can think of

“So, are you in or no?” Y/N’s roommate asks her as they walk out of the library and toward their dorm.

“I don’t think so Mags, I actually have some studying to catch up on.” You reply unconvincingly. Midterms of your first semester at the University of North Dakota just came to a close, and your excuse of having homework on a Friday night wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Y/N, seriously? You aced all of your midterms and we just spent three hours in the fucking library! Live a little! The hockey team is having a huge party, and the guys are really fun AND super hot! You deserve this!” Maggie tries to convince you to come out to a party that the UND Hockey team is having tonight, and you tell yourself not to give in.

“Maggie, I have a boyfriend. And you know they don’t let guys who aren’t on the team into their parties. God, it’s basically a frat.” You scoff at the idea of a frat party, but there’s still a small part of you that wants to experience the chaos of a real college party. That’s probably why it ends up being so easy for Maggie to convince you to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top before embarking on a night out.

“Y/N, this is Nick and Brock. They’re both in my econ class. Nick is a sophomore, but Brock here is a freshman like us!” Maggie happily introduces you to the two tall boys as you enter an old musty house, full to the brim with college kids. The air smells like stale alcohol and you take note that your shoes are somehow already sticky. You’re not sure if it’s from something you stepped in or if it’s just the floor in general.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” You shake Brock’s hand that he’s extended for you and you can’t help but stare a little too long, taking in his blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes.

You had to admit though, Katie was right, these guys are super hot. You can already tell your roommate has her eye on this Nick guy, and it actually looks like he might be interested in her too. He’s just her type— He’s hot and he knows it, and his dark hair and striking features draw the eyes of nearly every girl in the room. The blonde boy who stands across from you is quite honestly the opposite of Nick. Brock is also undeniably good-looking, but he’s shy and his light hair and soft smile make him seem less intimidating than his friend.

Nick finds you and Katie some drinks and some other girls you’ve become friends with show up to the party a little later. The boys come and go as they mingle with other people and their teammates, but Nick tends to stay close by to Maggie and you catch glimpses of Brock occasionally. Apparently his shyness doesn’t apply to his teammates. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him and his friends dance together to some shitty remix of a song you used to blast on your way to school. You’re actually having a great time, but you can’t hear your phone ringing over the music that’s blaring through the house you’re in. Later, Nick offers to walk you and Maggie home after a few hours of living like a real college kid, and Brock ends up tagging along since he apparently lives in the same building.

“So, how come we haven’t met you before tonight? This one talks about you all the time.” The four of you are walking across campus and Nick has Maggie under his arm as he asks why you never seem to be with your roommate.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie quips as some of the alcohol she’s consumed tonight gives her the courage to openly criticize your relationship.

“Maggie.” You say in a warning tone. “He’s just not a big partier, and usually I’m not either.” You shove at her shoulder lightly. Maggie was nice and you liked being her roommate, but when you first met and told her you had followed your high school boyfriend across the country to attend a university in “North fucking Dakota” she immediately expressed how crazy she thought you were. In her eyes there was no way that a couple who started dating when they were fifteen would last forever. You disagreed, which is why you turned down your scholarship to an ivy league and followed your boyfriend to North Fucking Dakota. His family was from North Dakota, and for some reason everyone in their family had to go to school there too. At the time, you didn’t see it as giving something up, you saw it as you and your boyfriend starting a life together outside the confines of your hometown.

“So, what floor do you live on, Brock?” Maggie asks as the four of you make your way up to your building.

“I’m on 4— Room 405. What about you guys?” Brock asks back.

“We’re 219.” You say back before you’re startled as you hear another voice you’re not exactly expecting.

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been?” The group you’re with is almost to the doors of your dorm building when a perturbed voice yells for you.

“Uh- Owen. What are you doing here?” You’re surprised to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, looking like he’s seeing red. You weren’t even supposed to be seeing him at all tonight. He had told you he was going to be occupied for the evening while he was studying for his physics exam. You hadn’t told him you were going to the party, but at the time you didn’t think it was important. Owen preferred that you didn’t bother him while he was studying, so you decided against calling him before your night out.

“I’ve been calling you for like two hours— God have you been drinking?” The rest of the group you were with tonight looks uncomfortable to say the least, and you can’t blame them. Owen wasn’t the best at saving face, especially when he felt like someone hadn’t upheld the standards that he had set out for them. Now he just looked like a dad reprimanding their child, and a wave of embarrassment quickly washed over you.

“I just- We went to a party. I didn’t think you’d mind. You were supposed to be studying all night,” You say sheepishly, as you begin to regret letting Maggie convince you to go out. Before Owen can clap back again, Maggie nudges you and tells you that the three of them are going to go, not wanting to invade on your private life any longer.

When they’re gone, Owen starts again, “This just isn’t like you. I’m so disappointed.” You feel bad now, you know you haven’t done anything wrong, but Owen’s words make you feel like you have, so you tuck your tail between your legs as follow him back to his dorm and apologize for what you did.

That was almost five years ago. You dated Owen for longer than you’d like to admit but eventually you removed your rose-colored glasses and broke up with him. You graduated from UND and got a second chance at your Ivy League dreams when went to graduate school. Now, you’ve completed your masters and have been offered a promotion at you job. The only catch was that the new position required you to move to the west coast… of Canada.

You moved almost two months ago, and your raise was enough to allow you to move into a nice building downtown. Work takes up most of your time now, so you haven’t been able to explore the city as much as you would like, but you can already tell your decision to make Vancouver your new home was a good one. The laid back and easy feeling you get from this city is completely different from the big east coast metropolis you had been living in before, and even though you’re working more than ever, you feel like you can actually breathe here.

Since your breakup with Owen your senior year at UND, you’ve taken time to take back your life. You try your best not to ponder on the past anymore, and you focus on your own future. It can’t be denied that at first it was hard not to remain bitter at the idea that you had so willingly given up many things in your life, for a boy who took them too eagerly. You worked through it though and took back your life by focusing on your own goals and working on furthering your own career. The past is the past now, and you were ready to start this new life in Vancouver.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing that.” Elias mocks at Brock as they step out of the elevator and into the lobby of Brock’s apartment building. Brock is sporting a bucket hat, and even though he knows Elias is joking, he wonders if he shouldn’t have just left the hat sitting on his kitchen counter. The two of them are bickering back and forth about their fashion choices, and Brock almost misses you as you walk past him. Almost. He recognizes you immediately even though your hair is longer, and your face doesn’t look so much like a kid’s anymore.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Brock extends his hand, hoping he doesn’t seem too nervous to the pretty girl he has just been introduced to. He’s a freshman, and a star on the UND hockey team, which kind of makes him North Dakotan royalty. Since starting college, he’s learned what to say and how to say it, to get a girl’s attention, but he’s not the overly confident guy that his friend, Nick is. Nick lays it on thick and loves the attention he gets. Brock likes it, it’s fun, but he’s more laid back, and not as worried about getting the girl. He just likes to have a good time with his friends and doesn’t really need all of the extra attention.

He would however like to have your attention. He makes some friendly conversation with you over the course of the night, but you stick close to your girlfriends, and he can’t tell if you’re not interested or if you just aren’t catching what he’s putting down.

Later that night, when Nick tells Brock that he is going to walk you and your roommate home, he’s quick to tag along. Even though he lives in the same building, he probably would have stayed at the party a little longer if you hadn’t been going with them. On the walk across campus, the four of you make some small talk, and Brock knows that Nick definitely thinks he’s getting laid tonight.

Brock can’t help but hope that Nick getting laid will mean you will need a hideout for a couple hours while your roommate occupies your shared room. Even though he’d happily accept it, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting laid. Brock just hopes that he’ll have some time to get to know you a little bit better, maybe get your number, and then eventually ask you out. It’s right then that Nick asks why they’ve never met you.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie replies, and Brock can’t help but be disappointed. You had a boyfriend. So it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, well it was, but it was only because you were already taken. Maybe you had even caught on to his light flirting, and he can’t help but think how embarrassing that is.

This embarrassment honestly wasn’t as bad as what was to come next. Brock isn’t sure if his secondhand embarrassment is worse than the embarrassment that you’re probably feeling as the guy, who is presumably your boyfriend, yells at you for going to a party. He can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, you’re definitely uncomfortable with scene that is unfolding. Brock isn’t sure what to do, and him and Nick exchange a few quick glances as to say, “what the fuck?” And next, he’s incredibly thankful that Maggie steps in to tell you that they’re going to head into the building.

“What the fuck was that?” Nick asks as the three of them get out of earshot from you and Owen.

“Meet Owen, the illustrious high school boyfriend.” Maggie’s sarcasm is clear, and Brock is surprised that someone who seems so sweet could be dating a guy like that.

That hockey party his first semester at UND was the last time Brock spoke to you. He left after his sophomore year when he signed with the Canucks and before he left, when he would see you on campus, you were usually with the jerk he only briefly encountered that first night. When you would pass him in the hallway of your dorm or even around campus you would usually avoid meeting his eye or offer one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles. Brock would always smile back, and he would wonder if you were actually happy with that guy, and occasionally he would tell himself that he could make you happier.

You felt bad as you essentially avoided him for the first few weeks after that party, but it got easier as time went on. The two of you barely knew each other, but for some reason every time that you did pass him, you were still enamored by his kind eyes and generous smile that only made you feel worse for avoiding him. Over time your friends, like Maggie, would eventually fall to the waste side too as your boyfriend continued to control your life. Maggie stopped asking you to hang out and when you moved in with Owen after your freshman year, you basically lost all connection with her. Everyone probably thought that you were a massive bitch because they perceived your actions as you choosing your boyfriend over them. They weren’t wrong, but you didn’t know at the time, that your priorities were extremely misguided.

Brock’s little crush was soon forgotten when he dove headfirst into the NHL. He was busy trying to establish himself in the league, and he found himself in a few lackluster relationships that usually ended in a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t working. He was a good guy, and even though he wasn’t a saint, he preferred to get to know a girl and take her to dinner before anything else. The girls he dated usually fell pretty hard for him. He’s unmistakably attractive and his endearing personality make him incredibly charming. They knew that they couldn’t hold on to him forever and that he didn’t want to hurt them, so they let him go and hoped that they would find another guy that was half as good.

Seeing you now is like a breath of fresh air for Brock; his little crush immediately rising to the surface after being buried away for so long.

“Y/N?” Brock lightly touches you on your arm to get your attention. You’re lost in the email you’re replying to on your phone, and you’re more than surprised when you turn to see the same light blue eyes that you met your freshman year of college.

“Brock?” It’s the only thing that your brain can formulate right now. Brock Boeser is probably the only person you know in Vancouver and yet he’s standing in front of you right now. You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and you can’t believe that he even remembers you.

“Hey, I thought that was you.” Brock says, as Elias notices the big smile that’s plastered across his friend’s face. “What are you doing in Vancouver?” Brock asks, wondering how a girl from the east coast who went to school in North Dakota, somehow ended up in Vancouver.

“I um- I live here. I just moved for my job a couple months ago,” You tell him.

“Oh, no way! Vancouver’s great, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” He replies, still taking in the fact that you’re standing in front of him.

“Yeah, I like it so far,” you say. “Do you live here? – Or I guess, in the building?” You ask. You know that he lives in Vancouver, you’re aware of his hockey career, but you’ve lived here for a couple months and have never seen him around.

“Yeah, I’ve been back in Minnesota for most of the summer, so I just got back a couple days ago.” He tells you. You never really put much thought into where athletes go after their season ends, but it makes sense that they would go back to wherever they call home.

Elias nudges Brock to remind him that he’s still standing awkwardly beside him. “Oh, this is Petey,” Brock turns to introduce you to his friend that you already recognize, “It’s Elias, nice to meet you.” Elias says as he offers his hand to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You let out a light laugh and think about all of the Vancouver Canucks posters you’ve seen him on throughout the city. You’ve seen posters of Brock too, but you barely even know the guy, so it’s never really struck you as anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you a Canucks fan?” Elias asks.

You laugh a little, “Oh, no. I don’t follow hockey or really any sports, but everyone at work does, so I’ve been trying to learn a bit about it to keep up with the water cooler conversations.” You laugh again because it’s true. You’ve never really been tuned into sports, but your new office is basically all men, and they’re all huge Canucks fans, so your google searches of the team’s stats and roster have helped you become familiar with the team before their season starts.

“Well, you’ll have to come to a game some time.” Brock tells you.

“Um yeah. Maybe.” You offer back, mentally debating on if that would ever actually happen, but knowing that he’s only being polite. “I um- I’ve actually got to go, but it was great running into you.” You smile, and say goodbye to the two blonde boys and make your way up to your apartment.

Brock Boeser lives in your building. Again. You laugh, thinking about how funny it is that history is repeating itself. He’s just as cute as he was the first time you met, but the truth is you barely know each other, and you’re sure he remembers that you were probably a massive bitch in college who avoided him at all costs. You don’t let the thought of him linger too long and push it to the side to get on the realities of your life instead of continuing to mull over the past.

Over the next month or so, you continue to run into Brock in the elevator or in the lobby of your building. He always says hi and greets you with the same sweet smile. You make polite conversation and he’s so charming sometimes that it makes you blush. It starts off with awkward hellos and goodbyes, then you start to make small talk, and soon enough conversation between the two of you becomes pretty effortless. His little jokes are usually so dumb, but they make you laugh and you truly appreciate that he’s always so nice. You start to open up a bit more and aren’t as hesitant when he asks you innocent questions about your life.

You got to meet Coolie and Milo the other day, and Brock says that they are particularly fond of you. They both seem to be the sweetest dogs in the world, so you’re sure they’re just as good for everyone else. You see them ever so often when Brock takes them on walks around town, and he loves the way your eyes light up when you see his furry kids.

Brock usually asks you how work is going, even though your advanced corporate job goes way over his head, and you ask him about hockey, which you also have little to no knowledge of. You both usually give short and uninteresting answers like “great” or “it’s going.” Then, just as Brock is trying to find more ways to get to know you, you tell him that you’ve been trying to educate yourself more on hockey. You explain that you primarily work with men, and these men happen to be very keyed in on the sport and particularly on the Vancouver Canucks. Now, every time he sees you, he asks you what you’ve learned.

Your conversations are still fairly short, but you tell him when you’ve finally learned all of the NHL team names, and understand each of the hockey positions. You explain some of the penalties and you’re pretty proud of yourself when your explanation of offsides gets an approval. When he asks you who you’ve decided your favorite player is, you tell him you like “that Boeser kid,” but not as much as you like Elias Pettersson. This gets a big laugh from him, and he tells you he doesn’t disagree with your analysis. This is a turning point for the two of you. Brock can tell that you’re becoming more comfortable with him, and he likes seeing this lighter side of you.

One day when you pass him in the parking lot, he’s on his way to a game, dressed in suit, but with a beanie on his head. You’ve seen him like this a number of times before, and you really don’t understand why he insists on covering up his beautiful hair with various hats. You also don’t mind admiring how good he looks in his game day apparel. He’s good looking, and it’s not a crime to admire that.

As you walk toward each other in the parking lot he calls out to you, “Hey, you learn anything new this week?” You laugh, because he usually starts the conversation like this, asking if you’ve studied up or done your homework.

“Actually, I have a question for you.” You tell him as you come up, stopping before you would pass each other.

“Okay, shoot.” He says.

“Well, that’s actually your job, but my question has to do with goalie interference. I just don’t really understand it. I was trying to find videos of calls during games, but all of the calls seem kind of inconsistent.” You tell him, and he laughs at your shooting joke, leaving you feeling proud for a moment. He’s also laughing because you’re right. No one fucking knows what goalie interference is.

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what goalie interference is half the time. But if you figure it out let me know!” He answers. You laugh, and the two of you begin to part ways.

Before he makes it to his car you shout back, “Oh, Good luck tonight!”

He smiles and thanks you before opening his car door and on his way to the rink he thinks about all of the little conversations the two of you have had over the course of last couple of months. His crush has only continued to grow, and Elias keeps nagging him to ask you out, but he’s not even sure if you’re single. With his luck, you’re probably married to that asshole from college, although he hasn’t noticed you with anyone and he hasn’t seen a ring on your finger.

After that night Brock decided he needed to figure out if you were single or not, so that he could move on from his infatuation with you instead of wasting his time pining over a girl who was already taken. You’re always polite, and more recently you’ve become more and more comfortable joking and bantering with him, but sometimes you give him a look like you’re not sure what to say.

That look is the look you get when you contemplate how you got here. Years ago, you couldn’t have fathomed having a simple conversation with Brock, but now you see him on a regular basis and make conversation like you’ve been friends for years. You appreciate his willingness to talk with you, and you enjoy your interactions more and more every day.

Brock knows that on Sunday morning you usually go for a walk down to the coffee shop on the corner, so today he grabs Coolie and Milo and heads for the door, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to run into you. He makes it all the way to the coffee shop without seeing you and he’s praying that when he opens the door to the store that you’ll be waiting inside.

No such luck.

When he doesn’t see you standing inside, he decides he should at least buy a coffee instead of awkwardly walking out. After he picks up his drink he walks across the street to the park so that Coolie and Milo can get some exercise. For some reason, the gods are on his side today, and a few minutes into his walk he sees you sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book.

He doesn’t get to secretly admire how pretty you look sitting there, with the sun streaming down through the limbs of the trees, because Milo and Coolie have spotted you and are actively dragging him in your direction. You’re stirred from your reading and when you look up you see two big fur balls running toward you, their owner not far behind them.

“Hey! Sorry about them.” Brock apologizes as he tries to calm the dogs down. You’re laughing and smiling because Coolie has jumped up on the bench beside you. Brock tells them to get down as they continue to try and jump for your attention, and they eventually settle at his side.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way when I see them,” you say, and it gets a light chuckle from Brock. He loves that you get so excited to see them and he cherishes the way your eyes light up when you reach down to pet them. He’s not sure what to say now, and before the silence gets too awkward you ask him if he wants to sit while motioning to the spot next to you. He gladly accepts your offer, and he sits down next to you.

“What are you reading?” He asks, attempting to facilitate some conversation.

You turn over the book in your hand so that he can see the cover, “It’s called Normal People.” You say before giving him a brief description. You also tell him it’s a series on Hulu and he says he’ll opt to watch that instead of reading the book, earning another laugh from you.

“So, did you leave the boyfriend behind or did you bring him with you?” He asks referring to some of the plot points of the book you had described to him. The question surprises you because one, there wasn’t a boyfriend, and two, why would Brock think there was a boyfriend? Your mind works fast enough to figure he might think that you’re still with Owen, but over the last couple months you don’t think you’ve given him any reason to think you would still be with him.

“Neither I guess. I didn’t have a boyfriend to leave or bring.” You answer, looking over at Brock. You’re sure you almost hear what sounds like a sigh of relief from him, but it happened too quickly to tell.

“I guess you and that guy from college didn’t work out?” Brock asks cautiously. He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he’s dying to know what ever happened between you and that jerk.

You let out a light laugh as you think back to your previous relationship, “No, it definitely didn’t work out.” You say back. “We were obviously super young; we started dating when we were fifteen,” you sigh. “Anyway, I think it just took some time to realize I wasn’t going to marry a guy I thought was cute in my 9th grade biology class. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore. And he turned out to be a total jerk.” It feels surprisingly easy talking to Brock about this. You’ve felt so much shame and embarrassment for staying with this guy from high school for so long, but Brock’s eyes don’t convey any judgement or reason to feel ashamed.

After that you gracefully shift the conversation to Brock’s love life. It was only fair, and when you asked him if he had a special lady- or man in his life, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It isn’t because you asked him if he was perhaps seeing a man, but because he was just so flustered by you and your questioning of his love life at all.

“Nope. No ladies... Or men for that matter.” He says with a little laugh.

“Really? A star hockey player like you doesn’t have girls lined up waiting for their chance to be with you?” You tease, as you can see, he’s still blushing a bit. You don’t think much of it, other than that he’s probably just shy about those things, but you don’t really feel too bad about teasing him. He continues to convince you that there aren’t any other ladies in his life, and eventually the topic of conversation is forgotten.

Brock walks back to the apartment building with you, and when you get in the elevator you remember that you’re going to be attending a Canucks game next week, “I almost forgot! I’m going to the Preds game next week!” You tell him, and his expression lights up hearing you say that you’ll be attending one of his games. “Some of the guys from work invited me to go with them. I think I’ve really won them over with my new hockey knowledge,” You tell him proudly.

Some of the guys from work who are particularly invested in the hockey team invited you to come with them to a game, and you happily accepted the invitation. You had proven yourself to them as a colleague and now as a hockey fan too.

“I guess we’ll have to get a win for you guys.” Brock replies confidently. The Canucks have had a great record lately and it looks like their winning streak is just getting started. “You better!” You say before the elevator stops on your floor and you tell him you’ll see him later, leaving Brock to think about everything he’s learned about you that morning.

It’s Thursday, and this week has been hell.

Sadly, you’re used to dedicating most of your time to work, but this week has been a total shit show, for lack of better words. A big account you’ve been working on decided at the last minute that they wanted something completely different, causing you and your team to have to work some crazy hours this week. By Thursday you’re practically a zombie due to your lack of sleep. The hours you have spent at home have been minimal, as you’ve gotten home past ten almost every night this week, and you leave in the morning again before 7.

The guys on your team have all been working crazy hours too, but you’ve been taking the lead on this campaign, so you’ve made sure to be there early and late every single day. They can tell you’re just about out of gas, and they send you home early, telling you to rest up for the big presentation tomorrow. You try to argue, but they’re right, you need a break. You surrender and head home after stopping to get some takeout, knowing that your fridge at home is starkly empty.

“Ms.Y/L/N, I’ve got a package for you.” Paul, the concierge of your building tells you as you pass him on your way to the elevators. You haven’t made any online purchases as of late, and you don’t remember anyone telling you they were sending you anything. Still, you wait patiently as he goes to the back room to grab it. When Paul returns he’s holding a decent sized shopping bag. You’re not sure what it could be, but you take the bag and thank him, too focused on getting up to your apartment and out of your work pants.

As soon as the door to your apartment is closed behind you, you drop your bags onto the kitchen counter and slip out of your dress pants. Your bra follows shortly, and you settle into your couch with your take out. The rest of your evening is spent lounging on the couch, catching up on your shitty reality tv shows and taking a break from work. When you look down at your phone and see that it’s only 8:30 you tell yourself it’s too early to go to bed, but you’re exhausted and you bed is calling to you. As you gather your dishes and clean up your kitchen you’re reminded of the package you picked up on your way in.

The bag is still sitting on the counter where you left it a few hours ago. You take a minute to think about what it could be or who it could be from, but nothing comes to mind. When you open the bag all you see is some blue fabric. It feels like clothes, so you dump it over on to your counter and come to find that the bag is full of what looks like Vancouver Canucks gear. You’re in surprised to say the least. There are multiple pieces of clothing laying in front of you, and you’re sure it’s at least a few hundred dollars worth of apparel. There’s a note too, but you choose to look through the other contents first.

First off, there’s a navy blue hoodie with the classic Cancuks logo. There are two t-shirts, one has the Canucks throwback logo on it and the other has the pride logo printed on the front. You smile at that, knowing that he obviously knew you would like that one. Next, is a Canucks beanie with a pompom on the top. Finally, you unfold a royal blue jersey. You’re expecting to see a number six on the back but instead your eyes land on the number 40. You can’t help but feel a little sad for a minute, knowing he didn’t get you a jersey with his number on it.

Alas, you unfold the piece of paper that was sitting in the bottom of the bag and it reads:

I figured you might need some gear for the game Saturday. I hope everything fits okay.

If you ever need anything I’m Apt. 859, *his phone number*

-Brock

P.S. Petey insisted that I include his jersey since he’s “your favorite.”

You don’t feel as bad about it not being a Boeser jersey now, and you use a magnet to hang the note up on your fridge before folding your new gear and heading to bed, grinning ear to ear.

Your presentation goes off without a hitch the next day and you and your coworkers are ready to let loose a bit for the Cancuks game the following evening. You meet up with them at a bar that’s not far from the arena, and you grab a round of drinks before you head into the game. The four co-workers you meet up with take note of your Pettersson jersey, and you smile, satisfied with their praises. A couple of them are sporting jerseys too, one with Horvat and the other with a Boeser. You don’t mention that you know the guy who actually wears number 6, and when he scores the game winning goal you cheer just as loud as everyone else, but secretly you’d like to think it was because he knew you were there in the stands.

When you get home after the game you shoot Brock a quick text.

You: nice goal tonight! i think this pettersson jersey is lucky! (10:54pm)

You: this is y/n btw (10:54pm)

You’re not sure if he’ll reply so you set your phone down and start to go through your nightly routine. A few minutes later you hear your phone buzz from your night stand.

Brock: petey didn’t even score tonight and you’re still talking about him? maybe i’ll just take that jersey back (11:01pm)

You: hey, no take backs. but it was a very nice goal! (11:03pm)

Brock: how was your first game? (11:07pm)

You: my second favorite player scored, my team won, and my co-workers were impressed with my vast hockey knowledge so i’d say it went pretty well! (11:13pm)

You spend some time debating on how to word your message, not wanting to send a reply too fast, and not wanting to seem to flirty, but you still let yourself tease him a little bit more before hitting send.

Brock: HAHA. very funny. (11:14pm)

Brock: i’m glad you had a good time. (11:14pm)

Brock: we’ll have to get you to more games. it looks like you might be good luck. (11:15pm)

Sunday morning is your time to relax. You try not to do any work and opt to take some time for yourself. This can take many forms, like lounging around the house or even reorganizing your bathroom. Today you opt for baking. You bake a couple dozen brownies and place them in a container before slipping on some shoes to head up a few floors.

You hadn’t given it much thought until you were standing outside of his apartment door, but the two really only interact in the hallways or elevator and you’ve never been to each other’s apartments. The brownies in your hand are probably getting colder by the minute, and you know they taste the best when they’re still warm so you convince yourself to bring your knuckles to the door.

The person who answers the door isn’t Brock. The boy who answers is shorter and has dark hair. You recognize him as Quinn Hughes. Brock told you once that they call him huggy bear, but you’re not totally sure you know why.

“Uh-“ There aren’t words coming out of his mouth, it’s more like an awkward sound that you think it is meant to convey some sort of confusion.

“Um, Is Brock here?” You ask, offering a smile to the boy in front of you.

“Oh, yeah. Um, come on in.” Quinn doesn’t really know if he should be letting someone into his friends apartment, but Brock made him answer the door so he didn’t feel so bad about inviting a stranger in.

You walk through the door and take in Brock’s home. It’s similar to yours, but slightly bigger. He lives on a different side of the building so the windows are slightly different too. You follow Quinn into the living room where you see Elias and Brock and Jake Virtanen sitting on the couch playing video games. The dogs notice you first as you walk in and Quinn nudges Brock telling him someone is here for him before he turns around to see you.

“Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks as he stands from the couch.

“I uh, I just wanted to bring you these. I figured it’s the least I could do since you got me that lucky Pettersson jersey.” He lets out a solid laugh at that. You liked it when he laughed like that. He lets his head hang back and his hand rests on his stomach.

“Well thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” He says as you hand him the box of brownies. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the lid off. The smell of freshly baked brownies starts to fill the room, and the other boys are at the counter before you know it.

“Oh shit. Those look good.” Jake says as he eyes the baked goods.

The boys are quiet for the next couple minutes except for some humming and “yum” sounds that escape between bites. A couple dozen brownies is apparently no match for four hockey players. You swear half the box vanishes in front of your eyes as they compliment you on your baking abilities. You mentally thank your mom for the perfected family recipe that you practically have memorized. They make friendly conversation, besides Quinn who has remained rather quiet, except for offering a few side comments or sounds of agreement. Eventually Elias asks you more about how your first game hockey game went.

Elias is observant and incredibly well spoken, and he’s making what could have been an awkward situation a very pleasant one. He guides most of the conversation as Brock becomes more comfortable with the dynamic of you being there with his other friends. It’s cute how close Brock and Elias are. Even just standing in the kitchen you can tell the two of them have a bond that’s different than the ones between the other boys. Brock is sometimes shy and blushy when the two of you talk, but with his friends he’s more bold and sure of himself.

The small talk is getting thin, and you’re about to politely end the conversation and tell them you should go when Jake asks how you and Brock know each other. You don’t know why you hesitate, but you do, and you look at Brock who is standing next to you. Before you can decide how to answer Brock replies simply, “We went to UND together back in the day.”

“I guess we don’t really know each other very well, but we had some mutual friends.” You try to add and clarify.

“Oh cool,” Jake replies, not really giving it much thought. “So are you liking the city so far?” he asks.

“I like it a lot , I just haven’t had a lot of free time outside of work to explore. But, my co-workers finally like me since I know all about hockey now, and the one girl in our office is my best and only friend!” You laugh at yourself a bit, because you know it sounds a little sad that you’re a young twenty-something with zero signs of a social life. It earns some laughs from the guys too.

“You should come out with us next weekend, you gotta experience Vancouver’s night life! Plus, we’re celebrating my dog’s birthday!” Jake exclaims, and you can see Elias rolling his eyes and Brock and Quinn are both laughing while shaking their heads.

You look between the boys, a bit confused, “Your what? Your dog’s birthday?”

Jake laughs too when you seem so confused about it, “It seemed like a good excuse to go out. Gotta keep it loose, ya know?” He seems serious about this and you can’t help but laugh. The guys explain that they don’t get out too often during the season, and some of them don’t even like going out, but sometimes it’s good to just let loose with the boys. Jake is one who particularly enjoys a good night out, and so occasionally when the boys haven’t frequented a bar in a while, he comes up with “reasons to celebrate.” Elias sounds like a dad when he says that they all just go along with it to make Jake happy, and Jake looks like a little kid when he rolls his eyes at them. He’s also quick to make the point that they always end up having a good time.

“You obviously don’t have to come, but I think it’ll be fun, and you should bring your friend. Her name’s Jade, right?” You’ve talked to Brock about Jade a couple times in the past, but you didn’t really think he would have listened that intently or that he would remember your co-workers name. It’s nice knowing that he does.

“Yeah, it’s Jade. I guess I could ask her if she’s free and let you know.” You tell him, still contemplating if you even want to go out to some busy club on a Saturday night.

“So, uh— What are you doing this weekend?” You ask Jade, your co-worker as you walk into her office. She’s the only other girl in your office, and you’ve become good friends over the last few months. Her dark hair and dark features match her bold and strong personality. Jade constantly bugs you to get out more, especially on the weekends, but you usually curb her requests saying that you’re still getting settled into the new city. This excuse was wearing thin since you’ve been here almost four months now, and you knew you would have to give in to her requests soon. Instead, you’ve opted to invite her to go out with Brock and his friends this weekend. Or rather, pray she would go with you because there was no way you were going alone.

“I don’t know, probably nothing because my friend is a loner who doesn’t ever leave her house.” Jade looks over at you with a knowing expression causing you to roll your eyes.

“Your loner friend actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out this weekend.” You say mimicking her cadence. “That guy from college who lives in my building is celebrating his friend’s dog’s birthday, so him and some of their friends are all going out.” When you explain why Brock’s friends are going out you realize again just how ridiculous it sounds, and you know it’s not really why they’re going to a bar to get hammered, but you relay the information anyway.

You told Jade about “the guy from college” that you had run into in your apartment building, but you didn’t tell her that the guy was Brock Boeser. You were sure she knew who he was, even if she wasn’t shy with her discontent with sports. She’s just not a sports person, but anyone in Vancouver would immediately recognize the name of one of their biggest players. All you told her was that you had gone to UND together and that you had never really been friends, just that you had mutual friends.

She never asked more about who he was, but she did ask if he was cute. You couldn’t lie, it would be sinful to do so about a man who was as good looking as Brock, so you told her the truth. You also told her how good of a guy he was and that he never hesitates to start a conversation with you. Since then, she has asked for regular updates on your interactions together. Even though you withheld some crucial information, you still told her about how he liked talking about hockey and that he had gotten you some Canucks gear to wear to the game. When you told her about that she insisted that he liked you, and part of you wanted to believe that, but another part of you knew that you and Brock still barely knew each other.

He seems really sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he still has plenty of girls vying for his attention. Girls who are prettier and smarter and nicer than you. When you think back to those brief interactions with him it still gives you a feeling of anxiety. It’s the kind of anxiety that you get when you remember something embarrassing you did as a kid or when you’re trying to fall asleep and you remember that you said “you too” to the barista who said “come again!” Either way, you weren’t convinced that your limited interactions warranted any feelings on either of your parts, so you continued to try to suppress your growing feelings for him.

Luckily, Jade was happy to oblige your request of going out. She asked if your friend had any cute single friends, and while you weren’t quite sure if they were single, you said yes figuring that one of them had to be.

“Y/N, It’s me!” You hear Jade come in through your apartment door that you had left unlocked for her. It’s Saturday night and you’re getting ready to go out with Brock and his teammates. You still haven’t told Jade who he is, and you’re hoping she doesn’t freak out when she finds out.

“I’m in my closet!” You shout back to Jade as she makes her way through your apartment. She finds you sitting inside your walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear, “I’m having a crisis. I have no idea what I should wear.” You look over at her precisely curated outfit that’s perfect for a night out. She looks hot and it’s just enough to not be overdone. He hair is flawlessly sleek and her make up looks like an artist painted it on.

“Stop moping. You’re just nervous because he’s cute and you like him. Go make us some drinks and I’ll pick out your outfit.” You don’t put up a fight, knowing that she’ll probably be able to piece together a great ensemble that you never would have thought of. Your strengths were probably better suited for making cocktails anyway, so you go to the kitchen and whip up a couple of drinks.

On your way back to your room you turn on your “going out” playlist that hasn’t been touched in ages, and when the first drop of alcohol touches your tongue you automatically feel less anxious. She’s right, you totally have a crush on this guy, and you’re super nervous about going out with him and his friends. What’s worse, is that this was pretty much a pity invite, and him and his friends feel bad that you don’t know anyone else in the city.

Brock’s night was going somewhat similarly to yours. When Elias got to his apartment for the pregame he found Brock standing in only his boxers with a pile of clothes covering his closet floor. Elias couldn’t help but laugh at him. He hasn’t seen Brock act this way about a girl in a long time. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure if he’s ever seen Brock act like this. Brock was sensitive, but he wasn’t anxious like this. He wouldn’t get tied up in things like what to wear or what to say to a girl. He did however, have the issue of falling way too hard way too fast, ending up in situations where girls left him after they got what they wanted. Over the years he’s learned how to guard his heart a bit better, and his friends, Elias especially, were always there to protect him.

Elias likes you. He liked you the minute he met you. He was intuitive and was a good judge of character, which made him and Brock a good pair. Brock has a tendency to trust a little too much, but now Elias is there to help guide him toward the right people. When Brock introduced you to Elias, he could immediately tell that you were a good person. He could see it in your eyes, and in your genuine appreciation that Brock would recognize and say hello to you. Elias liked that you were sprightly enough to make a joke about knowing who he was. Most of all, he liked how Brock talked about you. Elias immediately recognizes when Brock has had a conversation with you before practice or a game. He comes in with a little pep in his step, that causes some of the guys to question if he got laid the night before, but now Elias recognizes that he must have seen you on his way to work. Brock gushes about your interactions and about how cute you are when you explain the hockey things you learn. The day that you told him Elias was your favorite player Brock was so excited to tell him. He wasn’t even mad, he just loved how light hearted willing to joke around you were.

Brock occasionally thinks back on the times he saw you after that first night at UND. He thinks about what would have happened if your boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for you outside of your dorm. It’s not that he thinks he would have gotten lucky or that you would have cheated on your boyfriend with him, it’s just that maybe if you had had a bit more time to get to know each other you could have at least become friends. And maybe that friendship could have grown into something more and you would have broken up with that asshole to be with him. Brock thinks about what could have been, but he also knows that hindsight is 20/20. He doesn’t consider himself a superstitious guy, but he can’t help but think that you came to Vancouver for a reason.

When your wardrobe crisis has been averted, you’re fully dressed in skinny jeans and a cute top that’s revealing enough but doesn’t exactly come right out and say “I want to have your babies right now.” (That’s how Jade described it, anyway.) The two of you have had a round of drinks and you decide that it’s probably an appropriate time to head up to Brock’s. You didn’t want to get there too early and be the only ones there, so you made Jade wait it out in your apartment until it was at least thirty minutes after the time he had said to come.

Brock texted you letting you know the door was unlocked, and when you get out of the elevator you can already hear music playing from behind his door. “I can already feel it. This is going to be fun!” Jade tells you excitedly as you reach out for the doorknob. You laugh thinking about how she has no idea she’s about to be drinking with a bunch of professional hockey players for the night.

When you open the door you see some of the guys you’ve met mulling about, most of them with drinks in their hands. Brock comes up to you almost immediately. Without even thinking he wraps you in a hug, and it feels so natural even though you’ve never had any sort of physical interaction with him. Your suspicions were right, he gives the best hugs, and you wish that you could stand there in his warm arms forever, but it only lasts a second before he’s pulling away and turning his attention to your friend who looks likes she’s surprised to see Brock Boeser hugging her coworker and Elias Pettersson coming up behind him to say hello.

“Okay, you didn’t tell me that “your friend” was Brock fucking Boeser.” She doesn’t even try to whisper it, and it’s kind of what you love about her. She just expresses herself freely, and it’s honestly so funny when she says it. It has Brock’s head falling back as he lets out a laugh.

Brock and Elias introduce you and Jade to the other guys who are in the apartment. There are a couple girlfriends among them and even though they all look like they just walked out of an instagram ad, they all seem genuinely nice and aren’t nearly as intimidating as you thought they would be. You don’t get too much time to mingle before Jake informs the group that the “birthday party” is ready to move to the bars, followed by packing into various Ubers.

When you’re all at the bar, a few other guys show up, some single and definitely ready to mingle, but to your surprise some have even brought their wives. The drinks are flowing and you’re actually having fun. You notice that Jade and Jake have spent a lot of time talking, and he offers to get her a drink before they head off to the bar. You laugh, and shake your head as she turns back to give you wink before heading off with the hockey player.

You turn your attention back to the guys standing around the table, when one of them asks you, “So, how do you two know each other? I feel like somebody said you went to UND?” It’s Brandon Sutter, you didn’t recognize him when Brock first introduced you, seeing as most of the photos you’ve seen of him include a hockey helmet covering most of his face. It’s probably the alcohol— no, it’s definitely the alcohol that has you responding to his question, “Yeah, we went to UND together, but we didn’t really hang out or anything, I think everyone just thought I was massive bitch.” You laugh, but you can see some confusion setting in on Brock’s expression. Brandon laughs too, not thinking much of what you said.

“What do you mean?” Brock asks. He never thought of you that way back in college. He knew that guy you dated was jerk. He dimmed your light, and that wasn’t your fault.

“I don’t know, I just figured you guys all thought I was kind of a bitch because I just hung out with my boyfriend all the time.” You don’t really know what else to say, thinking back to those days where you would follow Owen around like a lost puppy.

“I don’t think anybody thought that, we just thought your boyfriend was dick.” He says, and before you can say anything else he adds, “No offense. He just didn’t seem like he treated you very well. That night he yelled at you in front of the dorm when he found out you went to our party left a pretty bitter taste in my mouth.”

“Sounds like a dick, to me.” Quinn says matter-of-factly. You’re sure it’s the alcohol for him too, he’s been more talkative in the last hour than he has been in the two other times you’ve seen him.

“Yeah, he was.” You answer back.

“So I guess you’re not still dating this guy, are you?” Brandon asks. You can feel sets of eyes all resting on you now, like you’re about to reveal a big secret.

“No no, we broke up right before senior year of college. I dated a little in grad school, but when I found out I was moving to Canada I didn’t really bother with trying to find boyfriend.” You tell them, as they nod in response.

The rest of the night isn’t as serious. Jade and Jake tear up the dance floor, and when she nudges you to signal she’s leaving with him you tell her to wrap before she taps it, earning a laugh and wave goodbye. Brock stays by your side the entire night, neither of you wanting to join the others dancing. His arm stays perched on the back of the booth you’re in, while you listen to JT tell some elaborate story from their recent road trip.

When Brock sees you yawn for the third time in a row he asks if you’re ready to head home. “Yeah, I’m tired. I’ll probably just head home soon.” You think he might offer to go back with you, but you don’t want to assume. Instead of yelling over the loud music he just nods and pulls out his phone. He tells the boys that you’re both heading out and they all say goodbye before Brock nudges you out of the booth.

On the car ride home he asks you what you thought of the boys, laughing when your first response is that there are just so many of them. “It’s like trying to keep track of puppies. They’re there one second and then they’re off doing something else the next,” You laugh at yourself thinking about how many of them probably have undiagnosed ADHD, or maybe some of them are diagnosed. “But it’s cute, you guys are like a little family.” This earns one of those genuine Brock Boeser smiles. He’s proud of his little family. He loves them all, and he’s glad that you like them because he can tell they like you too.

That night out leads to a few more texts back and forth, and eventually to full on conversations that go one for days at a time. One night he asked what you were doing and you told him you were going to watch the Battle of Alberta game. You had heard a lot about this rivalry since you embarked on your hockey education, and you figured you should see what all the hype was about. To your surprise, Brock asked if he could join you, and the two you spent the night watching hockey from your couch.

You hadn’t watched a game this intense before, and when Matthew Tkachuk drops his gloves to fight Zack Kassian, Brock can tell you’re on edge. You knew there were fights in hockey, and you had watched a few clips on youtube, but it seemed more real watching it in realtime. You wondered what it would be like to see something like that in person. As the two players are ushered off the ice, you can’t help but wonder if Brock would ever find himself in a situation like that, and when you ask him if he ever fights during games he chuckles a bit before he answers, “No, I’m not really the fighting type. I think it’s better for everyone if I leave that up to guys like Zack and Jordie.”

You’re not totally convinced by this, and you don’t like that the thought of Brock in a fight makes you feel so sick. He can sense your hesitation and he wants to try to ease your mind, “When fights like that break out, it’s usually because both players have agreed to it. You can see that they’re talking right before, they’re asking each other if they want to do it.” He narrates as the fight replays on your TV. “Occasionally someone will still throw a punch even if the other guy says no, but that’s not common. It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you have to stand up for your team, so most guys who are asked will fight, but I’m not usually the guy in that position. I haven’t fought once in the NHL, and I plan to keep it that way. I’d get rag-dolled by both of those guys.” He says pointing back to where the players now sit in their respective boxes.

It’s nice to know that Brock hasn’t fought anyone before, but you still worry about him getting hurt. What if he was the one who got caught by a bad hit? You can’t keep thinking about things you can’t control, so you try your best to shift your attention back to the game.

You and Brock find yourselves in each others apartments more often after that. The two of you will make dinner and watch a game, or just watch TV for the night. Occasionally you walk down to the coffee shop on the corner together or walk over to the park with Coolie and Milo. You’ve started to become friends, and you feel like Brock is letting you get to know him more and more everyday. The conversation is easier, and the flirting is probably more noticeable than either of you thinks it is. Your positions on the couch have drifted from opposite sides of the couch to having your thighs touching while his arm sits, resting behind you across the back of the couch. He always greets you with a big hug, and lately you’ve noticed his arms lingering around your body a little bit longer than the time before

He hasn’t made a move yet, and you haven’t either. You think that maybe he just isn’t interested in getting closer, and you’re admittedly too self-conscious to try to make a move yourself. Tonight os just like any other night that the two of you spend together but you don’t notice that Brock is pretty far gone in his thoughts. That may be because you’re lost in your own as well. A few minutes later his voice brings you back to reality, “Are you okay?” You look up from where you’ve been staring down at the wine glass in your hand. You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, and he’s standing on the other side of the island looking back at you. You tell him you’re fine but you can see that he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“You know you’re like a really good guy, right?” You ask him, after taking another sip of wine.

He smiles back at you with a bit questioning in his eye, “I mean I’d like to think that I’m not too bad.” He says back.

“No, Brock. You’re like really good. You help old ladies at the grocery store, and you talk about your nephew like he’s your own kid, and you’re nice to me when you really don’t have to be.” You try to tell him just how genuinely good he is. You wish you could explain it more eloquently and you wish you could show him how good of heart he has.

“That just sounds like normal people stuff,” he replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

He would say something like that, and think that normal people were just as nice as he is, and maybe they were, but the people that you’ve met throughout your life have somewhat tainted that idea for you.

“I think maybe you don’t realize how good you are.” He says back, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re a good person, and just because I knew you back when you dated some jerk in college, doesn’t mean that it has any impact on how I feel about you now.” He’s so serious in this moment, and not at all like the usual lighthearted guy you’re used to. Somehow he knew just where your insecurities laid. He’s so genuine and honest sometimes that it hurts and the butterflies you feel in your stomach are getting harder and harder to ignore.

The two of you don’t talk much for the rest of the night, and instead settle in a comfortable silence while Brock catches up on the episodes of Gossip Girl that Elias watched without him. Brock isn’t paying attention to what is happening on his TV. His mind is way too busy thinking of what he’s going to do next. The guys have all been pestering him to get a move on, saying that he’ll miss his window of opportunity with you, and he knows that they’re right. If he’s lucky he hasn’t missed his opportunity yet, but if not, he might just be screwed.

He doesn’t even notice when his eyes shift away from the screen and move to rest on you. He’s taking his time, studying every feature, taking in every soft curve of your face. He loves the subtle crinkles on the sides of your eyes that deepen when you smile, and it’s even better when it happens because of something he said or did. If he could, he would make sure that smile stayed on your face for every second of the day. Your hair flows naturally without being fixed and he knows that you often let strands fall in front of your eyes when you’re too concentrated on your work or like now, when you’re invested in the show that you’re watching.

Without a thought, and on instinct alone, Brock slowly moves his hand up toward your face and softly tucks the strand of hair behind your ear. You’re a bit caught off guard at first, but you remain still as you feel his fingers linger on the side of your neck. Eventually you let your eyes meet his and you realize just how close you are to him. The two of you stay like that for a minute, staring at each other, taking each other in. It’s too easy to get lost in Brock’s ocean-like eyes, and you swear you hear the enchanting sound of waves crashing on a beach.

You’ve been staring at each other for what feels like too long, and you’re about to pull away when you feel Brock’s hand on the side of your face again. He’s slowly inching toward you and his eyes are still glued to yours. He’s searching for any source of panic or concern in your eyes, but he doesn’t find any. Your heart has taken over at this point and you can’t keep yourself away any longer, before you lean in and your lips finally meet his.

Kissing Brock feels like everything good in the world. It’s feels like the first time you road a bike or the first time you tasted ice cream. It’s new and invigorating and yet you feel totally safe and secure. Before you know it, you’re deepening the kiss and Brock lets you lead him to where you’re comfortable. It just so happens that you find comfort when you reposition yourself so that your legs are straddling his and his hands are resting on your hips. It’s only when your hips shift on top of him and he can’t help but let out a deep moan that also he makes himself pull away from you. It’s then when you start to panic, and think that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s realizing that now.

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this.” He says as he motions to the small space separating your bodies. “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing…” he mutters out, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and nervous that you won’t want the same thing.

“Brock, the only reason I wouldn’t want this is if you didn’t want it. But if you do, then I do too.” You say steadily. Brock smiles and it’s one of those big toothy smiles he only shares when he’s truly happy. You can’t say anything because you’re just as elated, so instead you lean down to kiss him again.

It’s only been a short six months since that night on Brock’s couch, but now you get to call his bed your own, and when you come home to your shared apartment you’re greeted by your beautiful blond boyfriend and your two dogs. Brock insists that you’re their adoptive mom now, and to make it official he bought the two of you matching hats that say “Dog Mom AF” and “Dog Dad AF.” You both wear them when you walk your fury kids together and even though you tell him you think they’re cheesy he knows that you love them.

Brock is somehow everything you need him to be. He’s strong when you’re not and he makes you laugh when you’re sad, but most of all he’s your steady companion. It’s crazy now, thinking back to when you met him. You were just a kid, barely out of high school, and you really hadn’t had the chance to think about what you actually wanted for your life.

Then you graduated, went to graduate school, and started to find out who you were without a boy to dictate the ins and outs of your life. When you were given the opportunity to move to Vancouver you saw it as a new beginning, but you didn’t realize that it was going to be a gift to more than one part of your life. Your work life and your career goals were finally falling into place and that just left one more thing—your love life. You had stopped worrying so much about finding a boyfriend along the way as you focused on yourself, but when Brock Boeser reentered your life you couldn’t ignore it.

Brock’s reemergence was a surprise to say the least, but now you both see that it was a gift of a second chance. When you first met, neither of you were ready for the kind of commitment you now share with each other, and you know now more than ever that those years with Owen and the years you spent alone were all worth it, because when history repeats itself you have the power to change the narrative.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl #canucks

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sunflovverharry · 4 years ago

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Nightcap - Harry Styles one shot

a/n: hello again I'm back with another one shot and this time it's bouncer!h which I'm so excited for!! I wasn't going to post this yet, but seeing as I won't get the next chapter of my fwb series out tomorrow I thought I'd give you this :)) If you like it, please like and reblog and also message me if you want to talk about bouncer!h or any of my other fics, enjoy xx (also I had no idea what to call this fic so ended up with nightcap but i don’t think i like it)

Pairing: Bouncer!h + y/n

Warnings: Language, alcohol, smut, mutual pining

Word count: 6k

Summer was over and junior year was right around the corner. Starting it off with a bang, y/n and her friends decided to go to Mike’s after pre-gaming, ending up pretty tipsy before heading out. The line wasn’t too bad, but it was clear a lot of college kids coming back this weekend had the same idea as you had. It was still warm outside and y/n had her favorite leather skirt on (knowing she’d regret the decision when she’s sweating on the dancefloor) and an off the shoulder ruffled white top. Thankfully she went with a pair of comfortable but trendy sneakers knowing she would most likely end up walking home after dancing the night away.

The group found themselves at the front of the line after only five minutes and y/n flicked through her little purse hanging off her shoulder to find her ID. When she found it her eyes went straight to the bouncer standing in a pair of tight black jeans and a t-shirt with the bar’s logo to the right along with a flashlight in his hand so he would be able to see the ID’s easier. His face wasn’t clear to see from the way he was looking down at someone else’s ID, but she could tell his face was clean from any stubble. She didn’t know how old - or young - he was, but nevertheless she was attracted to him.

When the person in front of her got checked y/n was already raising her hand to hand him her ID. It didn’t seem as if he’d noticed her in the line as his brows raised slightly before he caught himself and showed her a tight-lipped smile. He quickly took a look at the ID in hand before handing it back and letting her pass him with another small smile. No words exchanged between the two except the handful of shy, awkward smiles. Y/n had heard him say ‘thank you’ or ‘next’ so she took it that he was a bit too shy to get words out in case he’d fuck up before he could actually do something - just like her.

Y/n hadn’t managed to get him off her mind for the remainder of the night, continuously sneaking looks behind her to see if he was walking past or standing in the doorway. More often than not she couldn’t get a glance of him before he walked outside again to handle the line of people wanting to get inside before they close just to grab a beer or a couple shots before going home to someone for an afterparty.

Harry had himself been darting his eyes to where she had been sitting most of the night whenever he went to the toilet or changed assignments with other bouncers to check on how it’s going inside. Before she could catch him in his staring - caring more about making sure her silhouette will stick to his mind than kicking out the overly drunk people - he turned around to hide behind a wall or go outside again. He didn’t have the confidence to know she was looking back or to do anything about it if she caught him, instead wanting to hide from it - her.

The night was over for y/n around two in the morning, wanting nothing more than to go home and heat up the leftover pizza from her dinner and jump in the shower to wash off the sweat she’d worked up to while dancing. What happened wasn’t much different from her wishes, except for what happened in the shower. She was unable to get the bouncer off her mind, replaying her thoughts of how good he looked when she first saw him at the front of the line along with the smile he gave her. It led to her bringing her favorite dildo with a suction cup in the shower, attaching it to the wall so she could pretend she was getting pounded from the back - by the bouncer.

A month later Mike’s was the regular spot for y/n and her friends on every Tuesday - since there were no classes on Wednesdays - and Saturday - the usual party night. Harry worked almost every time they were there and after the third time of checking y/n’s ID he now let her walk straight inside the bar - her friends still had to show their ID though. He always gave her a smile while showing her she could go inside by moving his arm towards the door - y/n always saying a small ‘thank you’ with her smile getting bigger for every time he led her inside.

She badly wanted to catch his attention and get a conversation started, though not having a clue what to even say, ‘Hi, would you wanna go home with me?’. It would not only be embarrassing for her if she got turned down, but she also wouldn’t be able to show her face at Mike’s again. Maybe it’s a good thing she hasn’t made contact, not knowing how he is. Yes, she’d love a fuck, but not from a fuckboy who gets around with a different girl every weekend.

Weeks later October was in full swing and y/n was getting frustrated with how she and the bouncer - who she now knows as Harry after finally getting the courage to ask him what his name was just last week after downing a good couple vodka redbulls - still hadn’t gotten anywhere. Not that she knows he wants the same as her at all, but with how they act towards each other - smiles that have escalated to smirks and grins over time, small hi’s and how are you’s when they walk past each other during the night.

The third Tuesday of the month y/n was at the bar like usual with her friends. She had gone to the bar to order another beer and Harry slowly walked over when he saw her standing alone, wanting to spike a conversation though unsure of what he’d actually say. In his mind she was out of his league - a gorgeous figure with hips even he was jealous of, a university student (he’d figured out when she accidentally showed him her uni ID instead of her license the second time she went there), a tight knit group of friends she seemed close with and the most alluring and seductive shiny blue eyes he’s ever seen.

She didn’t seem like the type to be interested in a twenty-five year old bouncer who still doesn’t quite know what to actually do with his degree and lives in his parents basement. It’s not like he’s never moved out, but after a year out of uni and still not happy with his choice in career, he decided it was best to move back home and get a job there while figuring his life out. After three years he still isn’t sure where his life is taking him, but he’s sure it could be a lot worse.

Y/n noticed him creeping up beside her in the corner of her eye and thought this might be the one chance she had to get to know him and had to let go of her own insecurities about him not actually being interested. He’s been avoiding her it seems like for the past two months, only opening up the tiniest bit since the first small smile she got that august night so she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to get to know her, or fuck - which to be honest was most of what she was interested in.

“Hi stranger.” She was hoping for a smile back at least - maybe more if he felt courageous - but something in her told her she’d get more. Only a second later she got her answer.

“I guess we are strangers, with the exception that I know your birthday.” He saw the clear surprise on her face; was it from him replying in a full sentence or him remembering her birthday after only looking at her ID not even a handful of times? He wasn’t sure. Letting out a silent laugh before letting go of the shock of his sort of joke she took a sip of her beer as she pondered how she could respond with the hint that she wanted to get to know him a little bit at least.

“You want to grab a beer with me when your shift is over? We can play truth or truth.” She didn’t know how he’d react to her wanting to talk to him on what might seem a personal level. Hopefully he’d accept the offer and tell her he’d be back soon.

“Sure. If you want to meet here again in twenty I should be off the clock.” His smile was encouraging and it excited you that the first step was taken. If he only wanted their maybe coming relationship to be friendly then she’d deal, but there is no way she would be the one to turn him down.

Y/n nodded. They stared at each other intensely for a long time, their eyes locking and smiles couldn’t be fought off their faces as he started walking backwards until he finally broke contact and turned around going back to work. She was thrilled to have finally made contact, unsure of who to say took the first step really and eager to see him in a casual way when he’s not working, though they’re still at the place he works. Surely everyone knows him here and that made her sort of intimidated. They couldn’t run off or be completely alone because there would always be someone keeping their eye on him - other bouncers or bartenders.

Her friends had decided to call it a night only a couple minutes before she were to meet Harry again, so she found a stool at the bar and ordered two beers for them to indulge when he got back. The beers were sat in front of her only seconds before Harry made himself known with a soft hand to her shoulder. Turning around to get a look at who touched her, she was pleasantly surprised - Harry stood in his work clothes still and she didn’t quite know if she liked it or if she had hoped he’d wear something else. She was glad his arms were showing still, the tattoos a major part of what had her attracted to him in the first place.

From the moment Harry got a beer in him he seemed more relaxed and she even managed to get a boisterous laughter out of him once when she told him about a childhood story. Y/n found that his personality made her more attracted and interested in who this man was, hoping for a ‘yes’ when she asked if he’d like to come home with her.

She hadn’t had sex in a long time, knowing it would be useless when she wasn’t attracted to anyone. They wouldn’t make her cum and she would end up having to fake it. After a couple of times it got old and she figured making herself cum was fine until she found someone she liked. Harry was much like y/n in that aspect, though his last time wasn’t as long ago - more like a month compared to y/n’s eight. Neither spoke about it on the short walk home, their fingers connected as if they were a couple who had been on a date that went a little too far into the night. She told him her apartment might be a little messy as she hadn’t found a good outfit right away - to which Harry retaliates with a ‘you’ve looked amazing every time I’ve seen you at the bar’.

They hadn’t actually spent more than five minutes at the bar - enough to finish their beers - before heading out. It was clear they had the same intentions from when he said yes to coming home with her at three in the morning to when he connected their lips right as he heard the front door shut. Y/n couldn’t help but moan at the impact of her back hitting the door and his lips working hers with a fervor she’d never experienced before.

If the way his lips worked and his hands groped just the right places had anything to say for how he’d work in the bed, she wouldn’t have any complaints. Heavy breathing and moans from the both of them were loud before they got to her bed, laying her down beneath him and pulling her jeans down her legs while she pulled his shirt off him. They didn’t spend much time getting to know each other's bodies, but enough to figure out what the other liked and disliked. Harry found the spot between her neck and ear she mewled from when he kissed and y/n; the spot right beneath the laurels tattooed on his skin he shuddered from when she lightly grazed before reaching further down.

When he finally slid into her she arched her back and he closed his eyes trying to keep from busting already. It was quick and hasty and intense but they silently agreed that it was incredible and when they both came and it was over round two and three weren’t far between. There was no question of staying the night, y/n only lifting the sheets up and dragging him with her.

Y/n woke up to an empty bed - there was no Harry beside her or holding her like he had been when they fell asleep early in the morning. If this was a romance novel there might’ve been a note saying sorry for leaving her on ther fridge or something along those lines, but there was nothing. Almost like he wanted to forget it happened, but she couldn’t know what went through his mind at the time. It wasn’t like she could be angry or upset by him leaving without word either, not knowing him too well or having any relation to him except knowing him as a bouncer at her favorite bar.

Though what Harry did was a dick move, she didn’t want to tell anyone about their night (or morning), it was her memory to have alone. Part of it was because she knew they’d all see him again and there was no reason for her friends - or her - to be malicious towards him. From the small conversations she’s had with him and how shy he originally was, there is no way he had intentions to make her feel small. Or he put on a front for her to make her think he’s a good guy.

Y/n soon finds out there’s no reason to dwell on the subject, instead putting her head in a book to give herself away to a fantasy world where everything seems to be a little too perfect for her liking. Sure, she enjoys reading about a perfect world, but in the end she could never imagine it being her life. With her over-the-top parents and siblings that she barely speaks to; she’s glad she’s made it to university where she can care for herself only (and her friends, but mainly herself).

****

After two weeks away from Mike’s, y/n is back with her friends, ready to get so far gone she won’t remember how she got home. Yes, it’s been one of those weeks for her - absolutely awful with a breakdown over midterms at least once every day. Already having had a few beers at home, she was starting to feel it when they got to the line. She wasn’t trying to look for if Harry was standing at the front checking ID’s like she normally would do. Tonight was about letting loose and having fun with her friends - if Harry wanted to talk he could initiate it.

Harry wasn’t at the front of the line ready to let her through without seeing her ID, just like every other time, this time it was someone new who looked at every single ID for a little longer than necessary y/n thought. Finally getting inside the bar, they grabbed the closest table to the bar that wasn’t already occupied.

Our first round of drinks that consisted of cocktails, beers and shots for everyone was quickly over. Most of them downed the shot before our drink of choice wanting to get smashed as quickly as possible making the night end rather quickly (with some of the group getting kicked out most likely). The group weren’t known to get kicked out, but when they had the mindset of getting absolutely plastered it was definitely happening. Y/n hoped Harry wouldn’t see it if it ended up being her getting told to leave - if he was there that is.

Hours later the clock had barely hit midnight and y/n had taken one shot too much for her to be sane any longer. Her thoughts of leaving Harry alone and making him be the one to contact her if he wanted went out the window and she was on a mission to get him alone - mostly to ask if he’d wanna come home with her again because she was horny. In times where she was this horny there was no way she wouldn’t do anything about it, either finding a man to satisfy her (which seldom happened) or getting her toys out to make her come (which always worked).

She had seen Harry doing his round to check if anyone needed a talking to or get kicked out not too long ago and she hoped he was still walking the floor as it’s much harder to get him to herself if he’s checking ID’s. She pretended to walk towards the toilets but her eyes didn’t stop flickering about to see if Harry was in sight hoping to catch his curls above everyone dancing.

If she’s being honest, it wasn’t hard noticing him - hands in his pockets and brows furrowed in concentration to see if everyone is still doing alright - standing by the lower left corner, only a few meters from the toilets. She walked toward him with determination and it was easy doing so because he hadn’t noticed her yet and it was clear her liquid courage was helping some.

“So.. were you going to talk to me?” Harry only noticed her when she started talking, way too distracted by looking at the people on the dancefloor. It didn’t necessarily surprise him that she took initiative to talk to him and to be quite frank, he wasn’t sure he had the nerve to start up a conversation with her. Of course, he wanted to talk to her to explain why he left her the morning after they had sex, but after she didn’t show up at the club for two weeks he thought she was angry with him. Maybe she still is and he is not one for confrontation.

“I was going to, but then you didn’t show up here for a while so I thought you didn’t want to talk.” He forced his eyes to stay on hers while waiting for her to say something. It was nerve wracking, but if they were to continue bumping into each other at the club he didn’t want there to be any conflict between them - no matter how big or small it is.

“I’m not mad, just wanted to get everything out in the open I guess. I mean, I get that we were just hooking up, trust me I’m not looking to date you, but it’d be nice to have some mutual agreement even if it was a one time thing or if it happens again - which I won’t be opposed to if I’m honest.” The wicked smile on her lips told him she was thinking back to that night just over two weeks ago where their bodies touched and longed for the others. It was a good fuck, he admits as he, too, thought back to their night spent together in her bed.

“Okay. If you want to wait until I’m done at around two we can do a repeat of it?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, eyes widening at the forwardness he usually doesn’t have (especially not with pretty girls). Y/n only nods his way before leaving him alone to grab another drink with her friends. He had a hope that she wouldn’t drink too much so she would still be able to go through with their unspoken plans for the night.

Harry was holding y/n up by her thighs, fucking into her against the wall in her living room. She wasn’t holding back letting him know how much she liked what he was doing and it wouldn’t surprise her if the moans and high pitched sounds she was making could be heard outside her apartment. In the moment she didn’t exactly care about letting people know she was having the time of her life; getting fucked by someone she was attracted to and who was - in some insane way - better than her dildo. That much was clear after the first night they shared together and she could only hope he had the same thoughts about her.

They had left the bar hours ago heading straight to her apartment. Clothes were tugged off and strewn across the floor and their naked bodies worked perfectly together to please the other. It was as if they were made to please each other, Harry knowing exactly what to do to make her feel good and he wasn’t afraid of asking what she wanted or needed. Y/n was (in Harry’s eyes) an expert on giving blowjobs - sucking him off like she could read his mind thinking about everything he liked. Her tongue skillfully dragged downwards on his cock to suck his balls while her hand continued its motion up and down, her thumb circling on his head. He was in heaven and had to pull her off before he’d shoot his load in her mouth before he could get a taste of her.

Over the next two months they continued hooking up - usually after Harry ended his shifts at the bar and y/n was more than ready to get out. Her friends knew something was up between them after the third time not leaving when they left. The fact that she was eyeing him every time he passed them was a dead giveaway, too, as she isn’t normally one to give guys ‘the eye’. They hadn’t brought it up or told her they knew after Caleb caught them making out in one of the back corners. Though Harry was embarrassed to have been caught doing something he probably shouldn’t have been doing while at work, Caleb only laughed and whipped around to walk back to their group. Y/n had told him it was fine and they wouldn’t care, but he quite clearly noticed the whole group would stare at him when he was close over the next few weeks. It was uncomfortable for him, but he came to terms with it knowing what they were actually doing was private and between only the two of them.

They had gotten to know each others bodies - what they respond to and how to tell they’re about to cum - over the time they spent together. Though they never extended their time with each other, always keeping it to going home - mostly to y/n’s place except if Harry’s parents are gone - and fucking. If it’s only one round or the whole night depended on if they were doing things the next day, but there had only been a handful of times they kept to one round. One of them always managed to keep the other going for at least another round which then turns into hours of them enjoying each other.

Y/n was asleep when Harry called her; his shift at Mike’s was over and he wanted nothing more than to see y/n. He knew she wasn’t at the bar as he would’ve seen her either in line or inside, probably trying to sneak off somewhere secluded to make out during his break. It had become a regular thing for them to sneak off suddenly, her friends understanding she was with Harry if they couldn’t see her. Y/n felt as if there were magnets pulling them together, not able to withstand the urge to be with him. She never thought of it to be anything more than what it is - he is the best she’s had and she doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon.

Harry on the other hand was starting to think what if there is a reason behind them not being able to keep away from each other for more than a couple of days? Christmas break was just around the corner and he knew y/n would be gone for almost a month and he wanted to see her as much as time allowed them to before she left to go to the other side of the country. He knew time would pass slowly when he had two weeks off work and she was gone. Sure, spending time with his family and friends is nice and all, but to be quite frank he’d rather spend it in bed with y/n.

When y/n finally answered her phone Harry didn’t even give her time to say hello before asking if he could come over to which she of course said yes. He always wonders if his parents notice him not coming home from work until early morning or after breakfast. He’s sure they do because his car isn’t in the driveway and they’ve told him they hear when he opens and locks the door at night. Right now though, he couldn’t care less about his parents having questions, all he wanted was to bury himself in y/n making her moan out in ecstasy.

Y/n will be the first to admit that he did just that. He had her writhing beneath him, shaking from the multiple orgasms he gave her, screaming so loud the neighbors might be worried for her safety and the smile so wide on her lips didn’t fall once. She was happy to let him take her for the rest of the night into the morning, hopefully leaving giving a smack to her ass just like she enjoys in the bed. Harry knew this and whenever she wanted him to give it to her on her stomach he smacked her asscheeks till they turned red and his handprints were visible. It wasn’t unknown between the two that he reveled in it, too, saving the image for whenever he couldn’t have her and had to revert to his hand.

“I want you to cum on my ass, please.” Y/n was as carefree in bed as she was out, never scared to tell him what she needed or ask him to change it up. Harry on the other hand, was still holding back a bit, the introvert in him hesitant to do anything in case he would mess something up. Y/n could tell he was coming out of his shell more as time went on and they continued hooking up, sometimes taking the reins and telling her exactly what he wanted or needed to get off. She remembered one specific time she gave him a blowjob he voiced his needs and she grinned at him so wide until he came in her mouth - You’re going to keep your hands behind your back until I’m close and then you’re going to swallow my cum.

Harry didn’t hesitate to pull out and have her turn around to lay on her stomach, she bucked her hips up against his cock in anticipation for what he’d do. She knew he loved her ass, always grabbing onto it when they were making out, she was riding him, or when she was on her stomach for him. His hands found their way to her cheeks, grabbing one in each hand and spreading them to ease into her.

It was six-thirty in the morning and it didn’t surprise them that they had been fucking on and off for almost four hours as it happened most times they met. Maybe they should be worried they’re fucking too much and becoming addicted to each other, but honestly Harry thinks that ship has sailed a long time ago. He was addicted to her but there is no way he’d ever tell y/n.

****

A month later and Christmas break was coming to an end. Y/n had spent most of her time away thinking about Harry. It had been lonesome without him. She was used to seeing him a couple days a week at least and now they hadn’t spoken a word to each other over the break. Really, it wasn’t that weird, because they never texted or called about anything except if Harry’s working or if he could come over. It was quite clear they weren’t friends as they didn’t know anything except surface things about each other. Y/n thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they did become friends..

Harry himself had tried his hardest to keep y/n out of his head, only ending up with a hard on whenever he thought of her too long and having to leave the party to take care of himself. It was almost embarrassing having a crush on someone who continuously made him feel like a boy in middle school by getting boners whenever he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. He would never tell anyone about what they had been doing for the last few months, too shy to even talk about his sex life with his friends, but if this is how it’s going to continue he needs to at least grow some balls and talk to y/n.

Sure, he wasn’t opposed to continuing hooking up with her without talking about his possible feelings, but in the long run he knew it’d only hurt him more than making him happy. Even just hanging out without doing anything sexual would please him, getting to know her on a friendly level. Staying the night and being able to pull her closer to him and place a kiss on her temple before falling asleep spooning after fucking her raw would make him feel better about it than what they’re doing now - sleeping on opposite sides of the bed pretending to not know the other is there.

He’s been thinking that he’s using y/n for what she seems so happy to give him, but it has to be like that for her as well, he thought. She has to know they’ve been using each other and there might be a chance it would lead to something more for at least one of them, if not both, but Harry doesn’t want to be miserable if she doesn’t reciprocate his thoughts or feelings. Deciding it’s not worth dwelling over without talking to her first, he gets in his car and drives over to her place knowing she had come home earlier that day.

He stood outside her apartment door for some minutes to collect himself and know that being honest with her is what’s best for the both of them even if it goes sideways. The fact he was about to see her - and possibly fuck her - again after a month of nothing was also nerve-wracking.

There was no better time than the present and y/n opened the door only seconds after Harry knocked. With a lovely smile on her face and glowing eyes, it looked like she had needed the time away to relax and get back into her groove before the new semester. He couldn’t help but smile back, thinking about how he doesn’t ever want her smile to fade.

It didn’t surprise him that when he got inside and closed the door behind him she pulled him in for a kiss, already clawing at his jacket to get it off. Of course, Harry wanted nothing more than to give in to her lips and soft hands and continue until all their clothes were off and he could see the naked body he’d been dreaming about, but he had to talk to her first. He pushed her hands off of him and moved to create the smallest bit of space, not wanting her to think something’s wrong.

“Sorry.. I just have something to get off my chest if that’s alright?” Harry’s heart was beating a million miles an hour and y/n’s wasn’t far from that either. Immediately she came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to hook up anymore and she wouldn’t have the chance to get to know him like she decided she wanted to while she was away. It’s obvious they couldn’t keep playing games for forever, but she liked what they had going on - though she imagines she wouldn’t hate it if they were more than acquaintances. Hanging out a little longer, getting to know each other - more than knowing their favorite positions at least - and cuddling before going to bed. It didn’t sound awful.

“I’ve missed you over the past month, y/n.” She looked up at him, not meeting his eyes as they were fleeting all over the place not knowing where to place them. He certainly wasn’t confident enough in himself to place his eyes on hers, though he saw her wanting them to meet so she could be sure he wasn’t speaking nonsense. “You know I’m not good at speaking up, but I couldn’t keep this to myself as it concerns you as well. It’s alright if you don’t want to grow our acquaintanceship, but please don’t string me along.”

There was clear vulnerability in his quavering voice and y/n found it admirable how Harry had the courage to talk to her about his feelings, unlike her who was planning on keeping her thoughts to herself, for the time being at least. Now though, there is nothing keeping her from letting him know how she couldn’t want anything more than to advance their relationship to something more to see how compatible they are. They barely know each other and it might be a miss, but they owe it to themselves to at least try.

As Harry still wasn’t looking at her, he couldn’t see the smile getting wider by time. Y/n brought her hand up to his chin to guide his head in her direction. Closing the space between them, she put her lips on his, placing a delicate kiss on his lips - quite unlike the kisses they normally share.

“I missed you too, Harry.” He enclosed his arms around her waist, bringing her as close to him as he could without squeezing her too hard. She heard him sigh into her neck, content with how the conversation went, she presumed.

For the rest of the evening, they laid in her bed talking and getting to know each other, in more ways than one. It was intimate - like nothing Harry had ever experienced before - and when night came there was no way they would separate. Though y/n still had a week left before college started up again, Harry had work and it was clear they wouldn’t be able to spend that much time together. Tonight was their only night together before it was time to get back to reality, which is why she decided to go home with Harry. She’d only been there a handful of times over the course of their months hooking up, mostly because he didn’t want his parents to get in his business. It didn’t really matter this time, only caring about spending time together.

****

Hope you enjoyed my take on bouncer!h and I’d appreciate it if you reblogged to get my writing out <3

Last fic: FWB series chapter 1, chapter 2

#harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #writing

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agathasangel · 4 years ago

Text

her favorite (wilhemina venable x fem!reader)

Warnings: Angst, Mina has a soft side, ambiguous/sad ending I guess. TW for injury, blood and death.

Summary: When the apocalypse comes, you get taken away and brought to a strange underground sanctuary, which Wilhemina Venable ruled with an iron fist. But against all odds, this harsh woman took a liking to you. This is your relationship from when the you’re taken to the outpost all the way to when the timeline is reset.

You never believed there was anything extraordinary or special about you. You were a regular college student. You had no idea what you wanted to do with your life. Little did you know that you wouldn’t need to know anyway.

You lived alone and spent most of your time drawing, writing or working for your classes. Even though you were lonely, you were still happy with your life. Until it all changed forever.

One day, you got a missile alert on your phone. You panicked, not knowing wha to do or if you should believe it or not. You decided to grab a bunch of food from your pantry, your notebook and pencils and a change of clothes, shoved them into your backpack and tried to run to the basement of your building. Before you could get there, you were grabbed by two men wearing all black.

“(Y/n), You have been selected by The Cooperative.”

“You’re coming with us.”

“What are you talking about? What’s the Cooperative?”

“Your exceptional genetic makeup has made you a prime candidate to survive this apocalypse. We’re taking you to an outpost where you’ll be safe.”

Because the only alternative was hiding in the basement of your apartment building and waiting for certain death, you decided to just go along with it and not fight.

The men put you in a holding cell. While you waited, you wondered who else the Cooperative decided to save. You worried about your family back home, your friends, and the girl from school you were in love with. What would happen to them? Would they get sent to an outpost? Would they find somewhere else safe? You couldn’t stand the thought of anyone you love dying of radiation.

You were at the point of wallowing in your regret for not doing enough before all this happened, and especially for not telling that girl how you felt about her, when the two men grabbed you again.

“Time to go.” one said. The two men stripped you and scrubbed you down, and then put you into a hazmat suit and took you to Outpost Three.

When you arrived, one of the first things you heard was a cane (her cane, you would come to find out) clicking against the floor.

The most beautiful woman you have ever seen, with red hair and black Victorian-style clothes who walked with a cane came into your view.

“I’m Wilhemina Venable,” she told you, “Welcome to Outpost Three.”

The woman showed you around the outpost. It was so large and ornate, nothing like what you were expecting.

“This place is beautiful. Was it built for this?”

“It was not. For years it served as an exclusive boy’s school. But it was donated. Once the Cooperative realized what was coming.”

“What exactly... is the Cooperative?”

“They are are saviors, Miss (y/l/n). The visionaries. The ones who saw the end, and decided to make it the beginning. I am their face, Miss (y/l/n).”

She showed you to your room. You did not expect to bunk beds or something, but instead you got a place all you yourself.

“As a purple, you will be furnished with a private suite.”

“A purple?”

“The purples are the elite. The ones chosen by the Cooperative to survive. The purples wear purple. The greys, our worker ants, wear grey. You see, Miss (y/l/n), here everyone must know their place. Luckily for you, your place is near the top.”

“What about you? What are you?” you said, resisting the urge to make some kind of innuendo about this woman you found incredibly hot being the top.

“I am neither. I am the right arm of the Cooperative, my job being to run this outpost.”

So she was the top. Nice.

“The house rules are simple. You will refer to me only as Ms. Venable. You will never leave the building due to the dangers of radiation contamination. If you leave you will not be allowed back in. And finally, no unauthorized copulation of any kind. Under any circumstances. You’ll find your evening wear on the right side of the armoire. You are expected in the music room at 6:30.” And the woman left. You knew you probably didn’t have much of a chance with the cold woman in the first place anyway, but the rule against sex confirmed it. It was okay though. You changed into the corset and purple gown Ms. Venable provided for you (was it the Cooperative that had a serious thing for Victorian fashion or was it just Ms. Venable?).

You walked into the music room, which was playing the same song on repeat, and was filled with a bunch of people who you vaguely recognized. Some talk show host, her son, his boyfriend, and a bunch of people from prominent families. You were the only one there so far that was just plucked out of their home by chance.

During dinner, You sat next to where Ms. Venable sat at the head of the table. Despite knowing you didn’t have much of a shot, you were still attracted to her. But, did you just imagine, that she didn’t look at you with the same amount of disdain that she looked at the others with?

After a while, two more people like you showed up, and both of them were close to your age. However, they only wanted to be with each other most of the time. You assumed they would become a couple, and that Ms. Venable’s whole “no-sex” rule was probably really dragging them down.

One day, after an incident where the entire outpost thought they were being fed the body of one another purple who was killed due to contamination, you were in the library, sitting and drawing. You wanted to take your mind off of everything. You thought you were alone, but then you heard the click of a cane on the ground and realized that you weren’t.

“(Y/n). I thought I would find you in here.”

You jumped and held your notebook to your chest. “Ms. Venable! Is there... something you need?”

The woman chuckled. “You’re not like the rest of them, you know that? You’re so much better.”

“You think so?”

“I do. And I do hope that you don’t think any less of me after last night’s debacle.”

Why does she care what I think? “I don’t. I know you would never.... do what Andre accused you of. And besides, wasn’t he contaminated? I know you wouldn’t make us eat something contaminated, that just doesn’t make sense...”

“I’m glad someone in this outpost has some damn common sense. I like you, (y/n),” she said as she walked by you and lightly ran a hand through your hair as she went by. “Do not tell the others that I favor you,” the woman instructed as she sat by you and peered into your notebook. She started asking you about your writing and drawing and you showed them to her. And you ripped out one of your most recent drawings, a drawing of Ms. Venable herself, and gave it to her.

“Thank you, (y/n). That is... kind of you.”

“Of course.”

The woman moved in to kiss you, and you obliged her. She wrapped her arms around your waist and kissed you. You closed your eyes and let your top lip fall in between her lips and she started to bite your lip, lightly at first and then roughly. You were really enjoying it, but then she pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she told you. “Please, do not tell anyone.”

“Ms. Venable-”

“I’m sorry, Miss (y/l/n), but this simply cannot happen.”

“But-”

But she had left.

The next time you were alone with Ms. Venable was while Michael Langdon was giving his interviews. You had had yours earlier that day, and Ms. Venable seemed to be right after you. You were in the library, again, and you swore you heard crying. You looked for the source, and it was her. You didn’t even think that this woman could cry. She looked shocked to see you.

“Get out.”

“Ms. Venable, what’s going on?”

She was trying to hold on until you left, but you held out until the woman burst into tears again.

“Please, Ms. Venable, please tell me what happened. You know I care about you.”

“You’re the only one who does. And you wouldn’t if you knew what I really am.”

“That’s not true. Is this about your interview?”

“Langdon... he unzipped my dress... he saw my back, my disgusting...”

“Hey, I’m sure it’s not disgusting-”

“And then he told me that I didn’t... that I didn’t pass.. I’m going to die here, (y/n).”

“That’s not fair. I’m sorry, Ms. Venable.”

“I.. I hope you get out of here, (y/n). I still lo- I still, um, care for you.”

“I don’t want to leave without you, Ms. Venable.”

“I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice in that matter.”

Late that night, you were woken by a familiar sound of a cane and then a knock at your door.

“It’s open, please come in Ms. Venable.”

She entered your room and sat down on the foot of your bed.

“I have news,” she started. “Ms. Mead and I have plans to escape this place. She doesn’t know it yet, but you’re coming with us. We will find the sanctuary ourselves. How does that sound?”

“Great, Ms. Venable. I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Wonderful. So that’s settled then,” said Ms. Venable as she started to leave.

“Wait. Why don’t you stay in here, Ms. Venable?”

She hesitated but agreed. She climbed into your bed and hesitantly put an arm around you.

“You can call me Mina. That’s what my parents and the few friends I had used to call me before the war.”

“Mina... beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Mina.”

And she kissed you again. You didn’t go any further than that because she was afraid of you seeing the body she was so ashamed of.

“I understand. But I promise when you want to I will think that you are perfect, because you are, Mina”

“You’re too sweet, little one,” she told you. She fell asleep in your bed, with you. She woke up earlier than normal and shook you awake.

“I’m leaving so no one else finds out I was here. But I love you, my little one.”

You reached out to her and she lightly touched your hand with the hand that was free from her cane before walking away.

That was the first time she said that she loved you.

This started to happen every night. Ms. Venable- or Mina would come into your room late, would talk with you and kiss you and most importantly, she would update you on the situation with the escape and Langdon.

The night before Halloween, she told you the most terrifying thing of them all. She and Ms. Mead planned on poisoning the entire outpost during the party, including Langdon, before their escape. You protested.

“It is simply what needs to be done, (y/n).”

“What about me?”

“You will hide in your room until we are ready. You will be locked in. I am sorry, (y/n), but your only other options are your death, my death, or both of our deaths. And I will not die.”

“This isn’t right.”

“What choice do we have?”

Mina still stayed with you that night, and while things were still tense between the two of you, she still told you she loves you, that she only wants to protect you. And despite everything, you still loved her.

All day, you dreaded every second that passed. The other purples were so excited about the party, and you wanted to tell them that they were going to die, but you simply couldn’t speak. When the party started, you were locked in your room. You had no idea what to do with yourself. You weren’t close with anyone in the outpost other than Mina anyway, but you didn’t want them to die. You heard the music downstairs and all the sounds of the happy partygoers. The young couple dancing. Coco, Gallant and even Mallory having fun together.

You didn’t want to let it happen. But even if you could somehow get out, what would happen? What would happen to Mina? What would happen to you?

And then you heard screams. It was too late.

And then, silence.

You expected Mina and Ms. Mead to come and rescue you and prepare for escape, but they didn’t come.

After ten minutes, they didn’t come. After thirty, they still hadn’t come. You banged on the door and nothing happened. You searched and searched for a way out and there was nothing. You took a clip out of your hair and tried to pick the lock, and it finally worked. You ran down the hall, searching for any sign of Mina, Ms. Mead, anyone. And then, you saw her.

Mina was lying on the ground of Michael’s bedroom, alone, bleeding. Someone had shot her.

“Mina! Mina, are you alive? What happened?”

“shhhhh....” she said, weakly. At least the was still alive. You searched for something to do and you decided to rip a big chunk of your skirt off and use it to stop Mina's bleeding.

“Breathe,” you whispered. “It’ll be okay...”

You weren’t sure if you believed what you were saying, but her bleeding did slow. You did everything you remembered to help her, including keeping her warm and putting pressure on the wound.

“I love you, little one.” said Mina.

#my fics #wilhemina venable #ahs #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #wilhemina venable x reader #venable x reader #sarah paulson #i wrote this in like two hours so it might not be good #but im posting it anyway

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chilling-in-the-dark · 5 years ago

Text

The Batboys Growing Up as Yandere’s Part 5: Damian Wayne

This is a yandere story; it mentions elements of obsession, possessiveness, death, murder, and kidnapping. If any of this is triggering for you, I understand, and you don’t have to read it.

As always, feedback is welcomed.

Tim had moved out by the time Bruce found out about Damian; in fact, Tim had left as soon as his girlfriend returned his affections.

When Damian Wayne was still Damian Al Ghul, he’d always been told that caring too much for anyone was a weakness, that it would get him killed. So, he couldn’t understand why his father, the great Batman held on so tightly to his wife. Damian doubted that the woman whom he refused to call a Wayne, because that right should have been reserved for his mother, could even defend herself properly. Damian would have killed her in the early days if he thought he could have gotten away with it.

Though Mrs. Wayne’s patience and constant care slowly wore down his walls, and then he started to envy his father. Yet at the same time, Damian didn’t think he deserved someone; he was a demon who’d killed people. Yet, at the same time, he craved love, Damian yearned for soft touches and sweet smiles.

It was the summer before his freshman year of high school when he’d made a dumb mistake, one his mother would have killed him for, and when the villain he’d been fighting used it to their advantage, he’d barely managed to get away with his life.

It had surprised you to find Robin bleeding out on your fire escape. Against your better judgment, you took him inside and tended to his wounds as best you could, glad your mother was rarely home since her and your stepfather’s messy divorce, you think after six of them she’d learn to cope better.

Damian woke several hours later to find an angel leaning over him; for half a second, he wondered if he’d died. Damian corrected himself; if he died, he certainly wasn’t going to meet an angel. Also, he probably wouldn’t feel like he’d just been given the beating of a lifetime.

“Oh, thank god your alive,” you spoke, relief flooding your voice. You’d done your best to stop the bleeding, but a lot of his wounds looked like they needed stitches, something you weren’t capable of.

Once Damian came to as much as his blood loss would let him, he felt his face, relieved to find his angel had left the mask in place. Robin didn’t speak much until Batman arrived, but then as he was carried out by his father, you could have sworn you heard, “Thank you,” fall faintly from the boy’s lips.

You didn’t know it, but you’d come to regret the night you’d saved a Robin from certain death.

It wasn’t a month later your mother came into your bedroom, demanding to know why you had a letter from Gotham Academy. “So, help me, you better not have applied I told you we can’t afford this and don’t you dare bring up scholarships, those don’t cover uniforms or books.” She’d spent the better part of an hour yelling, not letting you get a word in edgewise, so you couldn’t tell her that you hadn’t applied. Finally, she thrust the envelope onto your dresser and left.

You knew it was probably a scam, but you opened the envelope anyway, only to find a letter about being awarded a full Martha Wayne Foundation scholarship, it supposedly covered every expense necessary to attend. You decided that you’d look up the school’s number and call them in the morning. At worst, you’d end up embarrassed, but if this letter was real, you might have a shot at a future.

It had taken more strength then Damian thought he possessed, to keep him from killing your mother, as he watched the live feed from the security camera he’d installed in your bedroom. Damian had only put them in there because he wanted to keep you safe, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself; he wanted to see how his beloved was doing.

He’d been happy to see you on the first day of school. Actually, he’d gotten to see you before class even started. Your bike tires being several years older than you, had finally given out, and of course, it had started raining of all things.

You’d been cautious when the town car came to a stop beside you, even more so when you saw the back window rolled down to reveal Damian Wayne, but the boy had somehow managed to get you into the car with him. While he’d been rough around the edges, Damian had managed to come off as sweet and charming. It hadn’t been hard something about your presence soothed him, made it easy to let out emotions he usually kept bottled up.

He’d spent the day by your side, and for the first time in a long time, Damian felt at peace; in his eyes, you truly were an angel sent down to save his soul. Damian was convinced that meeting you was fate, that some higher being was giving him a chance, someone to love and that maybe if he did it right and kept you safe, it might make up for his sins.

You were sixteen when Damian had finally asked you out, you’d been happy, how could you not be, your crush liked you back, You’d gushed on the phone to your friends for hours afterword, they were dumbfounded that you hadn’t realized how in love with you the boy was, “He calls you Beloved for peat’s sake, of course, he’s in love with you.”

To you, this was a new relationship, but to Damian, it had been formalizing what he already knew to be true. You were his, and that class ring on your finger would prove it until a wedding ring could take its place.

That time would come on your graduation day when Damian had just finished his valedictorian speech when he knelt in front of you and pulled out a small black box. You knew what was in it before he’d even had a chance to open it and reveal his family’s heirloom engagement ring. Mrs. Wayne must have given it to him.

You’d cried happy tears as he put the ring on your finger, once that was done Damian leaned in to kiss you while ignoring the clicking of cameras. Despite what many think, Damian loved PDA because it let the entire world know whose protection you were under. You wanted the wedding to wait until after college, much to Damian’s dismay, but he’d begrudgingly accepted your choice. Though to Damian’s satisfaction, the wedding came a lot sooner than you’d planned.

You’d been attending Gotham university for a few months now and had been loving it, that is until you spent longer then you’d planned in the library. You knew Damian would want you to call him so he could come and get you, but you knew he was on patrol, and while you didn’t like the idea of walking in Gotham after dark, you’d walked home at night before and never had an issue.

Tonight though, a mugger had pulled you into a dark alley and pointed a gun at your face demanding all your valuables. You’d relented giving the man everything you had on you, but you’d forgotten to give him your ring. You loved the ring, and it was a Wayne family heirloom, but you knew it wasn’t worth your life, so when the man slapped you and demanded you give it up. You instantly started working the ring off your finger.

Just as you’d slipped it from your hand, Robin showed up and started whaling on the guy. You’d never seen Damian so vicious before, but he’d refrained from killing the man in your presence, not wanting you to see death. An angel should never have to see such darkness, no that was reserved for a demon like him, so Damian slipped a tracker on the unconscious man and took you to the manor. Once he’d managed to calm you down enough to sleep, he’d go back out and finish the job.

Damian had used the incident to convince you to marry him sooner, playing up how short life could be and asking you what the point in waiting was. The next day the two of you applied for a marriage license, and during New Jersey’s mandatory three-day waiting period Alfred and the other Wayne wives planned and organized the whole wedding. It was a small and intimate affair, but lovely none the less, everything had been perfect.

Until the next day, that is, when you woke up and found yourself in a locked room, you definitely hadn’t gone to sleep in. Damian was also noticeably absent. Your heart was in your throat, had you been kidnaped, if so how did they get into Wayne manor and why didn’t Damian wake up, your husband was a light sleeper.

There was no way anyone could have taken you without waking him up even if, by some improbability, you hadn’t woken up yourself. You’d never felt so relieved as you did when Damian walked through the door breakfast tray in his hands. Maybe this was some sort of staycation to make up for not being able to go on a honeymoon.

“Dami, why is the door locked?” You asked anyways, not expecting the answer that you were going to get.

“To make sure you can’t leave the safety of this room beloved,” He said, and your blood froze because Damian’s tone made it sound as if he believed it was completely normal to lock his wife in a room. You tried to explain to him how messed up that was, but he ignored your arguments. Your husband wasn’t the man you thought he was.

You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take Damian in a fight, so you waited until he left for patrol to start looking for an exit. All that got you was a bruised shoulder because, apparently, the window was freaking bulletproof glass.

You’d decided that tactic was useless because all it got you was Damian fussing over you, and right now, the last thing you wanted was your kidnaper anywhere near you. So, you stopped eating and made it clear to him that you weren’t going to unless he let you go. Part of you still loved him, so it broke your heart to see such a proud man beg, but no matter how much he cried and pleaded, you held firm.

You kept it up for about a week before you woke up tied to the bed, Damian making it clear that if you weren’t going to eat willingly, he’d force-feed you, after all, he’d vowed to keep you safe, even if it was from yourself.

Tags

@yanderepeterparker

@idkmanicantenglish

@prettyafghan

Grow up as only

@neon-phosphorecsent

@foggyturtleknightangel

#yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #Yandere DC #yandere dc comics #Yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #reader insert #yandere dc comics imagine #yandere dc comics x reader #Dark DC #dark batman #Yandere Batboys #Yandere batman #CITD writes #The Batboys Growing Up as Yanderes #PART 5

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purvishraick · 4 years ago

Text

A TALE OF ALWAYS AND FOREVER

CHAPTER 7

Fanfiction : Bloodbound (Choices)

Pairing : Adrian Raines x Amy Richard Parker (MC)

Warning : none

Rating: Teen

TAG LIST : @otherworldlypresents , @evelynistic , @silma-words , @fireycookie , @lauren-raines-x , @nala-raines

If anyone wanna be tagged in future do let me know….

read previous chapter here ….. Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6

So here i promised this last night but sorry it got delayed ...got stuck in some important work .... now here i am .... i hope u like it

Amy had to forcefully cut the call, in order to shut her brother and she new that this will make him angry. But she didn’t need a pep talk for not getting wasted in the club before her interview. She could handle her brother afterwards and the interview was important. She wandered here and there and settled on the bench. She felt like she is being watched from behind but didn’t find someone. Just then a stunning woman with an icy demeanor came towards her.

“Amy?” stern woman said .

“ yes that’s me “ she replied .

“I am Nicole Anderson, VP of operations at Raines Corp. I will interview you . “ she said .

Amy was surprised to see that she was going to be interviewed by someone so high at post but her queries were eased when she reminded her that they take their hiring process very seriously and she followed her in the conference room keeping her confident look .

“ now then. The Raines Corporation is a global leader in technology and innovation . Why exactly are you interested in being the executive assistant to our CEO ? “

“well…” Amy took a deep breath and continued , “ I’d love to help make the world a better place . what I admire most about the Raines Corporation is your dedication to global innovation and improvement. The clean – water initiative …the vaccine for the cerella virus …the green energy project… you guys aren’t just getting rich. You’re trying to help people, to make technology that’ll save the planet. I can’t think of anything better than being a part of that.”

“hmm……a good answer. A bit cloying , perhaps, but Adrian might actually like that “ Nicole said with an appreciative look.

Just as she was going to speak the next thing , the door at the back of the room swings open , and a handsome man in a perfectly – tailored suit strolls in.

Intelligence sparks through his eyes . He was extremely charming , with his black obsidian eyes assessing her , her already killer nervousness now peaked a whole new level.

“ Adrian I wasn’t expecting you…” Nicole asked unable to hide the surprise in her voice .

Adrian as in Adrian Raines …well all escalated very quickly for her .

“ I had a free minute. Is this the candidate ?” he asked taking the authority in his hands as he decided.

Professionalism and seriousness reflected in his voice .

“ yes …but I’ve just started the interview and—“ Nicole asked stammering .

“ I’ll take over from here “ he cut her off not wanting to take any excuses .

“……of course sir , go right ahead “ she surrendered .

Adrian sat across Amy , eyes burning right through her . He has never seen such a beautiful person in his entire existence , god knows how would she be as a person .

Amy’s nervousness grew even more when his eyes bore through her but she remembered once more , she is Amy Richard Parker and nothing in this world ever scares her , she remembered her brothers’ advices on professionality and confidence and recalled her dad’s proud thought about her and her mother’s loving smile . Now that was enough to calm her down , so she put on the brave and fearless smile again on her face and straightened her back.

“ Amy , is it ? “ Adrian looked at her and saw her hazel brown eyes which her so hypnotizing , with all his strength he prevented himself from being lost in them .

“ that’s right “ she said interrupting his thoughts .

“ tell me Amy , what do you desire ? “ he asked her and she was surprised at the question .

Amy was already so mesmerized from him that this question surprised her.

“ You mean ……why do I want this job ? Because I – “ but was interrupted by Adrian .

“ I didn’t ask why you want this job. I asked what do you desire . “ he asked seriously and professionally.

“ I desire ……PASSION “ she answered after thinking fir a while .

“ oh , really ? “ he asked , his brows raising , he was in true sense intrigued by her answer .

“Sorry , if that is too personal but I am just being honest . I want to feel deeply. I want to experience life , live every moment like my last. We never know when is our last moment , it is better to live our life to the fullest than to regret it afterwards . That’s what I desire “ she answered honestly and it was the true answer she saw what happened to her family everything was good and happy then suddenly they lost everything , she do not want to regret anything .

“ I can relate“ Adrian was impressed internally but didn’t expressed it. He supressed a smile to reach his face. He was truly impressed by her desire to live and feel and experience. He now looked at her resume .

“ lets see here … graduated college 3 years ago …masters in communication …interned at Mannon financial…volunteered in San Torbida and France abroad for a year “ he read out and again was impressed from her but wondered why it took her an extra year to sign up for this interview or for that matter any other one .

“ yep that’s right “ she said .

“ well , how was that tell me in three words “ he asked .

“ difficult. Enlighting. Rewarding. “ she replied easily .

“ good , this job can be challenging and unpredictable , are you comfortable running unusual errands ?”

“Absolutely “

I have been doing them since a long time now , she thought to herself , smiling .

“ Handling confidential information ? “

“ I can keep a secret “

You wont even realise how many I am keeping right now too , she thought again and smirked .

“ Working nights ? “

“ Always been a night owl “

Okay , I atleast told him one thing fully without strings attached , she smiled while thinking .

“ Good , Anything else I should know about you ? “

“ Hmmmm …… I have got WORLD CLASS people skills “ , she said with a proud smile .

“ Oh , really ? “ he asked with questioning eyes .

“ I was voted ‘ most likable ‘ in my high school class . Also ‘ most popular ‘ and ‘ best smile ‘ . Technichally you are not supposed to win in multiple categories , but I was able to persuade them . And also the cherry on the top I was the PROM QUEEN “ , she stated out all of her achievements proudly and remembered how happy and proud her father was to see her that day . She and her brothers has always been the brightest in the whole family , anyways. Suddenly feeling nostalgic and tears building in her eyes she averted her gaze on the floor.

“ Thus proving your point “ said a grinning and impressed Adrian , but he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes and he doubted that he saw tears too , and was unable to understand why counting her proud moments made her sad .

“ exactly” Amy said after controlling her emotions and forcing a smile.

“ one more question “ Adrian leaned forward hands folded on the table and with an intense expression , told her the story of a man who got a genie lamp and destroyed everything , and then finally asked her about what should his final wish should be .

“I think his final wish should be to undo his first two wishes “ she said after thinking for a while .

“because ?” Adrian asked curious to know her theory .

“ because he already had everything he could ask for a family and many friends …what could he ask for more it was more than enough …all he wanted or ever needed was right there in front of him …this is a story of temptation and greed …he should have never played this game …all now he can do is making things as they were before “

Her answer was something totally honest … Adrian glanced at her and then noticed how true each and every word was . she was not only beautiful but also quite intelligent …in true sense beauty with brains.

She was quite interesting too …Adrian personally never saw such a person in his entire life … and he needed to know her …he knew that it is a huge risk and a mistake but he already did that when he decided to interview her himself …now he couldn’t resist her … so then he does the only thing he could do …he knew that Nicole will be a big trouble after this but guess he was okay with that if it was what would keep this girl around .

Then he grins brightly at Amy and says

“ You’re hired “

“wait what ? …seriously “ Amy asked with wide eyes , she was surprised , how in world is it possible that someone gets hired so fast …this was weird to her … but of course she was happy .

Adrian left an inside giggle watching her surprised reaction …she looked adorable with those wide eyes …his smile grew even wider … and he extends his hand …which obviously she took .

‘ oh my god …his skin is impossibly smooth…and hold so firm …wow he is really handso-……no no no …stop brain stop thinking …no eyes …don’t look in his eyes for too long … fuck …, I am a disaster …stop cheeks don’t turn red …god please ‘ she thought .

Good god if god wanted to kill her please kill her in this exact moment …someone save her from this embarrassment …she was a disaster with wide eyes blushing cheeks …FUCK.

Adrian saw her flustered reaction which was by far the cutest thing he saw in his life … his vampire senses made her blushing cheeks clearly visible …the dark pink tint on her cheek made her impossibly adorable.

“welcome to Raines Corporation “ , he said with a bright smile

They made eye contact for just moment but everything stood still for that particular moment …it was mesmerising .

In that moment Adrian didn’t knew about Amy but he knew that they were going to go a long way .

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

@choicesficwriterscreations

#bloodbound #adrian raines #adrian x mc #adrian×mc #kamilah sayeed #jax matsuo #lily spencer #choices stories we play #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc #fic of the week

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akp-1327 · 4 years ago

Text

dear diary // chapter ten

Auditions have arrived...O_o

Fair warning, I don’t know much about drama...anything? So I did a bunch of research from the original books, websites, and friends with experience...so let me know if any of this is inaccurate!

Also...hello! It’s been waaaaaay way way too long since the last update, but I’m beyond happy to be back! :)

As always, find the series masterlist here (Tumblr) or here (AO3) to catch up! :)

Pairings: Ajay Bhandari x f!MC (Charlotte Parker), Skye Crandall x f!OC (Leila Maciel)

Word Count: 6.5k

(*) Warnings: the briefest mention of dementia, otherwise there’s just a roller coaster of emotions in this chapter!

After one of the fastest weeks known to man, it was the day that classes started

This morning was all too familiar; the sudden remembrance of signing up for the morning classes, then the curse as I woke up with the sun. However, it was comforting to have this routine again. It made me feel normal, which had been a feeling I missed all summer back at Dad’s.

Walking to class on days like these, where the sun was warm and the sky was clear, had been another thing I missed. Birds chirping, the light foot traffic around campus, the smell of coffee wafting on the light breeze...

I could only think of how many hours spent pouring over the script for The Enchanted Kingdom. There were also points where Rory physically had to tear me away from the script to get outside, which to say, was not a task he succeeded at...

“C’mon! It’ll be fun! We can go find you some new blazers or something, since you insist on wearing them all the time.” Rory was slowly easing a highlighter from my hand. I gave him a death glare and he backed away, “At least take a break? You’ve been hunched here for hours.”

After a pointed look into his eyes, I focused my attention back on the script in front of me.

“I’m completely fine. Also, while I would love to get a few new blazers, I don’t have the time right now.” My voice was rough. I hadn’t been able to sleep much or eat anything but instant ramen for the past couple days. Though, I was feeling adventurous this morning and drank a piping hot cup of coffee. That felt like it did the trick, at least for a good while...until I fell asleep on my script for an hour or so. Ever since then, my eyes have been pretty droopy.

“Just let me be, Rory.”

Without another word, Rory sighed and left with a frown.

...was I a jerk that day? Maybe. But that was my nature; I’m a director and I’m supposed to be that way.

Another drift of wind caught the unbuttoned flannel I wore. Flannel was definitely a go-to right now, especially since all my blazers were much too warm for this kind of weather. Also, who knows who I’ll see?

I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders with a heavy sigh and tightened my grip on the straps. Something about today felt different from first days of class in the past. Could it be how nice the weather was today? It’d been raining on the first day for the past two years...

Maybe it was about where I was going? Performance Theory wasn’t the most interesting thing on the planet, but it was also something I’d taken the past two years. By now, it was something to wake me up in the morning. So why would that make me feel weird?

I shook the feeling away and continued to walk at a relaxed pace, focusing on something else.

Naturally, my eyes traced over campus. A big group of students laughing in the shade of a tall maple tree, a few couples walking shoulder to shoulder, and many stragglers like me with their textbooks in hand.

The environment was serene, and it was definitely one I enjoyed. The long summer of renting out that spare room at Dad’s apartment was, at last, something I didn’t need to worry about for a while. Or...ever again, now that I’ve visited Amma.

Maybe that was the feeling? Amma looked so happy to see me, and so did Mo. I guess I missed them more than I thought...

My feet fell onto a familiar path towards the arts building. I was almost there; only a few more steps and a small staircase until the doors--

“Ajay!” A voice shouted from behind me, making my eyes roll. I fought the urge to keep walking and just ignore them, but I knew that’d be a bad choice with who this was.

Craaaaaap.

“Danielle.” I greeted through gritted teeth. I turned around to face her. “Hello.”

She gave her normal maniacal grin, creepy as always.

“Auditions are tonight, yeah?” She asked, and then held up her already battered script for me to see. There was bright yellow, green, and pink post-its peeking out from the pages. She’d always been dedicated to her auditions...but she just couldn’t execute.

Honestly? That was okay. She was an alright person for ensemble roles because she’d been a good dancer. But that doesn’t mean she was a great actor.

“They are, so make sure to be at the auditorium by four.” I sounded a little annoyed, but Danielle was oblivious. She wouldn’t notice; even if she did, she wouldn’t care. “Don’t be late, otherwise I’ll make sure you can’t audition.”

Her eyes widened a little, but otherwise that annoying smile still stretched across her face. Ugh, absolutely obnoxious.

“I won’t let you down! Oh, and tell Rory to save me a seat!” Danielle said before walking away with a wave. Once she was out of sight, I rolled my eyes with a shudder and started walking to class again.

As expected, classes were already boring. One lecture after another, going through all those stupid, stereotypical ice breaker games. Your name, your birthday, your major, your entire life plan...

I didn’t have another class until noon, and that was about an hour and a half from now. To pass the time, I decided to pull out my script. The sun reflected off the white paper and instantly obliterated my retinas, so with a watery blink, I looked away and tucked it back into place in my backpack, vowing to look at it later.

There was...nothing left for me to do.

Wait, is this what people call a break? This is what breathing feels like? Wow, this is so surreal...

Something about the moment just felt wrong. I shouldn’t be idle like this.

Students were laughing as they walked by. I recognized a few of them, but only by their faces. Some I recognized from past classes, others from past ensembles, a few from Lafayette...

Then, though, I found a familiarity within the group.

Erin.

“Ajay,” Erin smiled, looking relaxed as she sat next to me, “didn’t expect to see you sitting here.”

I gave her an eye roll. “Is it...illegal?”

Her loud laugh drew the attention of people around. “In the book of Ajay, it definitely is. It’s almost concerning to see you so calm on audition day.”

So it was noticeable. Huh. Immediately, my posture straightened and I crossed my legs, prompting Erin to laugh a little.

“I guess it’s just weird coming from you. I’m not a drama nerd, but I know this isn’t how directors normally act when they’re hours away from auditions.” She slowly turned to face me before continuing. “Anyway, what brings you to this bench?”

Her voice was surprisingly even. She looked like she’d been doing a lot better, but I could still see the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes. Erin had always been extremely resilient and level-minded, but even she could only handle so much stress at once.

“My next class is at noon so I figured I’d sit for a little while.”

Almost immediately, she sighed. “Preach. I have psych, so I’m in for a treat.”

Then, silence. It was thick, deafening, excruciating...I quickly wracked my brain for a question to get rid of it. Her confession about her grandma came up, then so did something else.

I hated to bring it up, but my mind wouldn’t forgive me if I chose something else to talk about.

“Erin, what happened to your grandpa?”

The question was met with another sigh, but this one was heavier. Regret already plagued my brain, but it was too late now. Nice job, Ajay.

“Let me guess, Rory told you?” Her expression wasn’t much different, but it definitely solidified into a more serious one than before.

“Yeah, on the first day back. With your grandma and all, I was wondering if they were both...”

Before she spoke again, she took a deep breath. “No, no. You’re right to wonder. It’s nothing concerning, though. He just didn’t like the idea of being separated from my grandma while she gets treatment, and so he let out a lot of his frustrations on me in an argument a few days before I came here. Said he didn’t like everyone he loved leaving him,” she shrugged, shaking her head, “I called Rory afterwards, since his parents were the same way when he left for college, and that ended up being a three hour-long conversation.”

I nodded when she took a break, and in that moment, I wondered how she worked through this. It was terrible, especially when her family was so far away.

“It hurt when I left this time, of course, but I think it’s good for me to get away from them for a while. I just need some space to process everything.” She shook her head, almost like she was shaking the thoughts away. Instead, she changed the topic. “Did Rory say something bad happened to my grandpa?”

Another nod, and Erin clicked her tongue.

“Rory was just being a gossip like always, then. Pops is just adjusting,” A genuine smile came back to her face, which was always reassuring. “So, I heard you went to your mom’s house? How was that?”

I groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”

She laughed loudly and, again, prompted lots of attention to our bench. “That great, huh?”

I sighed. The weird feeling from earlier came back, slowly eating away at my thoughts once more.

Erin quirked an eyebrow. “You’re making a face.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, challenging her gaze. “I always make a face. Everyone makes a face. It’d be concerning if someone didn’t make a face.”

That answer only made her eyes narrow even more.

“You’re rambling,” With this realization, she looked me over, “are you...okay? You never ramble.”

I could feel my leg start to bounce. “I can assure you that I’m fine.”

She hummed loudly, and I noticed my hands were starting to sweat a little.

“Add that to the pile of other lies you’ve been telling Rory for the past week. He’s been keeping me in the loop since, y’know, you never text me,” her elbow nudged my arm with a force that made me let out an uncharacteristic squeak, “so I’m sorry, but I’m not buying any of that crap. I can easily tell something’s bugging you.”

“I’m just stressed and on edge for tonight. That’s all.” Was all I could say. Knowing Erin, she wouldn’t take that as a viable answer.

“You’re never on edge for auditions. You say it’s one of the most laid back parts of the process...” Erin’s voice was accusative. She could see right through me. Sadly, that had always been one of her talents.

“Sometimes auditions are easy, but this isn’t one of those times,” I heaved a loud sigh and rested my chin on my ever-so-slowly tightening fist, “It’s a big cast, and so that a lot of decisions need to be made.”

Erin was quiet for a second. I could hear her drumming her fingers against the cover of her textbook softly, and then she spoke. “Sure, I get that part, but you’re off, too.”

I whipped my head towards her and found a teasing smile growing on her lips. “How so?”

She cocked her head to the side and playfully squinted. “You’re not wearing a blazer, for one,” she was keeping a tally on her fingers, “you’re too relaxed, you’re bouncing your crossed legs, your posture is super straight, you’re rambling, you’re defensive, you’re even a little jumpy...”

I slouched back down at the mention, and this only made her smirk grow into a full-blown grin. “You’ve been pretty quiet about the show, too. By now, I’d usually hear you going on and on about them like a proud grandma.”

“Erin--”

“Oh, this scene will be so interesting to choreograph, and this scene will bring an audience to tears, and even this--” Erin’s voice was mocking. Of course she was fairly accurate, but it still got on my nerves.

“Okay, I get it,” A helpless sigh escaped me, and she had that knowing look in her eye that made me want to gag.

“What’s up with you?” Erin laughed, narrowing her eyes a little in curiosity. “Don’t leave a poor girl in suspense!”

The truth was something I could barely admit to myself. It was the thought of a feeling I never, ever wanted to experience again. Heartbreak.

“Ajay, you’re blushing...” Erin was smiling now.

And then it hit me. All hope was lost when she covered her mouth and squealed. I’ve never, ever blushed in front of her.

“Ooooohhhhh, do you like someone?” Erin started to cheer. I opened my mouth to stop her from getting too loud, but she was already squealing again. There was no stopping the stares from the passing students now. “Oh. My. God! And that someone is making you nervous, right?”

I grimaced, the reminder of why I kept quiet surfacing for the millionth time. People always make a big deal out of your feelings, so that’s why you never show any emotion.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t--” The heat sweltered on my cheeks, and I knew it was still visible when Erin clapped. She looked so relieved while I wanted the world to open up and swallow me whole.

“Oh, I called it! I so called it!”

I looked up at her and found her grinning with some emotion I couldn’t quite place. She looked like she was about to scream! “Erin, if you tell anyone, I swear to any and every deity in this damn universe--”

“Anyone does not include Rory. He needs to know!” Erin said excitedly.

“He does not need to know! That information is not on a need-to-know basis!”

And he’ll know exactly who it is!

“Ajay! This is awesome! It’s been so long since you liked someone!”

Awesome? Awesome?

“Awesome is one of the last words I’d use.” I could practically feel the blush on my cheeks slowly burn me from the outside in; it made me wonder if there were actual flames dancing on my skin. “They might be auditioning. I...can’t let something like that distract me from the show. You know what happened with Kelly.”

Finally, Erin let her smile turn into something more composed.

“That was two years ago. Plus, not to mention, it was with a girl who was as blind as a bat.” Erin lifted a hand onto my shoulder and patted it gently, “You’ve changed since then, so I think it’s safe for you to let that fear go.”

“I know I’ve changed,” I was basically whispering at this point, “but I guess I’m just...”

She patted my shoulder again. “You’re scared.”

Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted, “Terrified.”

She sat in silence for a minute, but then, that sly grin of hers was back. “Well, then.”

“What do I do?”

Erin placed her hands on my shoulders. “One of the healthiest ways to overcome a fear is through exposure therapy. So, maybe...you could tell me who they are?”

I searched her eyes, and much like her grin, all I found was warmth. It was the warmth that’d been missing from Erin since we’d arrived on campus. It was nice to see her start to heal from her summer and return to her normal self.

Still, I blurted the one word on my tongue. “No.”

She sighed, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Ugh, fine. But just build the courage up sooner rather than later, please? I don’t handle anticipation very well and I’d very much like to know who made you this way.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Erin stood up, suddenly, and laughed. “That’s up for you to decide. Though, from an outsider’s perspective, I think you would’ve been just fine two years ago.”

Her gaze went soft for a second, but it was gone before I could decipher more. “Anywho, text me if you need help asking this mystery person out. You know I’d be happy to help!”

She was off with a sly wink before I could retort, already whipping her phone out to text Rory. Even if I didn’t want that to happen, I smiled.

My noon class was both a bore and a nightmare. Calculus was all gibberish - well, all math was - so I did my best to not pay attention to the professor. I needed to keep my head screwed on straight for later, so instead, I focused on reading through the script and notes I added in the margins. It ended up being quite nice, actually.

After the class spawned from the fiery depths of hell finished, I had a quick lunch consisting of a pack of rainbow goldfish crackers and hurried across campus to my next class.

Theatre arts was the perfect class for today, especially with it being audition night. Prime location and a great way to get back into the swing of things.

When I arrived, the auditorium entrance was buzzing with people. The drama building has never been a popular destination during the day, so what gives? Were auditions really something special this year?

Among the many faces, I spotted Rory, Skye, Leila, and Charlotte all huddled around a bulletin board on the front lawn. From the looks of it, they were...arguing, I suppose.

“...but wait! Skye, you’re good with computers!” Leila gasped, pointing at whatever was pinned on the board. “There are still tech spots available! And there isn’t an audition necessary for them.”

I watched Skye shake her head. Her hair was down, per usual, and she looked uptight. That was normal for her. But she also looked anxious when her eyes were looking at the bulletin board.

“Leila, you never need to audition for a tech spot,” Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, “can we please just let Skye make her own decision?”

“But there always needs to be more tech people! And it’d be fun to have another friend be at rehearsals.” Rory was pleading. He looked at Skye like she was his saving grace. “Please, Skye?”

It wasn’t an exaggeration at how small the tech crew was. Everyone in the drama program wants to act, not do tech. So, if anyone in the cast or crew heard about another tech, they’d jump at the opportunity and recruit them.

Skye gave everyone a look of dismay, then before she spoke, her eyes met mine.

“Ajay,” Skye said loudly, waving me closer. I hurried over and became apart of the huddle, and somehow fate was nice enough to put me next to Charlotte. “Does the drama program need more tech people?”

She was about to hate my guts.

“There’s never enough of them,” Memories of failing to do sound board last year flooded my mind, “don’t mind me asking, but would you be willing to give it a shot?”

That’s what made Skye groan. “Ugggg, you too?”

Her response made Leila laugh, but that was the only sound before a few moments of complete silence.

Finally, Skye sighed in defeat. “Depends. I’ll have to see what the software looks like first.”

I’ll take that as a yes...for now.

“Auditions are--” I started, but then Skye rolled her eyes.

“If I hear about auditions being tonight one more time, I swear...” Skye said, a hint of a smirk coming onto her face as she started to laugh. That was different, too; I don’t think I’ve ever heard her actual laugh.

“So does that mean you’ll do it?” Rory asked eagerly.

Skye smiled; it was small, but it was genuine. All the anxiety in her eyes vanished. “We’ll see.”

“Don’t feel forced to, though!” Charlotte squeaked, her voice cracking a little. “There are plenty of techs out there--”

“No! Don’t you dare rub her the wrong way!” Rory exclaimed, making Charlotte giggle.

It was cute. That thought alone made me blush a little.

Then, Leila gasped, her eyes widening in panic.

“Oh crap! I have to go!” Leila yelled, checking her phone. I decided to check my watch, and it read that it was almost two. Then she piped up again. “Skye, wanna walk with me?”

Skye let out a soft, surprised gasp. Her cheeks visibly reddened against her pale skin as she nodded.

“Sure,” Skye said, clearing her throat, “uh, maybe I’ll see you guys later,” she waved, allowing Leila to quickly drag her away by the arm, “jeez, lady, slow down--”

“Bye guys!” Leila yelled over her shoulder, then disappeared with Skye down the sidewalk and into a crowd of students.

Rory was the first one to speak, looking right at Charlotte. “Let me guess, you gotta go to the drama building?”

She nodded. “Whoa...it’s almost like I told you that when I got here...”

The two kept joking around as we started to walk into the building, but I kept thinking about what Erin had said about forgetting the whole Kelly situation. It felt like a great idea, but I couldn’t shake away all the fear associated with it.

It was another one of those things that’d eat away at my brain, but I guess that’d be okay. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now...

Theatre Arts wasn’t as boring as usual, but it was definitely a lot more chaotic. Commands for props here, calls for help with setting the lights up over there, and somewhere in between, lots of laughing coming from Charlotte and Rory.

It looked like Charlotte was blushing from here, but I couldn’t exactly tell. She and Rory were on the complete opposite side of the auditorium.

Professor Olson and I were skimming through the lists we had in front of us. It was hard to focus on the character descriptions I’ve read a gazillion times when I heard Charlotte’s vivacious laugh in the background.

“Alright,” Olson said, sounding exhausted already, “I’ve had some people hang posters around campus, so this shouldn’t be a hard place to find. Hopefully we get some new faces around here...”

Instantly, I looked over to Charlotte, still laughing at something Rory had said. Her smile brightened tenfold when she met my gaze, and she eagerly waved. With a small smile, I shook my head and looked back at Olson.

“That shouldn’t be too much of an issue,” I pulled out the form with all the auditionees on it and pointed to her name, “Charlotte Parker. Freshman.”

He nodded quizzically. “Anything unique about her?”

A lot, my brain immediately responded, though I shook the thought away.

“She performed at the Spotlite festival in London as a lead a few years back,” The professor’s eyebrows shot up, “and her school won. So I’d say she’s a pretty strong contender tonight.”

The fact that she was auditioning made me feel like I’d been punched in the gut by the universe. Exactly what I wished to not happen...happened. Though, at the same time, I couldn’t help but be a little excited to see what she could do on stage.

“That’s quite the accomplishment. Is there anyone else you know?”

As we ran through the list once more, a few names stuck out like sore thumbs; Rory, Danielle, Natalie, Clint, Jordan, and some frequents I’ve seen over the past couple years.

What finally tore my attention from the conversation was a gleeful scream.

“Skye!”

Charlotte. Duh.

Then, rushed footsteps up the aisle and towards the doors. A collision, then a groan of “why”. My guess: there was a hug and it’d been extremely one-sided.

That was Skye, alright.

Wait, my thoughts started to jumble together in panic, it’s already four?

Sure enough, I checked my watch. It was already a quarter til four.

“I hope you’re ready. It looks like this’ll be a long one.” Olson gestured back to the doors where Skye and Charlotte had still been talking. Several people were starting to flood into the seats, all with scripts in hand, and began to mingle.

“Jesus,” I mumbled.

As the start time approached, I got a little more nervous when thinking about the inevitable crashing and burning of this show if I let my feelings come before my job as a director.

Then, a loud timer rang off of Olson’s phone. He leaned over and whispered. “Show time.”

“Next, please!”

Already an hour in and we’d only made it through half of the list.

Jordan was on stage and running through their lines. They had a great way of controlling their emotions, but it all felt a little bland. However, it could’ve quite possibly been the scene they chose; a scene of the princess or prince daydreaming about the knight.

I knew it’d be a popular scene for auditions; it really goes into the character of the princess or prince by going through ranges of emotion, from happiness and love to humiliation and regret. The scene is extremely captivating and is a great choice for actors to showcase the abilities they could bring to the table if they got the role.

What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was the majority of the people auditioning for the role to use the same exact scene. Especially Jordan, who was usually someone who chose scenes that’d be risky for others.

Strange.

“Alright, thank you, Jordan.” Professor Olson said, composed as ever. It took him a few moments to finish writing in notes next to Jordan’s name, but then he finished and glanced at the auditionee list. “Next, I’d like to see Danielle. Start whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes rolled. She scampered up onto the stage, script in hand, and started with a completely different tone than the millions of other scenes we’d heard. I quickly searched for the passage she’d been reading from in the never-ending stack of papers on the table.

She was reading for the witch, surprisingly enough. Her voice was startlingly dark. It was deep, it was evil, it was rich, it was...what we’d been looking for in a witch. However, her downfall was the lack of control over her emotions.

“Alright, Danielle, thank you.” Olson held up his hand, jotting a quick note down next to her name. Voice: dark, brooding, menacing. Emotions: uncontrolled.

During the transition, I took a glance back at the list to see who’d be next, and my heart stopped. It’s like I couldn’t feel it beat in my chest; it’d felt like it stopped entirely-

“Kelly, whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes snapped up to the stage, and there she stood. For the most part, she’d been the same Kelly I fell for two years ago, but this time, I didn’t get the butterflies in my stomach. Instead, the sight made me a little uneasy. Obviously it wasn’t her appearance, because that was the same, but her very presence.

The only feelings I had were irritation and sorrow and cowardice and regret--

“Ajay, are you ready?” Olson asked. The room was silent, and so I realized they’d been waiting on me.

“Oh. Um, yeah, go ahead.” My voice was rushed, but I barely noticed as the nostalgic feeling of her chocolate brown eyes burning into my being washed over me. It didn’t make me nervous like it used to, nor did it render me speechless.

“Right. Um.” Kelly said anxiously, fiddling with her script before she started to repeat the average line for the prince and princess roles. I noticed that her voice had the same lilt, but something didn’t feel right with it.

It’s not for the right character, that’s why.

I tapped Olson’s shoulder and pointed to another character on the list, watching as he nodded.

“Kelly,” He interrupted her mid-sentence, and a look of fear glazed her eyes, “have you read over any lines for the witch?”

She shook her head, the look of fear melting into one of utter confusion.

“Flip back a page in your script and choose a line from the witch, then read it as you see fit. Take your time.”

I was so happy Olson was the one doing all the talking. I’d probably just tell her to move on at this point.

After a few moments, Kelly nodded and took a deep breath. Much like Danielle, she had the sharp undertones we’d been looking for, but they weren’t as clear as Danielle’s. Kelly, though, did have more control over her emotions.

I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I hoped Danielle would have more advantages over Kelly. I just didn’t want to work with her again, not after what happened.

“Alright, Kelly, we’ll consider you for both options. Thank you.”

At this point, Olson sounded exhausted beyond belief.

Kelly left the stage with a nod. My eyes met hers just before she vanished, and there was some emotion in them that I couldn’t quite place. Guilt, annoyance, confusion...I really didn’t know.

When she left the stage completely, it felt like there was a heavy weight lifted off of my shoulders.

“Well...let’s see here...” Olson mumbled under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee before he pointed down at one last list of names. “Only a few more left. How’re we looking?”

There’d been several great candidates for each role; this was always great, since then we’d have understudies and members for a complete ensemble.

“Like we’ll have some decisions to make, for sure,” I ran a hand through my hair as I read through the notes I made for each auditionee, “especially for a few of our veteran actors.”

It was true. Some were better for other roles, some didn’t have the strength or spark they did last year, some were improving...

“People change, scripts change, expectations change. It’s just a new journey to start,” When the exhausted professor smiled, the faintest purple bags beneath his eyes deepened, “and new journeys require a fresh and open mind.”

Somehow, Charlotte was the last to audition. When she was called to the stage, it was almost eight. Everyone in the house seats looked like they wanted to go home.

A familiar fluttering in my stomach appeared when she looked at me from beneath the stage lights. She looked like she’d been in her element, her smile shimmering and her eyes sparkling as she looked around at the red velvet seats in front of her. The script she held was neat and shook a bit, but her resolve remained calm and composed.

A good stage presence, I noted.

“Alright, Charlotte, because you’re new, do you have any questions I can answer before you start?” Olson’s voice gave way to his fatigue from asking the same question all evening, but Charlotte shook her head.

“All of my questions were answered throughout the evening,” She smiled, her voice smooth, “but if I have any, I’ll be sure to ask.”

That was an answer that made Olson blink in surprise. He wasn’t someone to be speechless, but those few seconds were definitely silent. It was clear she’d impressed him with just a sentence.

I definitely know the feeling...

“Excellent, so I believe you’re ready to go,” Olson wrote a few notes on his paper, then looked back up, “any specific role you’re auditioning for, or are you open to any?”

Charlotte cleared her throat and glanced at me before she focused on Olson once more. Her posture visibly straightened.

“I’d be open to any role. Lead, understudy, or ensemble.”

Jeez, she really does carry herself well.

“Sounds good...” After another scribbled note, Olson waved at her to continue. “Alright, whenever you’re ready.”

Her shoulders rose with a deep breath and she closed her eyes. It stayed that way for a second, and I couldn’t help but continue to admire her. It took strength to be that calm in front of a crowd.

She’s looks so natural up there, almost like that stage was built for her...

When her eyes opened, it’s like she’d transformed into an entirely new person. Her expression radiated innocence and her eyes filled with life, even more so than usual.

Then, she started to speak from a scene we hadn’t heard at all today. It was one where the prince or princess would come across the witch for the first time; this was a powerful and somewhat challenging scene, as the actor needed to portray multiple emotions at once while still keeping themselves under a neutral mask.

A minute passed, and then two, and then maybe even three. I had no idea. But, what I did know for sure, was that her acting was out of this world.

From what she’d put forth so far, it looked like she’d barely broken a sweat. Her voice was perfect and her control on her emotions was even better. She wasn’t overconfident, but calm. She was a force to be reckoned with on that stage, and it was equally empowering and terrifying. She had so much power, so much passion, so much potential...

She had everything we were looking for in this role.

Olson leaned over with wide eyes. “Wow. I...would like to believe we just found our princess.”

I couldn’t help but smile when the response left my mouth. “Absolutely.”

Then, the sudden horror dawned on me.

Princess. Charlotte...was princess.

It’d only been about ten minutes after she left the stage with a polite bow and dazzling smile that the entire auditorium started to empty out. Only a few stragglers were talking by the stage or the exits.

One of them in particular smiled and sped over to me.

“Ajay,” Charlotte grinned, “hi.”

“Charlotte,” I responded, “how’re you?”

She puffed out her rosy cheeks before letting the air out in a long sigh.

“So tired,” She was lightly laughing now. It was a little out of place, but it was cute. “Since I just decided to audition a few days ago, I’ve been pulling all-nighters with Leila to get my lines right.”

I feigned a smile and let a white lie slip through my teeth. “I’m glad you decided to audition.”

“Me too. I’m excited to see your directing skills in action,” She said this with a wink, “because it’s all I ever hear about from Rory.”

“Really?” Why does he talk about my directing...?

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He gushes about how great of a director you are, like, all the time. You really haven’t heard any of this?”

I gave her a deadpan look, and she huffed out a laugh.

“Well, you should ask him about it. I’m sure he’d gladly tell you about how amazing you are,” she said thoughtfully, “he looks up to you, you know. It’s easy to see by the way he talks about you.”

I can’t imagine why...

“That’s surpris--” Before I could get through my sentence, I watched Charlotte stumble forward into me. Everything felt like it’d been in slow motion; her eyes widening slowly as her arms opened to hold onto me. Without another thought, mine did the same, wrapping around her small form carefully.

“Whoa!” Charlotte gasped with her arms tight around my torso and cheek pressed against my chest. I felt my heart start to pound, so I started worrying she could feel it thumping against her cheek.

The sound of laughter could be heard behind her, and when I looked up, I caught a glimpse of Danielle and a few others sauntering away. I glared at their backs, my grip on Charlotte tightening by a fraction.

Danielle better keep to herself from now on, because if that happens again--

The thought made a snarl appear on my face, and I quickly shook it away.

“You okay?” I asked, instantly feeling her rapid nod against my chest. I expected her to move...but she didn’t.

“Y-Yeah, just caught off-guard, um, I’m good.” Her voice sounded panicked. She pulled away from me slowly, looking up into my eyes with a deep red blush. “Thanks for not letting me fall.”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice.” I teased, watching her eyes widen for a second before she looked away.

“Right. Well. Uh, I should probably get going. I already have a ton of homework,” she hummed, smiling once more, “I’ll see you...sometime this week?”

I nodded, returning her smile. My heart felt like it was floating.

“Of course. Good night, Charlotte.”

“G’night,” She smiled and waved, awkwardly walking out the door. This whole goodbye thing felt like the new normal - that is, watching her run off while I stay glued to my spot, still living in the previous moment and imagining her eyes, her voice, her smile--

“Ajay! C’mon, man,” Rory shouted from the stage, “let’s go get dinner before we starve.”

It was like I snapped from a daze when I blinked.

The effect she had on me was maddening, but I realized I couldn’t get enough of it. Everything about her was just so frustratingly perfect--

“I’m in the mood for some absurdly overpriced pizza,” I said abruptly, walking with Rory out into the cool September night air. He laughed, nodding in agreement.

“Ohhhh, me too!”

I could swear the scent of her perfume drifted along in the breeze, but that was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.

It was hard to fall asleep that night. Maybe...maybe greasy pizza wasn’t the best idea.

I kept flipping over, hoping to find that one magical position and miraculously succumb to sleep.

But I just couldn’t get her out of my head.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Why did I let this happen? She was definitely involved with the show now. My rule still applies to me!

But...Charlotte. Sweet, kind, talented Charlotte.

Ug. The temptation to scream into my pillow was terrifyingly high.

For the love of...

Then, a thought. With a blink, I reached over to grab my glasses and a pen. After I turned my phone’s flashlight on, the feeling of a leather book from underneath my pillow brushed against my fingers. At the feeling, I sighed.

September 17th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Why does life have to be so complicated?

It wasn’t anything extensive, but my brain felt tired after writing all of that. So...short entry it was. Oh, did I sign it?

Too late. It was already closed.

I still felt like I was going to explode, but it was less severe than before. Progress. Maybe I could fall asleep now.

When I put everything back and folded my glasses, my head dreadfully hit the pillow with a soft thud. To make matters even better, I thought about her audition. How it was breathtakingly powerful and absolutely stunning. About how her voice was perfect for the part. About how...

It’s going to be a long night.

#high school story class act #ajay bhandari #rory silva #erin ward #skye crandall #mc: charlotte parker #oc: leila maciel #ajay x mc #skye x oc #chapter ten! 🥳#<< why do i still use that tag #no idea #brief dementia mention #choices stories you play

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olivinesea · 4 years ago

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Satellite

a/n: Ask and ye shall receive I suppose. Here’s some more college Hotchniss nonsense. Still no plot (I promise I’m trying to think of something) and less angsty (I’m sorry, I know we love it). Also, exactly no one cares about this but the title is a big RIP to one of my favorite venues ever. ~2.3k

Hotch’s first concert.

He was not happy. Everything about this situation was the opposite of what he would normally choose to do. He deeply regretted ever making the deal that had landed him lurking in an alley, waiting for “he’s actually a nice guy” Sal to open the side door. He did not like Sal. He did not like the hungry way he looked down at Emily as she flashed her sauciest grin. He did not like Sal’s frowning dismissal of him when Emily had grabbed his hand to indicate she’d need a plus one tonight. Sal had told her to meet him at the side door—the bosses were in tonight and they didn’t appreciate their bouncer letting underage kids waltz in the front door.

Now they had been waiting by the rusty metal door for well over fifteen minutes. Emily was trying to hide her shivers, unwilling to admit she would have been better off with a jacket like he’d suggested. He let her think she was doing a good job of it, reserving his moment of gloating for the inevitable crumbling of this plan. He looked pointedly at his watch, which she loved to make fun of him for wearing. She raised her chin stubbornly.

“He’ll be here soon.”

Hotch didn’t respond, only raised an eyebrow at her. Surely she must realize the reason Sal had been letting her sneak into shows in the past was compromised by his presence. She scowled at him and crossed her arms tighter. He would offer her his sweater. He wanted to offer it. But he had learned quickly that Emily Prentiss was completely unwilling to admit being wrong. Goosebumps and frozen fingers be damned.

He was mentally preparing an argument that would let her save face while also getting them headed back to the dorms, which they never should have left on Wednesday night. There was a screech as the metal door finally wrenched open. He was glad she’d been staring hard at the entrance and therefore missed the shameful way he jumped at the unexpected sound.

Sal had decided it was still worth it to him to let them in. He subscribed to the numbers game philosophy and saw no reason to write off this number just because she turned up with an unwelcome attachment. Girls like that never stayed attached too long. He could be patient a little longer provided she didn't make a habit of wanting extra favors.

Emily turned to Hotch, her expression that of a cat smugly sitting on clean laundry. He almost laughed. He may not have wanted to be there but he was happy she was happy. It was a curiously simple emotion. One he never expected to feel for this girl who stumbled into his life only a few months ago. She grabbed his hand and excitedly dragged him to the open door. He pulled himself up as tall as he could and gave Sal a meaningful scowl as they passed by. They were almost the same height but the older man laughed at him. Hotch could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his muscles tensed but Emily was already pulling him into the building. She was too eager to notice the exchange and he was happy enough to let it go. He just hoped there would be no more of Sal tonight.

They entered what appeared to be a small lobby with a bar and fair number of people moving about. He was confused because he didn’t see any kind of stage but didn’t have time to ask. Instead he had to speed up to follow Emily, who dropped his hand and was weaving through the crowd, intent on some unknown destination. He was a little uncomfortable about how narrow some of the gaps she led him through were. He even brushed against several strangers, quickly apologizing before realizing that no one seemed to notice.

They reached another doorway in the opposite corner. It was darker on the far side and as much as he disliked this room with all the disorganized people, he didn’t know if he wanted to find out what was waiting for him beyond it. At least in this room there was a reasonable amount of light. At least in this room he could see the exit. She didn’t give him a choice, her dark hair swinging as she disappeared around a corner. He kept moving after the briefest hesitation. He didn’t want to lose her.

It turned out, to his horror, that the doorway led to a set of stairs. It only got darker and louder as they descended. He could feel the air pressing close and warm, the air of enclosed spaces with not enough room and too many bodies. She led him deeper into the crowd, toward a small stage cluttered with cords and mic stands. The stage was home to a trio of scraggly looking people that may or may not have been moaning in pain. He gave up on trying to avoid contact and instead hunched his shoulders protectively inwards. He hated everything about this. He was about to put a stop to it, to bail on this misadventure whether or not she thought less of him for it. Without warning she stopped and spun to face him. The smile on her face melted his resolve. He wondered if he’d ever seen a person this happy. It was certainly his first time seeing her smile like that.

She said something but he couldn't hear it. She pulled him down by his collar until she could yell in his ear.

“This is close enough for now.”

He wondered at the “for now” part of that statement but was satisfied to have stopped moving. Something knocked into him from behind and he felt something cold soaking into his shoulder. Alarmed he turned to see a man with a beer in his hand passing by. The man flashed a peace sign by way of apology before disappearing into the crowd. When he turned back to Emily his eyes were wide and indignant. She laughed mercilessly at the expression on his face. With the tips of his fingers, he pulled at the wet patch on his shoulder, his stomach turning in distaste. Abruptly her hands tugged at the hem of his sweater. She was trying to pull it up over his head. He struggled against the motion, everything about this place putting his nerves on high alert. She stepped back, eyeing his thrashing.

“It’s too hot in here!” She had to yell for him to hear.

His face remained blankly uncomprehending, blood busy rushing to his limbs to prepare for a quick escape. She mimed taking off a sweater and gestured at him. He felt foolish for not realizing and quickly shed the item. She wasn’t wrong. Though it was still too warm, he no longer felt like he might suffocate. He scanned the crowd around them and saw that they had a little more elbow room than before. People were mostly concentrated in groups of two or three, only half paying attention to whatever was happening on stage. She snatched the sweater out of his hands and wrapped it around his waist. He closed his eyes and for the hundredth time questioned the wisdom of becoming friends with someone with absolutely no boundaries. She tied the sleeves in place and laughed at him again when she appraised at her work. He made a face at her but appreciated that he wouldn’t have to hold something all night.

The questionable sounds from the stage stopped and things quieted down for a moment. Some house speakers turned on as the band started clearing the stage. The lighting got a little brighter, though it remained murky like pond water. He looked at her, perplexed.

“Is it over?” He tried not to hope too much.

She shook her head, a sly smile playing across her face. “That was just the opener. They’re not very good, are they?”

He looked at her, exasperated. It was already 11 o’clock. He could barely get her to their 8 am class under normal circumstances.

“Don’t worry, dad. Main act is next. I’m sure they’ll be out soon. Just relax.”

He scowled. He hated when she called him dad and he sincerely doubted he would ever feel relaxed trapped underground with a lunatic. He looked around again, mostly searching for the closest exit. He was coming to the unpleasant conclusion that the stairs they came down are also the only way out. She shoved a water bottle in his hand and without thinking about it, he took a swig. He almost choked on the vicious burn of warm vodka. He glared at her, eyebrows drawn together as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the fuck Emily.”

The smell of it settled unpleasantly in his sinuses and he rubbed his nose, hoping it would dissipate. She shrugged and took the bottle back quickly.

“Try to be a little less obvious, nerd.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course she thought he was the one causing a problem here. She drank from the water bottle, her only reaction a small frown as she swallowed.

“Where did you even have that?” he hissed. Her short skirt and crop top didn’t provide a lot of hiding places.

“You don’t want to know.”

He shook his head when she tried to offer it to him again. So she finished off the liquor, whistling through her teeth after the last gulp. He was about to fuss at her—for the drinking, for the late night, for the literally unsafe conditions they were in, but she had turned all her attention up front. The lights had gone down—somehow darker than before, he thought—and the whole crowd had gone silent. He could just make out silhouettes of the musicians taking their places on stage.

A spotlight came up on the singer, center stage and the crowd cheered. Her eyes reflected the light menacingly and she had a smile like a dagger. He wondered if she inspired fear in everyone there, and, if so, why they seemed to enjoy it. She started singing and he was as entranced as the rest of them. A cappella at first, she drew the crowd into her. They swayed gently like a sea of charmed snakes. Just as he felt he might float away on her melody, the drums crashed in and the spell was released. Everyone was jumping and flailing to the driving guitar and percussion. The singer’s voice was still beautiful, but in the same way a broken window was beautiful, shattered glass sprayed across the ground.

The abrupt shift immobilized him until Emily grabbed both his hands and pulled him towards her. She was laughing and singing and showed no trace of the shadows that always seem to be weighing her down. Tonight she was completely without stress or guilt. She was free inside this confined space in a way he didn't think he had ever experienced himself. She wanted him to feel it too and folded him into a tight embrace, just for a moment, pressing her elation into his chest. She broke away and began dancing with the crowd, hoping to lead by example. It must have worked because he could feel the tension inside him uncurling.

He caught her hand, initiating contact for the first time. With smooth, practiced movements he pulled her into a spin. She shrieked but he could hear her calling, “Again! Again!” He smiled, happy to oblige, barely sparing a thought for the contrast between the stiff, brightly lit auditorium where he learned this skill and this chaotic dance floor. He had never appreciated those awkward lessons, they required too much contact, too much presence. No one wanted to dance with the 15-year-old loner with the bad temper and holes in his shoes. Even if they had, high school bodies, still awkward and mismanaged, did not make for the best dance partners.

But Emily, she flew, directed by the smallest touch. He closed his eyes and leaned back slightly to counter-balance the speed at which she was spinning away. They might be the only people on earth and he was fine with that. The song ended and she collapsed into him, slightly out of breath and grinning. She started to ask him a question but the next song started and she yelped. It was a favorite. She turned back to the stage and he let her go, just enjoying the way she moved without inhibition. He would join her again in a moment but he needed a little time to hold this feeling close.

By the time it was over they were both sweaty and a little gritty. They were swept up and out with the rest of the crowd. He was mildly disturbed by the press of bodies in the stairwell but they quickly found themselves exiting the building. The night air was frigid after the sauna they’d been marinating in for the last few hours. He insisted that she wear his sweater on their walk home, refusing to acknowledge the way she grumbled. They walked quietly, both still in awe of the experience. His heart was so full but he wasn’t sure how to tell her. He settled on something simple.

“I had a good time.”

“Hmm?” She was deep in thought and didn’t catch his mumbled words.

He clears his throat. “I said I had a good time.”

“Of course you did. I told you you would.” She was flip as ever.

He exhales through his nose and shakes his head. He supposed it probably didn’t matter all that much but he’d still like her to know he was being sincere.

She linked her arm through his, pressing against his side.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. She sounded serious, no longer teasing him.

“For what?”

“For trusting me.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #college hotchniss #fanfiction

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floralguccistyles · 4 years ago

Photo

Long time no post! Things in my life have been crazy, from health problems with both myself and family members, to the deaths of both my grandpa and my cat, and work/school has been insane. I hope y’all forgive me and I hope this makes up for it. Let me know what you think!

wildflower :: chapter three

...and brings you flowers

Considering my morning started with having to deal with a customer whose key card didn’t work to get into their room, I could assume today was going to be a rough day.

Things only continued to spiral downhill when I had finished getting the key card situation handled only to walk into the kitchen and find the coffee machine was broken. One of the chefs jokingly told me to make myself a cup of tea, but I think he got a little scared when my lower lip jutted out and started wobbling in frustration. I wasn’t going to cry, but that didn’t mean the tears wouldn’t stubbornly well up behind my eyes.

If that wasn’t enough, on my break I had stubbed my toe on the corner coming around from checking up on one of the rooms. I had sworn very, very loudly in front of a family of four with two kids under twelve and the parents had glared at me. I hoped they had the decency to see that I was having a bad day and wouldn’t tell my supervisor.

All I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a good book, a rom-com playing in the background, and maybe some soup.

My day was only made worse when I saw Violet walking through the lobby doors as I was leaving.

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a huff of irritated breath. She had her book bag thrown over her shoulder, holding onto the strap on her shoulder so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break. “What’re you doing here?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting my boss to hear me talking to anyone the way I was talking to Violet. Unfortunately, my boss Clara was an only child and wouldn’t understand the sister love-hate bond Violet and I had.

“Nice to see you too.” Violet looked frustratingly put together, as she always did. She had definitely sucked up the good looks that had obviously skipped the poor middle child (me). Her long hair was curled delicately and though she didn’t wear much makeup, she had never needed it. She had eyelashes models would kill for. “I was wondering if we could go get coffee or something.”

“Coffee? We don’t do coffee.”

“Christ, Rose, is it really that much of an inconvenience to hang out with your sister?” she asked incredulously, rolling her eyes at my reluctance. “I thought we could talk, hang out, get some coffee out of it. It’s not the end of the world.”

I had obviously done something to piss off whatever higher being existed because the icing on the cake to my terrible day was dealing with Violet’s snark. To simply stop her from complaining (because she was world-class at it), I sighed. “Fine. But you’re buying.”

“You’re the one with the full-time job!”

“Do you want to get coffee or not?”

“I’m regretting my choice now,” Violet said simply, but gestured towards the door of the building. She had an old car Niall had actually helped her find when she had started college, so we piled into it. I didn’t know what coffee place she was taking us to, but I decided I didn’t care. I hadn’t had any coffee this morning, and I was in desperate need. Plus, if Violet had a hundred dollars to make on the bet with Lily and Niall, she had enough money to buy me a four dollar cup of coffee.

She pulled into a little coffee house that was close to the campus Niall worked at. I wondered briefly if he frequented it when he worked. When we walked in, the smell of coffee beans hit my nose and gave me a small reprieve from the terrible day. “What do you want? Their caramel stuff is really good.”

“Whatever you get is fine.” Though Violet had questionable taste in most things, her taste in coffee was impeccable. She nodded and walked to the bar to order while I found us a place to sit, close to the window in case I needed to zone out and have something pretty to look at if Violet got too annoying. When she returned, she set my coffee in front of me and took a seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor and making the both of us wince. I took a small sip of the coffee (something caramel, as she had suggested) and instantly felt ten times better. “This is the only good thing to happen to me all day.”

Violet rolled her eyes, mumbled something about me being overdramatic underneath her breath. “Lily thinks I need to apologize.”

“I think so too.”

“I don’t.”

I gestured to the coffee shop. “Then what’s the point of this?”

“You bit my head off when I was trying to explain last time. I was hoping you’d sit and actually have a civil conversation with me about things.” When I didn’t respond, just gestured for her to continue, she did. “I didn’t get you the psychologist’s number because I think you’re pathetic or that you can’t handle shit. I got it for you because no woman should ever be propositioned for sex and it’s absolutely disgusting that the prick tried to do some sort of quid-pro-quo and got nothing more than a slap on the wrist. And if I’m feeling that, as a third party, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about it. So I got you her number in case you wanted to talk.”

“But you didn’t ask me beforehand. You went behind my back.”

“Because that’s what people do when they care about you, Rose!” Violet exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Christ, if I thought it would be this much work, I would have just saved myself the trouble. I just think it’s shitty he’s getting away with it, so I thought maybe you’d want to talk to someone. It’s not a problem that you can’t sleep without someone there, but don’t you think you need to analyze why? Especially because you never had a problem with it before. And you’re still paying too much money for rent in a flat you don’t even live in anymore.”

There was no point in arguing with her because she, frustratingly, wasn’t wrong. It was shitty that Kent was getting away with it and I probably was stupid for paying money for an apartment I wasn’t staying in. But I had gotten that trademark Fairbrough stubbornness, and I wanted to handle things my own way, as I had always done in my life.

“I appreciate it and can understand where you were coming from.” The words felt like lead on my tongue because I was a prideful person. “But I honestly don’t think I need to talk to someone. If I do think I need help, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

“We both know that’s a lie. You’d sooner call Lily or Niall before you’d call me,” she replied in a snarky voice, taking a sip of her latte and staring out the window.

I didn’t bother correcting her.

“Look,” she said after a couple of moments, all of which were spent sipping at our drinks and not talking to one another, “will you just take the card? You don’t have to do anything with it, but it’ll make me feel better if you just take it.”

“Fine. But only because you bought me coffee.”

When I returned home to Lily’s flat, the psychologist’s number in my bag, I toed off my shoes and flung myself onto the couch. I wouldn’t nap because then sleeping tonight would be even more difficult, but I did just close my eyes and rest there for several moments while the bad day crashed over me. Distantly, I heard the sound of Lily’s front door swinging open and groaned out to her, letting her know I was on the couch.

“Rosebud, you okay?”

I turned my body around at Niall’s voice, nodding my head slightly. “Hi, Niall. Where’s Lily?”

“One of her clients called. They’ve got to meet her at the prison.” He moved my feet, sliding his body underneath before he deposited them back on his lap.

“I had the worst day,” I answered his question a little late, sighing out as he gave me sympathetic eyes. “I think I might meet with my landlord next week. My lease is up next month and...I mean, I’m basically living here. I just don’t know if I want to let it go yet. It was the first apartment I rented on my own. And I don’t know if Lily wants me around forever…”

“Lily will let you stay with her as long as you need, you know that.” He reached forward and started massaging my calf, causing me to close my eyes sleepily underneath his touch. “Why was your day bad?”

“People at work. Then the coffee machine was broken. Then Violet came in.”

He laughed, but it was faraway. I was slipping into unconsciousness, and I knew if Niall didn’t stop massaging my leg, I was going to drift off. “You’ve got to stop,” I told him, pulling one of my legs away to poke him with my toe.

His hands hesitantly left my other leg. “Why? Uncomfortable?”

“Too comfortable,” I corrected, shaking my head. “I don’t want to nap and have a shitty night of sleep tonight.

“Just nap, Rosebud. You look like you need it. Do you work tomorrow?”

I shook my head, because thankfully I had tomorrow off.

“Then, c’mon.” He moved my feet again and stood up, holding out a hand for me to take. I groggily grabbed it in my own, allowing him to pull me to my feet and lead me to my room. I flopped myself onto my bed and smiled as he tucked me in, patting down the blankets so they would stay put. It was only when I was underneath my covers that I realized how much the day had taken out of me. Any morning without coffee always exhausted me, but meeting with Violet had just done me in.

“How was your day?” I asked sleepily, reaching out and lacing our fingers together. He squeezed my fingers. “Are you feeling a little better from the sexual assault situation?”

He sighed. “I’m never going to feel good about it, Rosebud. The fact that any of my athletes could do that to someone...it tore me up inside.”

I decided Niall needed a nap almost as much as I did. I patted the spot next to me, inviting him to rest with me on the other side of my bed. He sent me a small smile, pushing off his shoes from his feet and lowering himself onto my bed, over the covers since he didn’t get nearly as cold as I did.

“Rest with me,” I requested softly. “We could both use the sleep.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “You’re one of a kind, Rosebud.”

I smiled, snuggling closer to him. His arm came around to rest on my waist, pulling me closer to him until my skin was pressed against his skin.

We must have only napped for an hour or so, but I woke up before Niall did. He was knocked out onto my lavender pillow, a tiny bit of drool sneaking out of his open mouth. At least he didn’t snore as much as I apparently did. His entire body was curled, crunched up like even in sleep, his tension wouldn’t leave him. I realized when I stretched that our legs were slightly tangled together, his hand still on my waist. My skin was warm where his fingers touched.

Niall was truly, unfairly attractive. Now that I could look at him without the awkwardness of him realizing I was staring, I could easily admit that to myself. I had always known Niall was a handsome guy, but he was always unattainable. He was Lily’s. I had no business thinking he was attractive.

But his brown hair was fluffed on the right side where it pressed against my pillow, and he had an adorable sleeping face and I admitted to myself right then and there that Niall Horan was beautiful. The fact that he basically belonged to Lily didn’t change that, and it probably never would.

“Stop staring at me,” he said softly, his lips curling up at the corners.

I jumped, not expecting his voice since I still believed he was in the middle of sleeping. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. How’d you know I was staring?”

“I felt in my soul that there was a pair of beautiful big brown eyes on me, and look at that,” he said, opening his own beautiful big eyes and grinning, “I was right.”

“You’re full of shit, is what you are.” But I found myself leaning back down on my bed and quietly taking in the silence with him. Silence was never uncomfortable with Niall like it was with other people. “Thanks for napping with me.”

“Hopefully it made your bad day a little better.”

“It did.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I sleepily reached for it, reading the text from Lily.

Getting dinner with Carmen. We’ve both had a shitty day and have to discuss some things about the case. Feel free to use anything in the fridge for dinner tonight!

“Want to go get some food?” I asked Niall, showing him the text from Lily.

“Sure. I can go pick up some Nando’s, if you want.”

I groaned, leaning my head into his shoulder. “You are my knight in shining armor. The wind beneath my wings. An angel among us mere mortals.”

“You’re more dramatic than usual today. The chicken pita like usual?” He stood from the bed, readjusting his shirt that had been slightly wrinkled in our nap. As he ran his hands through his hair, I found myself distracted by his forearms, which were showcased by the rolled-up sleeves he was sporting. I’d never really noticed Niall’s arms before, but they were as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Had I mentioned how unfairly beautiful he was?

“Yes, please. I think I have some soda and ice cream. I can make us some floats?”

“You’ve got root beer?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I think so?”

He laughed at my uncertainty, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Alright. I’ll call in and go grab it really quick. See you in about thirty.”

“Thanks, Niall!”

“Anything for my Rosebud.”

I took the time he was gone to tidy up around the apartment a little. I wasn’t a messy person by any means, but with my bad day, I had left a little trail of Rose-messes on the couch and in the foyer, where I had deposited my shoes without a care in the world. The last thing I wanted was for Lily to come home and see my mess and decide she didn’t want me living with her. It was bad enough I still hadn’t found the necklace she had given me. Niall had scoured his place trying to find it, so I wondered if I had drunkenly taken it off at the bar that night with Niamh and Pat. Leaving her apartment a mess just felt like another strike against me.

Niall returned about forty minutes later, ringing the doorbell because his hands were full of food. He grinned as I opened the door, reaching out his arm to hand me the food in the Nando’s bags. It was only after I had the food in my arms that I realized he was carrying another bag.

“What’d you get?” I asked, kicking the door shut with my foot as soon as he walked into the apartment. I set the food on the counter and got my phone out. “How much do I owe you? I can Venmo.”

“Put your fucking phone away,” he said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I got you something.”

His hand dipped into the bag at his side and pulled out something green and leafy. It looked like flowers, but I couldn’t see any blooms. However, when he handed them to me, I could suddenly see the tiny little buds at the end of some of the stems. “Rose buds for my Rosebud!” he exclaimed happily. “I know you were having a bad day, so I thought—oof!”

His breath left his body when I crashed into him, hugging him around the waist so tightly I thought I might pop him like a balloon. I was embarrassed to feel tears well up in my eyes at the sweet gesture, but the truth was, he had already made my day ten times better just by hanging around. And no boy had ever bought me flowers before.

“Don’t cry,” he said when he pulled away, giving me a smile and wiping underneath my eye with his thumb. “They were supposed to make you smile.”

“You’re just…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to perfectly describe the boy in front of me. “You are everything,” I decided, pulling him back into my arms, content to just hold him there for a little longer.

He chuckled, his breath stirring the hairs on my head. I felt him squeeze my shoulders, reminding me that this was real and he was here. “Not everything,” he argued softly, “just someone who cares about you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nodded towards Niamh, who was currently freezing her ass off outside of my apartment. We had met up with my landlord to discuss me not living there when my lease was up. However, every time I thought about giving up my own little apartment, the first big purchase I had made as a working adult...it filled me with dread.

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me for free, Rose,” Lily added. She had found out Niamh planned to accompany me and had invited herself. It wasn’t a problem, since Niamh and Lily got along fairly well, but after Lily’s recent schemes with Violet to get me in to see a counselor, I was a little wary of going through with this while Lily was here. Mostly, I didn’t want her to see me burst into tears and then turn around and make a plan with Violet to kidnap me and take me to the therapist. “You don’t have to give up your place.”

But I did. I hated staying there at night, because I felt an uncomfortable crawling on my skin, like Kent was watching me somewhere. It was irrational of me to feel that way, but it didn’t stop the fear when I was alone at night. “It’s a waste of money,” I replied, and wondered if Lily and Niamh could hear the reluctance in my voice. “Giving it up is smart.”

“You want to at least go inside and start packing some things up?” Niamh asked. I could hear her teeth chattering. It wasn’t particularly cold outside, but Niamh always ran a little chillier than the average person.

I probably should. While most of my stuff was at Lily’s now, it would still be nice to go in and see what things I still had in my apartment. The pretty jewelry holder my grandmother had given me was there, along with some shoes that I didn’t wear everyday. The orange lamp my mom had given me for my college dorm was sitting on my nightstand, with the cute little pink mosaics on it that I loved. But seeing that stuff would make me sad, especially because I didn’t want to give up that little space yet.

Just because something was smart and right didn’t mean it was easy.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just go to lunch.”

They shared a look with each other, but luckily didn’t push. Niamh because she wasn’t that kind of person, and Lily because she still felt bad about the whole Violet thing.

Niall and Pat were meeting us for lunch, effectively making me the fifth wheel. However, if it meant I got my money, Niall could join us for every meal he wanted to; Pat was fun to have around. Niamh called an Uber to the little deli she often frequented when she was done with work and when the driver pulled up to the restaurant, Niall and Pat were already sitting outside.

“Morning ladies,” Pat said happily, pulling out the chair next to him for Niamh to sit. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. Niall had two open seats on either side of him, so I slid into one. “We already ordered your food.”

“You know my order?” I asked Pat, raising my brow.

“No, but Niall does.”

I gave Niall a surprised look. Sure, he knew my Nando’s order because he usually picked it up for Lily and I, but I assumed he had only committed Lily’s order for the deli to memory. “Thanks, Ni. Did you get your usual roast beef?”

“You know me well,” he said, smiling. “I also got you some orange juice.”

Orange juice was my comfort drink. I liked having it when I was sad or nostalgic. When I gave him another surprised look, he shrugged.

“I know seeing your flat probably made you upset, so I figured you’d want some orange juice.”

Smiling softly, I reached over to give him a one-armed hug. I caught the tail end of a look that Niamh and Pat gave one another, their eyebrows furrowed as if they were trying to figure something out. They did this often; I joked that they were so in-tune with one another that they were of one mind. Before I could ask them what their looks meant, however, the server was setting down our drinks and food. Niall had been correct in my favorite sandwich, a turkey with Swiss cheese and extra oil and vinegar. He had also switched out my fries (or as he called them “chips” and playfully rolled his eyes when I said it wrong) for sweet potato fries, which were another weakness.

“Thanks, Ni,” Lily said when her own food arrived. She gave him a small peck on the cheek and I swore I saw dollar signs flash before my eyes.

There was something else, though. Something ugly that clawed at the front of my chest. I didn’t know what it was, but I’d never felt that way before, especially around Lily and Niall. I took a bite of my sandwich to distract me from it.

“How was the flat?” Niall asked.

I tried not to flinch at the thought of it, but a sour expression must have taken over my face. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry, Rosebud. I know you’re sad about leaving it.”

It was stupid to be getting so worked up over nothing but brick and wood, but I had put my all into making that little apartment feel like home. The canvas art that I had purchased at a little family-owned gallery hung perfectly above the tiny little fire place. Lily’s apartment didn’t have a fireplace for me to hang them over. Then there was the macrame plant holder that I had bought on Etsy that made me smile whenever I woke up to it because the sun from my window was always shining on it when my alarm went off.

It was the first place that had been all mine. I didn’t mind sharing things with Lily, and I didn’t even mind sharing places with Violet. But that apartment had been Rose Fairbrough’s and no one else’s.

It felt like I was losing a part of myself.

Niamh seemed to notice the expression on my face and quickly changed the subject, prattling on about something else to keep the group occupied. I shot her a grateful smile. Freshman-year-me sure got lucky with Niamh as a roommate, and twenty-four-year-old-me was lucky that Niamh still wanted to be my friend. And through Niamh, I had met Pat, who never made me feel like a third-wheel when we all hung out. Though Niall and Lily were my people, Lily was my sister and Niall had been Lily’s best friend first. Niamh and Pat were, like my apartment, my own friends that I had made myself.

“I promised Violet I’d take her home from school and go shopping with her,” Lily said, looking at her phone after we had all finished eating. Her eyes caught mine. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come.”

I think I would rather have thrown myself off a bridge, but I didn’t tell Lily that. “I actually went to coffee with Violet earlier this week, so I’ve filled my quota.”

I felt better about denying this outing with them when Lily’s eyes lit up. “You guys got coffee this week? That’s wonderful!”

“It was fine. No big deal.” I had gotten free coffee out of it and Violet had only talked about the therapist for the first five minutes, so the trip actually hadn’t been as terrible as I had expected.

“That’s a huge deal,” Lily said, smiling widely. “We’ll have to do another sister night soon.”

Niall covered his laugh with a cough when he caught the look on my face.

Lily said her goodbyes, kissing both mine and Niall’s cheeks before she was off. Niamh and Pat only stayed a couple more minutes before they followed behind Lily. That left Niall and I at the table by ourselves, finishing up our lunches.

“What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” he asked, giving me a charming smile. He collected our trash and deposited them into the bin, and I strangely watched his legs move as he did so.

“Just hanging at the house. You?”

“Meeting with one of my athletes. He’s got an idea for eco-friendly sport equipment and he wants to run it by me.”

My eyebrows raised. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah, I’m excited to hear about it. You need a ride home?”

I nodded and he led me to his car, a modest Toyota that he had bought as soon as he got the job at the college. When I slid into the passenger seat, I noticed something hanging from his rearview mirror.

“Hey! You found it!” I said excitedly, leaning forward and touching the tiny butterfly charm.

“Oh yeah, I did. I put it up there this morning to remind me to give it back to you. I like having it there. Makes me feel like you’re watching out for me when I’m driving.” He gently removed it from his rearview and handed it to me with a smile.

“Thanks. Help me put it on?” I unhooked the clasp and wrapped the two sides around my neck. His fingers on my skin made me shiver, but I filed the reaction away for a time where I could dissect it later.

He didn’t pull his hands away for several moments. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as one of his fingers softly poked at a spot on my flesh. “Hey,” he said softly, “you have a birthmark here. It’s shaped like a tree.”

“You’ve never noticed?” I asked, trying my best to clear my throat. My voice sounded suddenly throaty, like I had something caught in it.

He chuckled, pulling away enough to have me feeling like I could breathe again. “I think I learn something new about you every time I see you, Rosebud. It’s impossible to know all of you.” I felt the car engine rumble as he started the car and pulled away from the curb.

“You know me better than most people do.”

“Yeah?” he asked, reaching out and tapping my knee. I found myself smiling at the gesture. It was so...Niall.

“Yeah.”

And it was true. Niall knew me better than nearly everyone in my life, except Lily. The fact that he knew me better than Violet and my parents was something I held dear to my heart. It was just impossible to not unveil your soul to Niall. He was open and honest and caring. The world needed more people like him.

Too quickly, we were pulling up to the apartment. I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but I knew he had the meeting with his athlete and probably had to get going. “Thanks for finding my necklace.”

“Of course, Rosebud. I know how much it means to you.”

I thought about what he said, about feeling like I was with him when he was driving. Without another second to think about it, I unhooked the rose necklace I had worn to lunch today in my other necklace’s absence. “Here,” I said softly, leaning forward and wrapping it around his rearview mirror. “So I’ll always be with you when you’re driving.”

His finger gently touched the charm, and a slow smile spread across his face. “A rose to help me think of my Rosebud?”

“Always.”

He chuckled, and in a move that surprised me, pulled me over towards him so he could press a kiss to my forehead. “One problem, Rose. I’m always thinking about you. A necklace doesn’t change that.”

#wildflower #wf #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan au #1dff

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bunny9girl · 4 years ago

Text

Age Gap... AU

One Piece~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA, nakedness and language.

Part 2

Exstra 😱😵🖊 {At some point I couldn't stop writing.}

Portgas D. Ace 🔥

🔥You met Ace at school during one of your art classes.

🔥He came in to do a favor for one of your teachers, to give tips on art and give you guys professional guidance and at some point he posed as a model.

🔥Yes a model !!!

🔥Soooo you kinda got to see him naked the first time you met, he was opened with all his god like built.

🔥When the class was done sketching. He caught a glimpse of your work seeing as it wasn't nearly done, so he offered to stay longer for you to finish.

🔥God damn you wish he didn't, him being there is the very reason your sketch wasn't done. It was too embarrassing to look at a naked man infront of you and sketch.

🔥Not knowing which to concentrate on?

🔥Ace saw that, and offer to help you like exstra lessons at his home maybe improve the areas you lack at.

🔥And you gladly took that offer.

🔥At some point after teaching you for half a year. You started just acting like a couple without knowing when it actually happened.

🔥Ace loves his s/o with every bit of his heart.

🔥You spend most of you free time with each other, either sketching each other or chilling playing video games or talking.

🔥Ace is a professional artist, with both a degree and diploma in practical arts, so ofcourse his art is going to so much more advanced than yours.

🔥You love staring at him while he paints.

🔥Ace loves not wearing a shirt proves he is comfortable in his own skin, he also got his s/o into wearing less clothes.

🔥With the less clothes you got use to drawing him only in boxers.

🔥And somehow you guys turned into that couple that's completely fine with walking around each other naked in his apartment alone.

🔥Ace's job is something he loves doing while having fun. Yes he does teach arts at a university.

🔥Remember your still in high school not in a college/university.. yet.

🔥Ace is a very clingy man he will hug you a lot even when his naked. He gives you a lot of pet names he's favorite is, teachers pet.

🔥He doesn't do small half ass kisses. Its either long and passionate or heavily horny make out.

🔥Ace's s/o loves the tattoos on his skin, trenching her/his fingers over his arm or back.

🔥Ace reminds you of a cowboy though to his country style and mostly the hat in his bedroom.

🔥Yes you have met his friends especially Marco, you didn't mind hanging out with them their nice people and fun.

🔥You met Ace's family the first week he started teaching you. You met his two brothers and his Father that goes by White Beard.

🔥The second White Beard met you, he told Ace to never let you go or he will beat the crab out of him

🔥Ace took it to heart and loved you even more.

🔥You never really told your parents that your dating Ace. One day you just brought him home and hanged out in your room, at some point they just assume you guys are dating and they we're all right with it.

🔥When it comes to drawing Ace, you love to draw his face the most, make it look like his freckles are stars.

🔥His black hair and freckles are the most notable features on him.

🔥Your first date, wasn't that bad except at a random part he fell asleep

🔥In the beginning when he started teaching you, you though he was just tired but it happens frequently so it made you worried.

🔥He calmed your nerves telling you he has narcolepsy and his fine, might fall asleep at random times but his okay.

🔥It made you relax, and questioned him if there's a way to stop it but he only shook his head and dropping down on you snoring as he sleep hug you.

🔥You can only ask him help with art work/homework anything related to art otherwise not he can't help, he'd be just as dumbfounded as you.

🔥He inspired you to get a tattoo of your own name in your (Body part), but he was against the idea of a random person touching so he did it himself.

🔥Accidentally spelled one letter wrong so he had to cross it out, you strated yapping at him that he did it purposely.

🔥He made it up to you by giving you another tattoo on your (Body part) that was your favorite (animal of your choice/any tattoo of your choice.)

🔥You guys never gets mistaken for relatives or family members even friends, cause Ace's is all over you, making out even sucking on your neck.

🔥But they do know you guys have an age difference but they don't know how much

🔥His already in his late twenties, and doesn't care as long as you are with him and love him for who he is rather than his age he'll love you back.

🔥You were happy afterwards.

🔥PDA *Public display of affection*

🔥He would hold your hand even kiss you.

🔥But he loves wrapping an arm around your waist having you lean against his body.

🔥Signaling others that you are taken and your his property.

🔥PDA kissing😏😳 just like I said, Ace only allows long and passionate or heavily horny make out kissing.

🔥He makes sure sexual tension rise when your with him, his happy knowing you desire him, so does he.

🔥The fire in your relationship might take a very long time to whither away.

🔥He loves you dearly.

Exstra exstra!!!

Portgas D. Shanks 🍺

🍺Unlike the others Shanks is way older. Reaching 37.

🍺But very childish and energetic.

🍺You decided to take on a part time job just to own a little side cash for yourself, you start working as a waitress/waiter at an old diner in town.

🍺One day Shanks and his friends came in after work to hang out and drink the place dry having some sort of celebration.

��And his glad he came along, (His friends might've made him go unwilling) but his glad one glimpse of you and he already knows what's for dinner on the menu.

🍺At first glance he didn't seem very approachable, maybe it was his appearance the three scars over his eye or maybe his big god like built

🍺But once spoken to him he passed off a kind caring and loving atmosphere his actions where so nice he even apologized for accidentally touching your hand

🍺Through out the night he shot complements and cheesey pick up lines, that made you either giggle or blush.

🍺You where kinda sad when he left. (or rather his friends dragged his black out ass out of the diner)

🍺You really wanted his number or at least his name.

🍺The next day he came in for breakfast, you were lucky to catch him, some how you talked the day over with him.

🍺So on he came in everyday, either for breakfast lunch or dinner, which pleased you very much.

🍺on some occassions you joined him, being able to enjoy the food you cooked and seeing him enjoy your cooking as well as the beer you pour for him.

🍺One evening your co worker pointed out that you must have been enjoying your dates.

🍺You were a little confused but decided to ask Shanks himself

🍺"Yeah, we've been going on dates for awhile now, why?"

🍺"u-umm?" That was your only response.

🍺You just let go, and decided to start calling yourself Shanks's girlfriend/boyfriend.

🍺He made sure you never regret it

🍺Later on you guys hanged out more outside of your part time job, and more at his house

🍺He began loving you more and more each day he's kinda a clingy guy

🍺He loves holding you in his arm and kissing you all over your face and neck.

🍺Only way he can show you how much he respects and care even loves you.

🍺He was happy that you didn't back away when you saw his missing arm.

🍺But you love how he still cable of a lot of things and doesn't need anyone's pity

🍺It makes you few him in a new light

🍺But sometimes he takes advantage of his disability and asks for your help, like putting on his shirt or drying his hair, a lot of other more minor stuff that might give you naughty thoughts.

🍺You know exactly what he's doing, but you get to enjoy it too.

🍺He can't help but laugh at you blushing at his bare skin, he loves you trying to be innocent

🍺Shanks has great friends their all lively like him and loves to drink as much as him. Whenever you come over to his place you might meet 3 or 7 of his friends enjoying a beer and BBQ.

🍺They respect Shanks very much, and is happy for him that he found someone that can deal with his childlike nature and take care of him at the same time

🍺When you are hanging out with them, they always tease Shanks and you making Shanks fall in a fit of laughter and you blush madly in his lap.

🍺School work/homework is something you can easily ask Shanks about he might not have all the answers but he knows more than he lets on.

🍺So at times you get better grades than you did before, the way he explained some things made it easier hand that you played more attention to your hot older boyfriend.

🍺But Shanks doesn't have much family left and never saw why you need to meet those his not close too.

🍺You just simply forgot to introduce him to your parents.

🍺Until it back fired, you forgetting to introduce him made the situation even more difficult.

🍺You just mindlessly invited him to a one of your family BBQ's and he cheerfully agreed.

🍺Once he came by the weekend that's when you remember that you forgot to introduce him to your parents before your family and distance relatives and family friends.

🍺You sucked it up and acted normal, which displeased Shanks since you didn't sit on his lap or kiss him much not even hugs.

🍺At first he thought you were embarrassed of him but saw you running around handing drinks and snacks to those who just use you as an little servant girl/boy, too lazy to get off their own asses and do it themselves.

🍺He also knows you have a hard time saying no, since you are a good person and very nice

🍺He decided to deal with the matter himself.

🍺Place down his beer, he grabbed your little ass that was about to hurry pass him, pulling you down onto his lap hugging you to his chest.

🍺Your tired body automatically rest on him laying your face in his neck

🍺Not a few seconds later you two started having a nice loving conversation he made you giggle at his words. Rubbing his hand in circles on your back.

🍺Making you love him more.

🍺That's when your mother/mom came by angry calling you lazy for not helping the others around.

🍺Before you could get up and back to "helping" the family, Shanks grip around your waist tighten.

🍺"Listen here, miss. I'm not a rude guy but the table is right over there, now I haven't seen (y/n) for entire week cause of my business trip. Now they can serve themselves, or can they all not walk."

🍺Your mother/mom got furious now turning to you.

🍺"Whose this?" She simply pointed at the red head

🍺"(Y/n)'s man... lover... Boyfriend. Which do you prefer miss?"

🍺"I forbid you to see him ever again."

🍺"You can't. (Y/n) is 18 an gown adult so she/he can make her/his own decisions. You have no say in the matter."

🍺Your mother/mom huffed crossing her arms stomping away. Not liking him one bit

🍺Your Dad/father couldn't help but laugh liking Shanks even more.

🍺This is the kind of guy he'd let his daughter/son marry one that can stand up to your mother/mom stupid shit.

🍺You thought that was the end but the tables quickly turned on your mother/mom.

🍺Shanks is truly the one for you.

🍺So having him meet your parents didn't go all that well especially with your mother/mom.

🍺The things you love about Shanks ofcourse his personality and body.

🍺But his red hair is what you love the most, running your fingers through the red locks makes you happy all the time. Is truly a beautiful color.

🍺Red has a range of symbolic meanings, including life, health, vigor, war, courage, anger, love and religious.

🍺You even asked if its his natural hair color and you got a yes, he even proofed with some baby pictures of himself.

🍺Which you adore the ones that his near your age.

🍺But you will always love the him who is in front of you the him you met and fell in love with.

🍺Shanks has a pretty good job, he is the owner of one of the biggest four business company in the world.

🍺Yes! That means his quite rich. Your set for life marrying him.

🍺That's where some of his friends teases him, calling him your Sugar Daddy.

🍺You have never really asked him for anything not even a penny. If you want money you make your own.

🍺A gift, you refuse any gift unless it is his love and affection that you'd gladly take.

🍺Shanks drinks alot sometime you question his liver. When his drunk his someone that anyone would like around a happy drunk, his not sad or angry, just ×10 more cheerful and clingy.

🍺PDA *Public display of affection*

🍺He wants bear hugs daily. Once your in his lap he doesn't let you out for a long time same goes for your butterfly kisses he wants them daily.

🍺He'd die without your attention.

🍺Your eyes must always meet his.

🍺PDA kissing 🍻😚~ Shanks doesn't mind cheek kisses or a make out session, he thinks it's brave of you that he won't take you then and there.

🍺At home DA *Display of affection*

🍺He loves when you leave a trail of kisses on his neck down to his lower abdomen, it happens rarely but he just loves being under your touch

🍺The little things you do for him makes him wanna keep you for himself.

***

The End.

Maybe~😏

#one piece #fanfic #male reader #fem reader #one piece fanfic #portgas d ace #portgas d shanks #Shanks #Ace

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