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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

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You Look So Lovely, Darling (I’ll Love You for Lifetimes) - |BaL|

Kinda feels weird to be writing the proposal scene so early, but like? This drabble series is all out of order so whatever lmao :) enjoy some sweet nervous channie who just wants his proposal to be perfect <3

(and again, thanks to @deathbykpopboys for helping me work out this scene!! I LITERALLY owe you the world if you ever have ANY requests I'll be willing to write them :D)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.9k

Chan just wants to give you a picture perfect proposal - why is that so hard?

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

Proposing, Chan comes to learn, is no easy task.

It looks so simple in movies. One of the couple pulls a ring out of their pocket, kneels down in front of their significant other, and pops the question. There might be tears, but it always ends in pure joy.

Movies make it seem like a formula, a simple algorithm that Chan just has to follow in order to get this proposal right. In real life, though, Chan thinks he’s about to lose his mind.

Because movies don’t demonstrate how to act in front of an older brother very protective of his sister. They don’t show him how to talk to his children or hers, how best to ask them if they’re all right with gaining new siblings and a new parent. They don’t give him insight on how to pick the perfect god damn ring, something maybe reminiscent of the promise rings you both wear on chains around your necks, but also not too similar because what if you think he isn’t being creative?

And the worst thing is, they don’t tell him how to pick the perfect moment. They don’t tell him where to go, what ambience is right, whether or not little kids in the room will ruin the timing.

At this point, just thinking about proposing turns Chan into a stammering mess. Even though you’ve discussed marriage before, you haven’t made any large moves beyond that. Jisung and Felix have been calling you Mama for a bit, but Hyunjin has only just started calling him Papa, and mostly on accident (though each time he does, Chan’s heart fills with this overwhelming happiness that brings tears to his eyes). What if you decide now isn’t the right time? What if you decide you want to wait a little longer?

What if you decide Chan isn’t the right person for you?

That’s a question that plagues Chan every time his mind even brushes on the topic of marriage.

He loves you, though, he loves you so much. And he knows you’re the right partner for him, even if in the end you might decide he isn’t the right partner for you.

Patience, he tells himself, taking a deep breath. He really should be working on this new track, but instead, he’s staring into his hands, trying to map out the perfect proposal. Not too fast, Chan. Take it in steps.

The only problem is, step one scares him out of his wits.

. . . . .

Chan is a full year older than Minho, and then some. By all rights, he’s the elder, and he shouldn’t be as terrified of the younger man as he is.

Minho’s a scary person, though. He’s driven, concentrated, focused – it’s how he’s gotten so far as both a dancer and a father. Chan knows he’s hardworking, but Minho is just as much, if not more, than he is.

And he’s very protective of you.

(When Minho found out you two were dating, he told Chan, verbatim, “I won’t hesitate to take you to international waters, chop up your body, and toss the parts overboard if you hurt my sister.” Just thinking about the blank expression Minho had on when he spoke those words is almost enough to make Chan lose his nerve.)

But here he is, standing just outside of Minho’s studio, ready to knock. He’s sweating, not because it’s hot or anything (it’s actually pretty cold because Minho is weird like that), but just out of sheer nervousness. His heart feels like it’s pounding a mile a minute.

Oh, God. Chan raises his hand again to rap on the door. Stop thinking. Just do it.

He knocks.

A few seconds later, the dancer opens the door in all his sweaty glory. “Chan?”

“Yeah.” Chan tries to smile, but he’s pretty sure it just looks like a grimace. “Can I ask you something?”

A glint comes into Minho’s eyes. “Of course, come on in.” He opens the door widely, smiling in a distinctly cat-like fashion that is literally scrambling Chan’s brain.

Why does he look like he knows what Chan’s about to ask?

The door swings shut with a soft but audible click, and with the noise goes Chan’s last chance to run away.

“So?” Minho looks over once Chan’s inside the room. He’s enjoying this way too much.

There’s no way he doesn’t know what I want to ask.

“I… um, so I’ve been dating your sister for a few years,” Chan starts.

Minho actually snorts. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Chan can feel the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Right. Um, I just wanted your approval for – I’m planning to – well, with your permission, of course –”

The smirk on Minho’s face only grows with each stuttering word that comes out of Chan’s mouth. And in all honesty, he actually has no idea what he’s saying. All of the sentences he rehearsed in his head before coming here seem to have completely flown out of his brain, and from Minho’s expression, he just sounds like an idiot.

He keeps going anyway, because nervous Chan doesn’t always make the best decisions to make himself look good.

“Well – um, look, I just really love her a lot.” Chan looks down with the admission, knowing he’s definitely rambled too much already, but he needs to get on with it and ask the stupid question. “I… wantedtoaskifyouwouldbeokaywithmeaskingtomarryher.”

Minho leans forward, eyes innocently wide. “Sorry, I didn’t get that, can you repeat what you said again?”

Lee Minho, you are a grade-A asshole.

Face burning, Chan clears his throat. “I wanted to ask if you would be okay with me asking to marry her. Your sister, I mean.”

Silence. Minho leaves him in silence for five whole seconds which feel more like five millennia. Chan thinks he’s going to crumble into dust on the floor out of terror and embarrassment.

“Do you have a ring?” Minho finally asks.

Chan’s cheeks burn redder. “Not… not yet.”

“So you’ll need help picking one, then?” The dancer raises one perfect eyebrow.

“… Yes?”

“Beautiful. I’ll be there whenever you need me.” Minho smiles. “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

Chan just stands there, dumbfounded. “So… is your answer yes?”

The smile immediately drops off of Minho’s face, replaced by an eye roll and a sigh. “Yes, Bang Chan, you idiot.” He punches Chan’s shoulder. “No one’s ever going to fully deserve Y/N, but you’re the closest I think anyone’s going to get. You really thought I’d say no?”

Rubbing his arm, Chan smiles sheepishly. “You can’t blame me for being nervous.”

“What? Nervous, around me?” Minho laughs, sharp and loud. Even though Chan knows he’s teasing, it’s still a bit frightening. “Never would’ve thought that.”

“You’re just proving my point,” Chan says.

“No, I’m not.” Minho smiles, close-lipped and slit-eyed. It’s terrifying. “Now, off you go. And don’t come back unless you need help picking a ring!”

It takes Chan five minutes of sitting in the hallway, garnering strange looks from several people passing by, before his legs are stable enough to take him back to his own studio. Heart still pounding, he mentally crosses a line through step one.

Next comes step two. Chan purses his lips. Step two is a bit less scary than step one (mostly because it involves children and not Lee Minho), but no less challenging.

Well, he got through Minho. Chan sighs. He just has to hope that the kids will be as receptive to the idea of a new parent as Minho was to a brother-in-law.

. . . . .

The kids know that you and Chan are at least, in some shape or form, together. They might not understand the nuances, like how you’re technically dating but don’t always refer to yourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend (because it just feels so much deeper than that, somehow), but they understand that you two “like” each other (Jisung pretends to vomit every time he hears the word “love,” so Chan just uses the word “like” to avoid that) and thus live together.

They love it, most of the time. Hyunjin was a little put out when he found out he would have to share a room with two other boys, but after Minho moved out and Hyunjin realized he would get his uncle’s old (and slightly bigger) room, he happily accepted the new plan. Jisung and Felix were mostly just happy to live with their best friend.

(Children, Chan just thinks. They’re so easy and so hard to please.)

Of course, there are difficulties. Jisung’s sensitive and has more than once broken down when he thinks Chan isn’t giving him enough attention with a new boy in the household. Felix’s tantrums are rarer, but they exist, and Hyunjin is still getting used to sharing his mom with someone else.

They’re a family, though, a messy, mostly happy family that can pull together at the end of the day and whisper “I love yous” to each other before bedtime. And that’s something Chan values more than anything in the world.

Which is why obtaining his kids’ approval for officially tying the knot is something so important to him.

He gathers them together one day in the apartment with the promise of watching a cartoon show after he asks them something. Three pairs of big eyes stare up at him from the couch, and Chan feels his heart melting with love and racing with anxiety.

Chan takes a breath. “Do you know what marriage is?”

“Yeah!” Jisung pipes up. “It’s when a girl and a boy get together and kiss!”

The laughter spills out of Chan’s mouth before he can even think. “Well, not quite, Jisung,” he chokes out, trying to stifle his remaining giggles. “It’s when two people who love each other very much get together officially. Marriage can be between a woman and a man, a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. Any two people can get married.”

Three small heads bob their heads in understanding.

“I wanted to ask you three if you would be okay with me marrying Y/N.” Chan looks each of the boys in the eye. “Is it?”

Felix nods quickly. “Yes!”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “Are we still going to live together?”

Chan smiles. “Yes, Sungie.”

The other twin nods. “Okay!”

Hyunjin’s mouth pouts slightly. “Will I have to call you Papa?”

A little piece of Chan’s heart breaks, but he tries not to show it. “No, of course not, Hyunjin.” He smiles as brightly as he can. “You can keep calling me Channie or Uncle Channie or whatever you want. You don’t have to call me Papa if you don’t want to.”

Hyunjin’s round, dark eyes gaze into his with a solemnity Chan honestly didn’t know toddlers could have. “Do you want me to call you Papa?”

Oh, fuck.

What the hell does Chan say to that?

With a sigh, he decides to be honest. “I would love it if you did, Hyunjin, but like I said, you don’t have to. I’ll never force you to do something you really don’t want to.”

There are a few seconds of silence, then Hyunjin nods. “Okay. You can marry my Mama.”

A weight lifts itself off of Chan’s chest and he smiles, freer this time. “Thank you, kids. One more thing – don’t tell Y/N about this!” He looks into each of their eyes, trying to convey how serious he is but in a fun way. “It’s a secret, okay?”

“Like a spy mission?” Jisung bounces in excitement.

The smile on his face widens. “Yes, Sungie. Like a spy mission.” He looks at the other two boys. “Do you promise? Pinky promise?” He holds out his pinkie.

The three resulting shouts of “YES!” make Chan hope their neighbors won’t come knocking. But even if they did, Chan thinks, he wouldn’t care.

He’d go to the ends of the earth to defend these three kids, after all.

. . . . .

Step three goes by in a flash. Out of sheer anxiety, Chan actually takes a full day off from work and calls Minho for help in finding the perfect ring.

Miraculously, he finds something within his budget range – a silver band with a small diamond set in the center. It’s simple but elegant, and the diamond glints beautifully in the sunlight. Really, the ring matches the way Chan often finds himself summing up your existence.

So only the last step remains: the actual proposal.

Looking back, Chan has no idea why he thought each of the other steps was so stressful. This is pure stress, he thinks, waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. Should he plan something extravagant? Or should he just go with the flow? When is the perfect time, anyway? What constitutes “perfect” in your mind? In his?

Minho just tells him to wait for the moment he thinks is “right.” But what the hell does “right” even mean?

“You’ll figure it out.” The dancer gives Chan a bright grin, patting his shoulder. “And if you don’t, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

Chan just puts his face in his hands and screams.

. . . . .

When Chan proposes, the sky is dark. The kids are already tucked in bed, and you’re sitting on the couch, leaning into his shoulder as you mindlessly scroll through your phone.

Absently strumming his guitar, Chan smiles down at your face, illuminated by your phone’s glow. As if sensing him staring, you look up as well. “Sing me something?” you murmur.

“Of course, love.” He leans down to kiss the top of your head. “What song?”

“Anything you choose,” you reply. “Anything.”

Chan thinks for a moment, then starts strumming the instrument.

Softly, with mood, tightly hug her

Use it once a day, every day…

When your eyes meet hers, smile.

The characteristic chords of one of your favorite songs make you relax even further into Chan’s body, a smile blooming across your face. He badly wants to stop playing and just kiss you good and full, but he keeps his fingers strumming the guitar.

Let her breathe under a different sky, a different wind,

Sometimes, kiss her without a plan…

Chan almost stops playing.

Without a plan.

He doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have any proper plan on how he’s going to pull the little box out of his pocket and ask the question. But now…

Maybe he’s got an idea.

The final chords die away, and Chan finally gets his long-awaited kiss when you sit up lethargically, pressing your lips to his softly. “Are you awake enough for one more?” he whispers when you pull away.

“Mm, one more.” You nod happily, snuggling back into his side. “Then sleep.”

Chan takes a breath. One chance, Chan. This is your chance.

His fingers start strumming a song very familiar by now to him and the boys. From the way your eyes light up, you recognize it too.

It doesn’t have words. It’s just a collection of guitar chords, hastily arranged in a sweet, rough melody. In the track version, it would have piano, but because Chan only has two hands, he has to make do with just the strings of the guitar.

It’s the first song he ever wrote for his twins, the song he created that day so many years ago when they weren’t even born, when they were still kicking in their mother’s stomach. They think of it as their family song, the song he plays when the twins are sad, when they can’t get to sleep, or when they just want to hear something nice.

The last strains of the song fade away and Chan looks at you to see a tear glittering on your cheek. “You play that when the boys are sad,” is all you say. “It’s your family song.”

Chan smiles softly. “But you’re part of the family too.”

When he pulls out the box, your eyes widen. “Chan –”

“Shh.” He presses a finger gently to your lips. “Y/N, the past few years you’ve been with me have been some of the best of my life, and I can’t ever thank you enough for staying with me all this time.” There’s a tear welling up in Chan’s eye, but he blinks it away. “I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would marry me.”

There’s a moment of silence that nearly gives Chan a heart attack. What if you say no?

“You – you stupid romantic sap.” The tears are really sliding down your cheeks now, but your mouth is smiling wide. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Chan. I’ll marry you.”

Chan can’t speak as he slides the ring onto your finger with trembling hands. Throat choked, he can only pull you close, burying his face in your shoulder as your tears soak his shirt. “I love you so much,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough for to see your eyes sparkling with love, so much love. Your touch intoxicates him, with your fingers pressing gently against his skin as you press your lips to his in a sweet, sweet kiss.

Yes, he thinks. You’re the right partner for him.

The perfect partner for him.

Teary-eyed, he smiles. “I love you too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 congratulations for the newly engaged couple!!!)

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puckinghell · 5 years ago

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Almost | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Every time Nate doesn’t tell you he loves you, he almost does. Until the clock suddenly starts ticking, and almost might not be enough. Words: 5.3k Note: I wrote this all at once and I couldn’t be bothered to read it after to make sure it made sense so excuse me if it doesn’t. We’re in the midst of a global crisis, I couldn’t buy potatoes in the supermarket cause it’s empty, and I don’t have my emotional support dumbass hockey boys, so you can imagine the emotional distress I’m under.

---

Nate isn’t very good at flirting.

He knows that, and he’s known that for a long time. Not only because he’s got pretty good self-insight, but also because his teammates have been telling him for years.

In fact, the first time he went out with Tyson, back when he just came onto the Avs and going out was a big deal to him, Tys shook his head and said: “If you don’t learn how to flirt you’re gonna end up dying alone. With a Cup and enough gold to drown in, but alone.”

Nate loves Tys to death, but he still thinks about that night sometimes and wants to kick Tys in the shin.

Because as much as he’s bad at flirting, he never really thought it was a problem. Surely one day a girl would come into his life and she’d like him so much she would do the heavy lifting, and he could just kinda cruise along. Or maybe one day, when the right girl would come into his life, it would all be easy, suddenly.

Except.

He’s pretty sure that you are the right girl. He has been sure about that for the past two years, ever since you became friends. And yet, you’re still friends. Just friends.

Nate thinks he kinda accidentally put himself in the friend zone. At first he thought it was fine if you were just friends, because it would grow into something more naturally.

But one day Gabe turned to him solemnly and said: “Once she’s put you in the ‘Don’t go there’ part of her brain, you’re not coming out of there, bro.”

He’d waved Gabe off, but now he’s starting to think Gabe was right.

Because in the beginning, sometimes, you’d look at him a certain way, or you’d say something, and Nate was certain you meant it in a flirty way. Was sure he saw his own feelings reflected in your eyes. But those times became less and less frequent and now, he can’t remember the last time you looked at him like that. He only knows that you talk to him about dates you go on, like it doesn’t break his heart to think about you with someone else. And you wrap your arms around him so easy and comfortably, like the butterflies in his stomach when you touch him have no right o be there. And you ask to sleep in his bed with him after late movie nights like the thought of it ever being anything more than sleeping has never entered your mind. Nate thinks maybe he’s missed his window, but he also can’t imagine not ending up with you. So he starts his quest of getting you to notice him in a different way.

It’s shortly after he made that decision that he’s finding himself in Gabe’s backyard, a bottle of beer in his hand as he stands next to EJ who is grilling steaks on the barbecue. Gabe’s summer barbecue is somewhat of a staple, for the Avs, and if he thought that having a baby would mean Gabe’s parties would come to an end, Nate was wrong. Gabe flutters through the backyard with Linnea on his arm like he’s never done anything else. He switches his own beer bottle with Linnea’s bottle of milk – or whatever she’s drinking – between people he chats to, and before too long he shows up next to Nate and EJ. “Looking good,” Gabe whistles, looking at the grill. “Nate, are you staring at Y/N again?” Nate swirls around to face his captain; he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you, but perhaps he was, because he knows you’ve been talking to Josty for the past 15 minutes and he’s not entirely happy about the way Josty leaned into you while he laughed at something you said. “It’s too late, bud,” EJ says, his signature toothless grin appearing. “You’ve waited too long and now she’s going to think you mean everything in a friendly way.” “That’s not true!” Nate starts protesting, even though he knows EJ is just trying to rile him up; but he can’t really make his point because you choose that moment to come over to them. “Are you still not done?” you tease EJ, playfully bumping against his shoulder. “I’m hungry, EJ, can you not grill a little faster?” “Grilling is like art,” EJ grumbles, “you can’t rush it.” “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” you answer, your voice filled with fondness. “Ah, there’s Linnea! Can I hold her?” You make grabby hands at the baby and Gabe easily passes her to you, which, honestly, rude. “You never let me hold her!” Nate sputters, and Gabe shrugs. “That’s because Y/N is responsible and you killed the only succulent you had in your house.” “A succulent is not the same as a baby. I could take care of her.” Nate feels extremely offended, even more so when you giggle. “No offense, but if I had to pick someone to take care of Linnea, it would be Y/N, then Colin, then literally anyone else, before it would be you,” says Gabe. “Even Josty?” Nate whines, and at that moment, Mel steps in next to Gabe, putting her hand on his back. “Are we letting Tyson take care of Linnea?” she asks. “Absolutely no way,” Gabe is quick to answer, and you suppose it’s a good thing Josty isn’t here to hear that. “I was just saying I would let Y/N take care of our little girl.” “Oh, would you?” Mel excitedly grasps your shoulder. “Gabe and I haven’t had a date night in like, months! “Sure, I’d love to,” you answer truthfully. You slide your finger into Linnea’s hand, the baby making excited gurgling noises as she clasps down on it. She’s stronger than she looks. “Can I come?” Nate says suddenly. His cheeks are a little tinted, even though it’s not that warm outside anymore. “It could be like, a babysitting date.” “Oh, of course!” you answer. “That’s a perfect idea, Nate! Mel, we should set up a play date for Linnea with my sister’s baby!” You ignore EJ’s cackling laugh and what sounds like a low groan coming from Nate, instead follow Mel to the porch with Linnea in your hands to plan the play date. EJ slings his arm around Nate, grinning a little wickedly as he says: “So close, Nathan. Almost got her.”

Nate elbows him in the stomach loud enough to earn a disapproving tut from Gabe.

Nate tells Sid about his plan during their monthly FaceTime session. “Good luck with that, dude,” Sid says, and it doesn’t even sound that condescending, coming from him. “What do you think I should do?” Nate knows asking Sid for advice on flirting is like asking a blind man for advice on how to see, but he’s getting desperate and he really, really doesn’t want to have to ask Tys. He’d never live that one down. “Uh,” Sid answers, and that’s about as much as Nate was expecting from him, anyway. “Maybe ask her out to dinner, or something?” Actually, that’s more than Nate was expecting from Sid, because that’s actually not the worst idea. Sure, you’ve gone out to dinner together many times, but it was always very clearly not a date setting; either the other guys were there, or it was at a MacDonalds – Nate doesn’t like to go to junkfood places, but he supposes if Tys was gonna leave any imprint on him, it would be his love for McFlurry’s – or it was just dinner at his apartment, wearing sweatpants and ordering Chinese while watching some dumb Netflix show. His chance to ask you comes quicker than he thought, because he’s still talking to Sid – about hockey, this time, something Sid does actually have great advice on – when you come barreling into his apartment. Your hair is wet from the rain and you shrug off your rain coat with a wave in his direction. “It’s pouring,” you tell him, “and I walked to work, so.” To anyone else, it would be a bad explanation, but it’s not the first time you’ve showed up at Nate’s apartment like this. You like to walk to work when it’s not too cold but sometimes the weather surprises you and you don’t want to walk back in the rain or the wind. Nate’s apartment is a lot closer to your work than your apartment, so it’s become a habit of yours to go to Nate’s on days like that and just hang out in his apartment until you either fall asleep there or Nate offers to drive you home. “Is that Y/N?” Sid asks. “Hey, Y/N!” “Hi Sid!” you call back. “Nate, I’m gonna shower.” “Ask her,” Sid says, which is very pushy for Sid, who usually never tells Nate to do anything, instead just says “If I were you, I would consider” and let Nate figure out the underlying message. “Ask me what?” you ask Nate curiously, eyeing him up and down. He’s glaring at Sid as if Sid said something wrong, and when he looks at you, he doesn’t quite catch your eye. “I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me?” Nate asks. It’s a bit of a formal question for something you do at least once a week, but you shrug it off; Nate is a bit weird, sometimes, and you’re used to that. “Sure,” you say. “Let’s order Thai. Get my usual while I’m showering? I’m hungry.” Then you yell: “Bye Sid!” before making your way to the bathroom. Nate lets out a frustrated sigh and Sid sounds sympathetic when he says: “Almost there, dude. Just, next time, if I were you, I’d consider…” Nate is already not listening anymore.

Today is the day, Nate has decided. He bought roses, which EJ told him is lame and Gabe told him is great idea, and he cooked pasta, for which he used Sammy’s recipe. He’s not a good cook, but Sammy promised it’s impossible to mess up, and he thinks he did alright. He texted you this morning to ask you to come to his place for dinner. You replied with a sure :) and Nate takes that to be a good sign. He has a plan. When you walk in, he’ll take your coat, instantly changing the routine between you, because he normally stays on the couch when you open the door with your key. He won’t be wearing sweatpants, either, not even if he expects you might be; he’s wearing black jeans and a nice button up, and he’s even done his hair. Well, made an attempt to; it didn’t really work out and now it looks kinda the same as always, but hey, he’s really trying, here. Next, he’ll lead you to the table, which he’ll actually have set up, and at that point, surely you understand something different is happening, because a set up table is so different from his normal paper plates and Netflix. Then he’ll give you the roses and confess his feelings. He’s not really thought that part through too much, because every time he thinks about it he almost throws up. So. He’ll have to wing that. The problem, Nate finds out, with planning everything to perfection, is that when one thing goes wrong, the entire plan has to go out the window. Because half an hour after you were supposed to arrive, he gets a text saying sorry I’m late! Be there in 10 and he knows he’s gonna have to reheat the pasta, which Sammy said was not the point of pasta. But he’s not gonna kick off and cause a scene when you arrive, because he reasons it doesn’t really matter, in the grand scale of things. So he sits on the couch and waits. Finally, the door swings open and Nate jumps to his feet, ready to take your coat from you. Except, you’re not wearing a coat; you’re wearing his old hoodie and for some reason his breath hitches in his throat and suddenly he feels like his feet are nailed to the floor, unable to move. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” you call, basically running further into the apartment. “I came from the gym and let me tell you, I have got great news!” “News?” Nate echoes. You stop right in front of him, your eyes shining and a bright smile on your face. Suddenly, you lift an eyebrow, eyes catching on something. “Nathan MacKinnon, did you do something to your hair?” Before Nate can answer, you shrug and continue. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Guess what happened at the gym!” “What?” Nate seems to only be able to repeat what you say, so he decides to stick with that. “I got asked on a date!” Nate thinks if he had one wish, he would wish for the floor to open up beneath his feet and for him to sink through the building, all 7 floors below his apartment, and then down into the ground, until he could bury himself in the dirt. “A date?” You’re so hyped you don’t even notice your best friend is simply repeating your words, barely reacting in any other way. “He’s so hot, this guy, Nate! He comes to the gym every Thursday, just like I do, and we never talk but sometimes I catch him looking, and like, I look back, you know? And today he came over and he asked if I wanted to get a drink, but obviously I had plans with you and I would never blow you off, so I said we could do it tomorrow. I have a date tomorrow, Nate!” In your excitement, you reach forward and wrap your arms around Nate, pressing your face into his chest. His heart is beating fast, and you notice that he kinda just remains frozen into place, so you look up at him with a frown. “Nate? You okay?” That seems to shake Nate from his trance, as he literally shakes himself out of it and slowly puts his arms around you. With a happy sigh, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace. “What are we eating, anyway? I’m hungry.” Nate praises any and every God there could possibly be that he decided to leave the door to the dining room closed. “Whatever you want, we can order,” he answers. “I’m just gonna, uh, get changed.” “I thought you looked fancy,” you grin, letting go of him and dropping onto the couch. “What about Italian?” Hours later, Nate throws away the empty pizza boxes and puts the roses in the bin with them, and then he goes to his bedroom to scream into a pillow. He wants to call you, wants to ask you to not go on a date with that guy. But then he thinks about how excited you looked and he doesn’t call. He doesn’t call, but he almost does, and he thinks that’s a pretty good way to describe how his life is going.

Nate has truly hit rock bottom, which is why he’s scrolling through his phone until he finds the familiar name. “Dogggg!” Tys yells into the phone, because he can never answer the phone like a normal person. “I’m baking chocolate chip cookies!” And Nate is suddenly a little overwhelmed with how much he misses his best friend. “Baking?” he teases. “What kinda mental breakdown are you going through this time?” “Hey, fuck you,” Tys says, but he sounds mellow and not bothered at all. “What’s up?” And Nate has been planning to ease into this conversation, have a little small talk, maybe talk about Toronto and how the coaching change has been working out for Tys, but Tys is his best friend – apart from you – and suddenly he can’t keep it to himself anymore. “I’m in love with Y/N,” he blurts out, and he hears a clank on the other side of the line that sounds suspiciously like Tyson dropping a spoon. “Well, yeah,” Tys comes back, a little too calmly for Nate’s liking. “But I meant like, what’s up with you that’s new, Dogg.” “I need to do something about it,” Nate says, and that seems to get Tyson’s attention, cause he suddenly sounds a lot more interested when he says: “Oh?” “Cause like,” Nate starts, and he knows he’s about to start rambling. “Cause I’m so into her, you know, and I have been for so long, but I don’t think she sees me that way? And maybe if I would’ve done something sooner, she would’ve thought of me as an option, and she wouldn’t be going out with that guy right now..” “Wow hold up,” Tyson interrupts. “Wait, she’s got a boyfriend?” “No!” The force with which that word erupts from Nate’s mouth is maybe a little too telling, cause Tyson immediately goes into ‘calm down Nate’ mode. “Hey, hey, it’s just a date or two, right?” he soothes. “It’s totally not serious yet. And you and her, you’ve got history, dude. She loves you! There’s still time!” “What if she doesn’t love me in that way, though?” Nate asks, and he hates how tiny his voice sounds. “Then she’s got no taste, Nate,” Tyson says, awfully genuine. “You’d be an awesome boyfriend. Hell, you’ve basically been her boyfriend, you two act like a couple all the time.” Nate hadn’t thought of it like that. “Cause like, you’re always hanging out together, right?” Tys continues. “And you bring her to all your events as your plus one. She cooks you dinner at least once a week. You pick her up and drop her off when it’s raining and she doesn’t wanna walk. You always get her a Christmas present. She even bakes your favorite cookies when you’ve had a tough game.” He sounds slightly jealous when he says: “Cookies, bro! That’s true love.” And, well, Nate had always thought that was just a friend thing, but when he thinks about it, he doesn’t really treat any of his other friends that way. Has never picked up his phone at 4 am because Sid was calling, never ran a bath for Tys after a long day. Maybe, in a way, he has been acting like your boyfriend. Except. “We don’t kiss and stuff, though.” Tyson laughs. “And stuff. I bet you want the stuff, huh, bro?” “Shut up,” Nate grumbles, but he’s too thankful for Tyson’s input to put much heat behind it. “Brutes, what do I do?” “You need to complete the package, Dogg,” Tys says, sounding confident. “You’re almost her boyfriend. Now go get that kiss and be it for real.”

Nate is not usually a big drinker, but this, he needs to be super, super drunk for. “Careful,” Burky says, as he watches Nate slam back another shot. “That’s a lot of alcohol, Nate.” “You gonna call Gabe on me?” Nate says, defiant, and Burky shrugs. “No, but if you need to be carried home, I’ll get Z to do it.” That’s enough for Nate to not order another shot right away. “He’s upset because Y/N is here with a guy.” It’s Comphy who speaks, in a dull tone like he’s talking about the weather. Josty, who is with them too, sits up a little straighter. “She came with a guy?” “Shut up,” Nate all but growls. “I didn’t know when I invited her the invitation would be extended.” He really hadn’t; he’d asked you to come out with the boys after the game because he found out you were bringing the guy – Nate purposely forgets his name every time – and he figured he was running out of time. At least if he kept you out all night you couldn’t go home with the guy, and he might find the courage to tell you how he feels. Except then you’d shown up with the guy in tow, and now he’s wondering if it’s possible to drown himself in tequila. He must’ve looked properly miserable for the guys to crowd around him like they are; Gabe went home because he’s a dad now, but Comph and Josty and Burky are all sitting with him, refusing to have fun now that their assistant captain looks ready to commit a crime, and Z and EJ both keep shooting worried glances his way. Nate really doesn’t care. What he cares about is that you’re with with a guy that’s not him, and you’ve barely paid attention to him. He’s just about drunk enough that that annoyance is starting to become unbearable, and just drunk enough that it seems like a good idea to do something about it. “Nate, no…” Burky starts, when Nate stands up, and Comphy reaches for him, but even drunk Nate is quicker than them and he starts pushing his way through the crowd, to where you’re standing with the guy and laughing at something he’s saying. You feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, the grip almost too tight as you’re pushed flat against a muscular chest. For a second, you freeze, ready to fight, but then you smell familiar cologne and you recognize the arms that are wrapped around you in iron grip. “Nate?” you say. “Everything okay?” Nate hums in your ear but it’s not really words; just a low hum that makes something tingle in the pit of your stomach. If only Tom knew the effect Nate has on you, he probably wouldn’t be here. As it is, Tom’s eyes are wide as he stares at Nate. You did tell him you knew people on the team and that’s why you could get tickets to the Avs game so last minute, but you’d forgone the mention that your “contact” is Nathan MacKinnon; for some reason, you didn’t really want those worlds to mix just yet. Maybe that’s why you’d been keeping your distance from Nate, tonight. Normally, Nate isn’t the kinda guy to come chasing you down, but you can smell the alcohol on his breathe and his words slur a little when he says: “Where have you been?” Your heart starts beating a little faster. “Here,” you say, trying to ignore the dark tone to Nate’s voice. To say you’re confused in an understatement: Nate sounds almost angry, but he’s clinging to you like he’s not ever letting you go, so surely he can’t be angry at you. You wish Tom wasn’t here. If you’d been alone, you would’ve dragged Nate outside and talked to your best friend, figured out what’s bothering him, because it’s clear there’s something and you don’t like knowing that he’s carrying it alone. Nate has a tendency to carry the entire world on his shoulders, on his own, even when there’s so many people who would share the burden with him. “Dude,” Tom says, “you’re Nathan MacKinnon!” You feel Nate tense behind you. You know he doesn’t like to be recognized in public spaces but honestly, Tom didn’t speak loudly, and he’s not making a scene, so you wiggle out of Nate’s hold and put your hand on his arm.

Usually, that calms him down. “Yeah, Tom, this is my friend Nate. Nate, this is Tom.” Nate’s face is schooled into perfect indifference as he shakes the hand Tom holds out to him; the only thing betraying that he’s annoyed is the fact that his other, free, hand is balled into a fist and his knuckles are white. “Good to meet you, man,” Tom says. “That was such a nice goal there in the 2nd, holy shit dude! I’m like, such a big fan of you!” You cringe a little as Nate narrows his eyes. “Thanks,” he says, and he could not sound more bored if he tried. Even Tom shifts on his feet and nervously looks towards the floor. Then Nate’s hand finds its way to your lower back, his thumb dipping under your shirt. You feel like all the blood is rushing through your cheeks, and when Tom frowns, you feel like you could pass out. “Nice to meet you,” Nate says, in a tone that makes it clear he’d rather undergo a colonoscopy than ever speak to Tom again. “But can I borrow my girl for a second?” My girl? “Nate, what the…” you sputter, but you’re already being pushed through the crowd towards the exit, and before you know it you’re standing in a dark alley with your back to the brick wall of the club. Nate is standing close, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek when he exhales. His eyes are big and a bit wild, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat as clearly as you can. “Nate…” You mean to ask him what’s going on, but for some reason his name comes out of your mouth in a quiet rush of air, and it seems to do something to Nate, who inhales sharply and drops his head a little, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I hate it,” he mutters, the words soft enough that you can only make them out because it’s just the two of you in the silent outside air. “Hate what?” “Seeing you with him.” Those words hit you like a freight train, and all you manage to bring out is a soft “uhm”. “I can’t watch you with him,” Nate whispers. His hands are against the wall but his chest is pressed up against yours, and slowly but surely, he’s leaning in. And that’s when you realize, oh. Nate is going to kiss you. To your own surprise, that doesn’t shock you. It’s not some big thing that throws the world of its axis, that shakes the ground beneath your feet. It’s just a realization and then a soft, warm feeling of comfort spreading through your body. You want him to kiss you so badly, but it’s not like something is exploding, knowing that he wants it too. Instead, it’s like something finally falls into place.

“Y/N?” a voice goes, and you almost whine out loud. Nate jumps back like he’s been stung. He stares at you with wide eyes, the color drained from his face, and then he turns around and all but runs away. Tom watches him leave, then faces you, and in that moment you know four things absolutely certain. Nate was jealous. You’re never going to go on another date with Tom. Nate almost kissed you. And almost wasn’t enough.

Nate wakes up with a banging headache, the taste of dirt in his mouth and 20 missed text messages. Most of the messages are from Tyson, and there’s one from EJ, who is apparently the one that told Tyson about last night in the first place, because his text simply reads: Had to tell Brutes. You need help. Which is probably fair enough. There’s a text from Josty offering support, one from Burky asking if he got home safe, one from Gabe that Nate doesn’t read because he doesn’t want to see Gabe’s disappointed face every time he closes his eyes for the next few days, and then there’s a text from you. We have to talk. Well, fuck. Nate doesn’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but he knows that’s never a good sign. Nate knows that you know him well enough to have figured out that he was drunk last night, so you probably don’t expect him to be up yet. He takes advantage of that time by taking a shower and brushing his teeth at least four times until he can no longer taste the tequila in the back of his throat, making a cup of coffee and having a freak out at his kitchen counter because surely you’re going to tell him to never talk to you again. Not only did he not have the balls to tell you how he feels about you, he also acted like an asshole to a guy you apparently like – although Nate has no clue why, because he seemed boring as hell – and then he nearly kissed you but instead ran away. Not a great track record. It’s nearly noon when he finally gathers up the courage to call you. After all, you’ve given him two years of friendship, so that’s the least he can do. “Hey,” he says softly into the phone when the connection clicks through. “It’s Nate.” “I know,” you answer, and he’s surprised by how light your tone is. “I have caller ID, Nate. Have had it for years.” It throws him off, how normal you sound. There’s nothing in your voice to betray that you’re mad at him, or that you hate him. He almost forgets what he was going to say. Almost, but not quite. “I’m really sorry about last night,” he blurts out. “Do you mind if I come over so we can talk about it?” “Uhm,” you hesitate, and Nate’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. “Actually, I’m almost at your apartment.” “Oh.” Nate had not expected that. “Uhm, okay. I’ll be here, then.” You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you would be. See you in a bit, Nate.” It takes you another 6 minutes to arrive; Nate knows it’s exactly 6 because he stares at the hands of the clock while he waits, while simultaneously thinking of all the possible scenarios in which you could break his heart. When you walk into the kitchen, he feels like he’s about to throw up. “You don’t look great,” is the first thing you say to him. “Have you had breakfast? You know hangovers get worse when you don’t eat.” And that’s... Not quite what Nate was expecting. “Yoohoo, Nate?” You wave your hand in front of his pale face, as Nate stares at you and doesn’t speak. “Are you okay?” “You hate me,” Nate blurts out then, and instantly his eyes fix on the floor in shame. “Or, you should.” You frown. “Why? Because you were a jealous dick last night?” Nate’s face turns from white to a bright shade of pink. You smile, walk to Nate who’s sitting on a barstool at the counter, and carefully push open his knees, so you can slide in between his legs. If Nate’s eyes go any wider, you worry they might fall out. “Last night,” you repeat, “you were jealous. Of Tom.” It’s not a question, but Nate still nods, avoiding your eyes as he does. “And then you were going to kiss me.” Not a question either, and this time Nate doesn’t respond. “Nate,” you say softly, and the warmth in your tone must be what finally gets Nate to look up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you still want to kiss me?” “I do,” Nate says. His voice is a little shaky but he needs to get this out, because he needs you to know this. “I always want to kiss you.” “Why haven’t you?” you ask. The answer is not really an answer, but it means everything anyway. “I almost did,” Nate says. “So many times, Y/N. So many times I almost did.” “Almost, almost,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, and then you slide your hands behind Nate’s neck and kiss him. He almost stumbles, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid he’ll fall right onto the floor if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. But he’s kissing you back right away, his mouth soft yet forceful at the same time. Like he’s never going to stop kissing you. You don’t think you ever want him to.

It’s late at night and the streets of Denver are quiet beneath Nate’s apartment. He’s laying on his back and you’re draped across his chest, naked bodies tangled together under the sheets. He’s not sure if you’re asleep; your breathing is shallow and even, but every now and then your fingers tighten around where they’re wrapped around his arm, and he wonders if you’re dreaming, or simply checking if he’s still there. As if he would ever leave. Nate can’t help himself; he lightly presses his lips against your hair, the ghost of a kiss against your skin. You hum softly. “Nate?” “Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s me.” A lazy giggle escapes your lips. “Thank God it’s not someone else.” The silence returns, but this time it’s heavy with something Nate knows you’re not saying. “What are you thinking about?” he mumbles, tracing circles on the naked skin of your back. Your answer shakes something inside of him. “That I almost didn’t get to have this.” He thinks of all the times he almost said something to you but didn’t, and curses himself for all the time lost. “Almost didn’t, but we did, and that’s what matters, right?” he speaks into the darkness.

You smile.

You know you’re not dreaming, but you almost can’t believe you aren’t.

Almost.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagines

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shishinoya · 4 years ago

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☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ — REQUEST || “Hi hi! So uh today I just barely learned how to swim (at this age it's very embarrassing 😭🤣) but I'm pretty hyped about it now lol. I was hoping you could make some headcannons for like Tendou, Lev, and Kuroo finding out that their S/O cant swim and they help them out? Idk I'm just really excited that I can now and this just seems like something fun. Ty 💖” — anon — PAIRING || Tendou Satori X Reader, Lev Haiba X Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou X Reader — TYPE || Headcanons — WARNING || A little NSFW but no like touchy touchy or smexc smexc — WORD COUNT || NA — AUTHOR’S NOTE || AUSCBANSKC i am so bad at completing requests and i’m so so so sorry about that sciasjn i’ll try to get more out!! anD CONGRATS ON LEARNING HOW TO SWIM!!!! SAUFCBALS i hope this can make you smile :)) ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

》 I feel like Tendou would be a little shit about it. Like even more than Kuroo.

》 Might make fun of you a bit. “You can’t swim? What a shame. Guess you have to drown now :clown:”

》 Laughs.

》 What a meanie :(

》 Nonetheless, if you ask him to help you, he wont turn down the offer, would be quite happy about it too. Will tease you though.

》 He makes learning about swimming fun and will occasionally splash you with a wave of water.

》 Who said you can’t have fun while learning?

》 He’s actually quite patient with you. Even if it takes a few hours and your and his fingers are pruning up, he will gladly stay in the water all day for you.

》 It just means more time for him to see you in a bathing suit, if ya catch my drift ;)

》 He would love to just fool around in the kiddie pool to be honest.

》 He likes the pool toys.

》 The duck? Oh fuck yeah. Would so steal it from a child and just hop around because it’s too shallow for him to swim.

》 This happens in the beginning of the “lesson” because he wants to liven the mood and kinda wants to hear and see you smile.

》 Would tell you to keep your arms against the edge of the pool and he’ll hold your legs to help you kick.

》 He holds your hands while you are practicing kicking and if you start to sink will jump to catch you in his arms.

》 He was joking about drowning.

》 He’ll tease you by pulling you towards the deeper end of the pool but he would be gripping on to you harder than you to him.

》 Will probably float on one of those foam floaties and ask you to drag him along on it. Or even! The other way aroundddd!

》 Him just swimming like a fish and pulling you along with him.

》 If you get scared that you’re drowning, he’ll always be there to hold you against his chest.

》 You ain’t dying, not on his watch.

》 Aha Kuroo...

》 He will make fun the shit out of you. Such a tease too.

》 First, he already has his eyes on you when you show up in that bathing suit. Like God damn! You hot.

》 But when you tell him you can’t swim, he will take this as an opportunity to show off his manly skills. “Manly”.

》 Has his hands on your waist, sometimes drifting too close to other parts.

》 Helps you with your backstroke just so he can look at your struggling face. And maybe make fun of it, buT tHE DETAILS DON’T MATTER.

》 Maybe even give you small pecks and kisses.

》 Likes to feel you up and tickle you too on your back. He just likes to make the whole experience much harder for you.

》 But he is quite helpful.

》 Although he teases and makes fun, you notice that he never once lets go of you.

》 He was always either holding your hand, arms, or waist.

》 He also gives you insightful advice and helps you nail down any type of swimming move, no matter how long it takes.

》 Has no trouble going over different positions or techniques. Anything for you babeyyy.

》 Will definitely go under water and boost you up on his shoulders.

》 Water polo? :eyes:

》 He will not back down from a challenge from a different couple. If yall playing water volleyball, better be prepared cuz mans ready.

》 He will compliment you on how well you’re doing. Maybe also adding in a comment or two about how hot you looked doing it.

》 If flailing like a fish is hot to him, then whatever floats his boat.

》 Swimming he says. HA!

》 You thought you couldn’t swim? Well, neither can Lev.

》 He’s a long ass kid that has a hard time slicing through the water.

》 You two will drown together :clown:.

》 Honestly, why did he even think it was a good idea to take you to the pool. There’s no one to watch either of you.

》 Will legit buy those life vests because he needs it. Offers you one, but you don’t want to look like a balloon so...

》 Hold on to him and he will wade his way through the crowd.

》 Choo choo! Here comes to can’t-swim train!

》 You two try to learn together, but it fails. Miserably.

》 Hold on to each other for dear life.

》 Lev’s tall. He can stand for most of the pool so you still have that life line.

》 But you two see that there are little kids learning how to swim and although it’s kinda sad using the kids as your lesson, you still copy whatever they are being taught.

》 Kinda works kinda doesn’t. Lev picks up on it pretty quickly and offers to help you.

》 You two take turns holding each other while learning how to properly move your arms.

》 He do be heavy though, and you struggle trying to hold him up.

》 To be honest, you guys give up after a while and resort to playing with the water instead of trying to understand it.

》 Takes the rings and does some weird shit like “lemme catch it on my nose” or something.

》 He’s strange, don’t question it.

》 Will chase you in the pool. Don’t test him. He will do it.

》 Also isn’t afraid to go down those water slides. He doesn’t care if he’s too tall and people stare. He wants to go down it and nothing is going to stop him.

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nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years ago

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Mio Amore - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Rossi x reader

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1245

The reader is a server at Rossi’s favorite restaurant, as well as a culinary student, who flirts with Rossi and develops a relationship with him.

A/N: I don’t speak Italian so please bear with me, I used Google Translate. This was another amazing idea from the wonderful @im-a-slut-for-alucards-belt!

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, double-checking to make sure you don’t have even a hair out of place. Tonight is a big night. You were meeting Dave’s team for the first time. And you wanted to make a good impression.

You were wearing one of your favorite dresses, which just so happened to be one of Dave’s as well. As you smooth out the wrinkles, you have to admit that it fits you quite well, which probably had to do with the few extra pounds you had put on after moving in with Rossi. As much as you enjoyed cooking, you liked eating Dave’s cooking that much more.

Voices from downstairs pull you from your self-examination. You take a deep breath, calming the nerves running wild in your body, before moving towards the staircase. As you make your way to the bottom, you can hear laughing and the clinking of what you can only assume is wine glasses. Upon reaching the threshold of the kitchen, you see the team, who you have only seen in photographs, mingling around the kitchen island, listening to Hotchner, you believe, tell the story of Jack’s latest soccer game.

A squeal fills the kitchen, jerking you to attention. A vibrant blonde, wearing just about every color imaginable, comes rushing towards you. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Rossi, how could you have kept her hidden for so long! She’s perfect!” She exclaims loudly, pulling you into a tight hug. She steps back, introducing herself, “I’m Penelope Garcia, beloved tech analyst of the BAU. Most call me Garcia, but you can call me Penelope or Pen or…” A tall, well-muscled man throws an arm over Penelope’s shoulders, effectively cutting her off.

“Baby girl, let the woman breathe.” His deep voice was gentle. He turns his attention from Penelope to you, extending his free hand and flashing a flirtatious smile. “I’m Derek Morgan, but you can call me Derek.” You shake his hand and timidly introduce yourself, aware that everyone’s attention was now on you. The rest of the team introduces themselves, accompanied with handshakes and a few more hugs from Penelope and JJ.

Dave moves to your side, pulling you close and handing you a glass of wine. “Here, il mio amore (my love).” He whispers in your ear, making you blush.

“You guys are adorable.” JJ gushes from the other end of the kitchen. Pulling away slightly from Dave, you take a long sip from your wine.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today’s lesson is being taught by the lovely Miss Y/L/N, our resident culinary school graduate.” He places an apron over your head before stepping close and tying it around your waist. He presses a soft kiss to your neck before stepping back.

“If everyone is okay with it?” You question nervously, a little worried about being thrust into this tight-knit group. You didn’t want to seem as though you were forcing yourself in.

“Well, it all depends. Are you a good cook?” Aaron asks, completely deadpan, and it takes you a moment to realize he is making a joke. You smile shyly, while everyone voices their agreement so you begin teaching the team how to make Pasta alla Norma, one of the more simple dishes that you enjoyed making.

After flitting around the kitchen, giving help to those who need it, and drinking more wine than you needed, dinner was ready to be served. You all move to the dining room where you enjoy dinner. Conversation flowed easily among you all and the more freely the wine flowed, the easier the conversation did.

You had just cleared the table, with help from Reid, when Morgan asks, “So how did the two of you meet? Rossi has been pretty quiet about it.”

Dave smiles at you, giving you a small nod. You blush slightly before jumping into the story of the day your life changed.

One year ago

You had just gotten a job as a server at an upscale Italian restaurant near where you live. You were hoping to gain some insight from the cooks to deepen your knowledge of Italian cuisine and give you a step up in your culinary classes.

So far though, all you had learned was how snooty and disrespectful people could be. And how much people could spend on alcohol. In. A. Restaurant.

Today was different though. Yes, you had your usual rude customers, but there was one gentleman that was in your serving section that made it all worth it.

He was kind, charismatic, and handsome, but most importantly dining alone, without a wedding ring. You found yourself lingering at his table a bit longer each time, hanging on to his every word. As you reluctantly return to his table for the last time, you were bringing the check, he asks the question you secretly had been hoping he would all night.

“Bellissima (beautiful), would you care to join me?” He asks, his voice husky and sensual.

You smile shyly before responding. “I would love to.” You sit across from him then and the two of you spend the next hour and a half talking about anything and everything. You share stories about your childhood. He tells you about his job with the FBI. You tell him about culinary school and you learn he is a well-known author. The longer you talk to him, the more you wish the night would never end. It was as if you had known him all your life, that’s how comfortable being around him was.

Sadly though, your night drew to a close and the two of you stood up from the table. He moves a step closer to you before saying in a low voice, “I would love to see you again.”

You blush and nod. “I would too.” The two of you exchanged numbers and parted with a hug. A long hug.

After you gathered your belongings, you headed outside towards your car. A shrill trilling sounded from your pocket, causing you to stop. You answer it without looking to see who it is.

“Hello.” You answer

“Y/N, I thought I’d see if you were free tomorrow night?” His husky voice sent tingles down your spine.

“Yes, I am.” You respond as a smile breaks out on your face.

“Well, how about dinner tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight?”

And after that, the two of you were practically inseparable, doing everything you could together.

“Awww! That’s adorable!” Penelope squeals, pulling you into a side hug.

Morgan laughs. “Man, Rossi’s got game.” He gave Rossi a good-hearted slap on the shoulder.

“Well, theoretically, when taking into consideration Rossi’s -”, Reid starts into a factual ramble but is cut off by Hotch saying, “Reid, Reid, slow down. Let’s not freak Y/N out yet.”

The conversation naturally breaks off into groups and you lean into Dave’s shoulder. He leans towards your ear, whispering sweet nothings in Italian to you, his hot breath fanning your ear, and his words relaxing you. Everything else fades away until it is the two of you. You grab one of his hands, lifting it and pressing a gentle kiss to it. You turn towards his ear and murmur, “Ti amo (I love you).”

He presses a kiss to your temple before softly saying, “Ti amo, mia regina (I love you, my queen).”

Sitting here, with Dave, surrounded by those he considers family, you couldn’t be happier.

#criminal minds #imagine #criminal minds imagine #fandom #criminal minds fandom #cruminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader insert #reader insert #rossi #david rossi #david rossi x reader #rossi x reader #rossi x you #david rossi x you

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy Three

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 30th, 2001

“You boys have a lot of explaining to do!” Grace snapped at Emile and Remy the second they walked in the apartment building.

“What? Why?” Emile asked. “Everything okay, Grace?”

“There was a woman screaming for the two of you all day on Thanksgiving,” Grace said with a scowl. “I couldn’t get a wink of sleep that morning.”

Remy paled but Emile just grabbed Remy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t realize that woman might come looking for us while we were out of town, but I should have.”

Remy was trembling as Grace muttered a dark, “Don’t let it happen again,” walking away.

“Should we file a restraining order?” Emile muttered to Remy.

“Maybe we should just move,” Remy mumbled back.

October 16th, 2002

Remy stared at the ceiling of the bedroom, eyes wide open and mind racing. Emile was curled into his side, sleeping soundly, but Remy couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. He glanced at the clock and watched the seconds tick by for a while, before turning to look at his boyfriend. Emile looked so at peace, and it made Remy a little jealous. He had a small nightmare about his mother and now he couldn’t get back to sleep.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Remy made his way out of the bed without waking up Emile, and padded out to the living room. He glanced outside the windows, just to make sure his mother wasn’t around, and let out a low breath. He was being ridiculous, of course his mother wouldn’t be here. She had gotten the message to leave him alone for the time being, and she hadn’t been back here since...the holidays, where Emile and Remy had been visiting Emile’s family anyway.

Remy moved away from the windows and to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He felt wide awake, but he knew he needed at least a little sleep if he wanted to be functional at work later today...tomorrow? No, later today, it was past midnight.

Drinking the water down, Remy wandered over to the couch after putting the glass in the sink, and curled up on a corner of the couch, grabbing a book to read. The visibility wasn’t great, but there was just enough light through the windows that Remy could read the words on the page.

As he read, he could feel his nerves calming little by little, and the next thing he knew, he could hear snickering above him. He blinked blearily to find it was the early morning, and Emile was standing over him, staring at him with both amusement and bemusement warring on his face. “Comfy?” Emile asked.

Remy stretched and groaned. “Not really,” he said. “But I couldn’t sleep.”

Emile frowned. “What woke you up?”

“I dreamt about my mother again,” Remy sighed. “She had come back here, with Toby in tow, and the two of them were arguing that I should leave you and come ‘back home.’ And I know Toby would never do that in real life, because he cares about me too much, but the scary thing was that my mother could very well do that. And sure, we dodged her last holidays, but what about this year? We’re not heading to your family’s place, we agreed.”

Emile frowned. “I mean, if she shows up we can call the cops,” he said simply. “I know that’s not super comforting, but I’ve been planning to ask you something anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any.”

“Okay...?” Remy asked. A pit of dread was building in his stomach that he couldn’t explain.

“Would you want to move someplace bigger? With more space?” Emile asked. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be right away. But sometime soon. Would that help you sleep easier?”

“I...” Remy was embarrassed at his answer. “Yeah, probably...”

“No shame in that. We can look at townhouses in the area and see if anything jumps out at us,” Emile said with an easy shrug. “Maybe move after the new year.”

“And we wouldn’t have to pay rent anymore, just a mortgage,” Remy said with a small, wry smile.

“Pretty much!” Emile chirped. “Now, I think you need some coffee in your system, and I know you need a shower, so how about we start getting ready for the day and continue this talk when we don’t have to worry about me getting to classes and you getting to work?”

“Okay, okay,” Remy said, holding his hands up in surrender and heading to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. “One quick question, though: how much of the mortgage, in theory, would I be able to cover? Because I can cover half of the rent just fine, but a house is gonna be more expensive.”

“Honest answer?” Emile asked. “I don’t know. It’s gonna depend on the house we get, and the loans we get to get the house.”

Remy pulled a face. “Great. I don’t want you paying for the whole thing, Emile, that’s just not fair!”

“Relax, Rem. I could pay the mortgage and you could pay the bills, if that makes you feel a little more even,” Emile said. “But we’re in this together for the long haul. I don’t mind paying more of the mortgage than you, when it’s pretty clear we’re going to be staying together for a long time, if not, you know, the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, God, the rest of our lives,” Remy laughed. “That’s honestly a scary thought.”

“Why?” Emile asked. “I just assumed that was what we’d do?”

“No, no, it’s what I assume, too,” Remy rushed to assure. “I just...don’t really think about what that means too much, and when I do, it scares me. Not the thought of ‘tying myself down’ to one person, or whatever crap straight people say about getting married, but...the prospect of that not actually happening. What would happen if we didn’t stay together forever.”

“Well, if we both assume that we’re going to stay together, then there’s no worries,” Emile said. “Because I don’t want to leave you and you don’t want to leave me. So neither of us will be forced to leave.”

“I...guess so...” Remy said slowly.

“But if it’s a scary thought, I don’t want to force you to think about it,” Emile waved off. “And you still need to shower before your coffee is ready.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile but went to take a shower. Internally, his mind was reeling, trying to put pieces of this puzzle together. Remy didn’t want to leave Emile, and Emile didn’t want to leave Remy. The fear of them not being together one day was unfounded, so why was he so scared?

As he stepped into the shower spray, Remy hummed and felt his muscles relax. It was a good question. Was it because that while they would stay together, it wasn’t technically permanent? They couldn’t get married, because no one would marry two men to each other. But you didn’t need the promise of marriage to love someone, right? Right. But...love wasn’t permanent, was it? Someone could say they loved someone and then turn around and dump them on the spot just because the spark wasn’t there anymore.

Emile and Remy had worked hard to make sure their sparks turned into a fireplace that kept going even when they couldn’t constantly tend to it, though, didn’t they? They had worked hard at their love. And yet Remy was still scared of losing Emile. Why?

Well...Toby and Remy loved each other as brothers. They had been inseparable for a long time. And now neither knew where the other one was. Remy had thought Vanessa had loved him, until she went off to college. And if he really wanted to go digging deep...Mom always said she loved him and then would turn around and act like he didn’t exist if he did something she didn’t like. Heaven forbid he break one of the rules, too. Then he’d get punished and have his mom say it was “for his own good” and that she loved him still. People in his life who said that they loved him no matter what were rarely telling the truth.

...That was depressing. But it also explained a lot. Remy nearly jumped out of the shower as soon as he was done, hollering, “Hey, Emile! I know where all my commitment issues stem from now!”

Emile opened the door to the bathroom just as Remy was wrapping a towel around his waist and Remy yipped. “Hey! No! Door closed!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Emile exclaimed, closing the door.

Remy walked out, dirty clothes in hand as he huffed. “There’s this great new thing called ‘knocking,’” he quipped.

“We’ve seen each other in less, I thought you wouldn’t mind,” Emile sighed, following Remy into the bedroom as Remy tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper and got new ones out. “Where do your commitment issues stem from?”

“Big shocker, you’re never gonna guess,” Remy said drily, facing away from Emile as he changed and said, “It’s my family. All of ‘em.”

“Wait. Even Toby?” Emile asked, and he sounded genuinely shocked.

“Well, Toby is a reason, but he’s not the reason,” Remy said. “He’s just...one nail in the coffin. But Vanessa said she loved me until she went off to college. Toby said he loved me and he’d never lose touch with me and then we did. And my mother said she loved me all the time and then turned around and treated me like something to be scraped off her shoe and discarded. I’ve never really had a steady sense of being loved in my life. So when someone says they love me forever, my brain says they don’t really mean forever, and I wait for them to drop me like everyone else always had.”

Emile stared at Remy in shock. “That is horrifying and insightful at the same time,” he said simply.

Remy shrugged and walked to the kitchen getting his morning coffee with a happy sigh. “Yeah. But I know the reason, so hopefully I can work past it now, you know?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Emile said. “That’s good. Tangentially related to that: would you ever want to get married to me?”

“If it was legal, yeah,” Remy said. “Sort of cements the idea that we would never leave each other into place. Why?”

“Because I might be low-key planning a wedding to invite all of your family to and promptly assassinate them,” Emile said simply.

Remy laughed. “I know you’re serious, Emile, but please don’t actually kill them? I don’t want to marry you only for you to spend life in prison.”

“Oh, all right, I’ll spare them for you,” Emile said simply. “But just say the word and they’re dead.”

Remy laughed more and Emile actually cracked a smile, which, considering their current topic of discussion, was surprising. “All seriousness, though,” Emile said. “You would marry me?”

“Emile, I’d propose to you if I knew there was a chance we could get married legally,” Remy said simply. “There’s no chance right now so I’m not planning on saving up for a ring, but that doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.”

“And that doesn’t scare you?” Emile asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it terrifies me,” Remy said. “But I know the ‘why’ so we can work on it together. And once we have the chance to marry each other, I’ll have that existential crisis. For now, I’m just happy getting to be your boyfriend.”

Emile offered Remy a smile. “You know, when we first met I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be caught dead calling anyone your boyfriend, even if you said you were gay.”

“Well, I would have seen it as a safety issue, especially if that guy wasn’t out to everyone yet,” Remy said simply. “But I’m learning that here is safe. And that’s a good thing, you know? I won’t immediately die if I say I’m attracted to someone.”

“Always a plus,” Emile said. “So. We get a house, we hopefully get engaged and we get married when it’s legal, anything else we should plan for?”

“Should we plan for one of your sperm donor kids showing up at our door?” Remy asked.

Emile burst out laughing. “I don’t think so. The chances of anyone using that sample are so small that the chances of them existing, let alone existing in a bad home life seem infinitesimal.”

“Okay, so house, engagement, marriage. Maybe my own shop. Anything else?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged. “Me kissing you within the next five minutes?”

Remy grinned. “Only if you’re willing to stand my coffee breath.”

Emile laughed and gave Remy a long, loving kiss. “Somehow, I don’t mind,” he murmured.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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thehomierobbstark · 5 years ago

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Kissing Strangers II: Communication

Shame [Prelude] // Kissing Strangers [Part I] // In The Cut [Side Story]

A/N: Annndd we’re back yall!! I know I disappeared for a long while this time, but I’ve been writing and strategizing in the background and I’m hoping I can publish at least some of the things I’ve been working on very soon. Forever thankful for your patience. Forever grateful for your support. Always humbled by the fact you guys allow me to do my thing offline and come back when I need to. Y’all are unreal, and the love is very very real, and I don’t think I can ever put into words how much all of you honestly mean to me ❤️❤️❤️. Anyway. Back to this story. A tiny insight into just one of the things I’ve been struggling with and trying to overcome this year, so I decided to put it into a fic and share it with yall. As always, thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy!!!

Warnings: Minimal Erik appearance, this is mostly x reader based. We on some Softgirl shit this chapter ya’ll. There is a POV change at the very end, hopefully it doesn’t read too confusing.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!! x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

Sidenote: No tags this round until I can get a few more pieces out but all new stories will be linked in my bio!

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“…You know I still don’t see what the problem is, Y/N.”

You throw your head back, silently groaning to keep your friend on the other side of the line from hearing you.

You knew you should have called Simone instead.

“Um, hello??? Did you forget you had me on speaker phone, bitch? Don’t be grumbling under your breath at me goddammit, you know I’m right! And don’t you dare call Simone ass either after we hang up. I love her, but she’ll have you overthinking and seeing problems that aren’t really there. You know how them Scorpios be.”

You mumble a defeated ‘fine, OK’ at her and grab your phone, relocating yourself over to your vanity table to continue your conversation while you do your hair.

Reaching up, you tug the t-shirt wrapped around your head free as your damp curls fall over your face, turning around to drape the wet shirt over the back of your chair.

Tying the front of your hair up in a bun, you grab your spray bottle and one of your brushes and start to spray and detangle your hair, the leftover conditioner in it from the shower helping to make the process easier.

As you gently smooth your brush through your curls and fall into your hair routine, you start to ponder on your current predicament, allowing your friends wise words to penetrate your mind.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Don’t get silent on me now, Y/N. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

You take a deep breath, trying to filter your thoughts and make some sense of them.

“I don’t know, Kay. I don’t really know how to explain it. I just feel like he’s not…interested.” You shrug your shoulders even though you know she can’t see it, not really knowing any other way to explain yourself.

“Okay. And what makes you say that?”

You inhale, taking a small scoop of leave-in conditioner and working it through a section of hair while you think.

“I dunno. I feel like when we do talk, its great, and there’s a connection there. But sometimes there’s these long periods of absence with no communication, and when that happens I feel like I’m always the last one whose reached out, you know?”

Raking your fingers through your curls one last time, you watch your coils shrink up in the mirror, the tights spirals coming to life after their first layer of moisture.

Unclipping another section in the back, you scoop some more product into your hands, repeating the process.

“Okay, I can feel where you’re coming from. But let me ask you this: what do you mean by long periods of absence?”

Your hands pause in your hair, and you bite your lip, knowing your next words are gonna make you sound like a complete dumbass.

“Uhh…”

“Yeah?” Kay prompts you to continue.

“Umm.. like… two or three days… sometimes?” Your voice gets really small and high pitched at the end, knowing you were being a little ridiculous.

“…Girl.”

You add some additional info, hoping maybe it will help your case.

“Sometimes it’ll even be a whole week tho, too!”

“Y/N.”

“…yes, Kay.”

“You know Erik is in the military, right?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed at the reminder of a fact you knew and thought about often yourself, especially when it came to this issue.

“Yes, I know that Kay.”

“Okay, then you also know that he probably has a lot on his plate and he’s most likely constantly busy all the time.”

You kiss your teeth, absentmindedly running your fingers through your hair again, more-so in a frustratedly-busy way than in a hair-care way.

“Yes Kay, I know that. But come on now. Let’s not act like people aren’t constantly on their phones all the time nowadays. Not to push the tiresome ‘millennial narrative’, but who goes days without checking their phone anymore? It’s not like that nigga is out fighting a war, he’s doing combat training.”

You can hear the undertone of complaint and whining in your voice, and you absolutely hated it. Here you were, a Communications major and Black Women’s Studies minor, and you were getting bothered some dude you kissed once, (okay, twice) wasn’t talking to you enough.

You had yourself fucked up.

You hear chuckling on the other end of the phone and your internal rage subdues itself for a moment, irritation taking its place.

“Damn, Y/N. You must really like this guy.”

You cross your arms, slouching down in your chair while you pout, having too much pride to grace her with a response. She continues, already knowing the look on your face.

“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you get so worked up over someone. He must really be something special.”

You grab your phone, holding it to your face and practically yelling into it.

“HELLO!! Did you not just hear what I said? I just told you this nigga is borderline ignoring me and you just called him ‘special’!”

More laughter takes over on her end again and you toss your phone back on the table, finishing your section and unclipping the last one in the back, muttering under your breath about Erik being a special piece of shit.

Once Kay finally recovers from your mini tirade, she speaks once again, full of a wisdom and knowledge you knew your stubborn ass needed to hear, even if you didn’t want to at the moment.

“He’s not ignoring you Y/N, and you know that. The only reason you feel like this is because you have strong feelings and you’re not sure if they’re being reciprocated or not, and the long distance certainly doesn’t help. Have you told him how you’ve been feeling?”

You sit there and delay a moment, nestling a little more into your stubbornness because of the fact that her words just punched a hole right into the wall of insecurity you’d been maintaining over the years.

She waits for your response, already knowing the answer.

“….No.”

Her voice softens. “Okay, but how do you expect for him to know how you’re feeling if you don’t tell him? You’re letting yourself overthink and go through all of these emotions by yourself, meanwhile he’s half a world away thinking that everything is fine. If you don’t clue him in to what it is you’re going through, he won’t be able to help.”

Finishing with the bottom half of your hair, you wipe your hands off on the damp t-shirt and unwrap the rest of the hair on the top of your head. You frown at her last statement, not liking the way it made you feel.

“I don’t know if he should even have to help me with any of this though, Kay. I mean, these are my issues. I’m the one whose clearly having trouble with this, it’s not fair for me to ask him to help me figure my shit out.”

She makes a hum of acknowledgement while you continue expressing yourself.

“I mean, how would I feel if some dude came to me with a mountain full of problems expecting me to fix them? I’d fucking laugh in his face and walk away. I can’t ask that of him.” The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you had a lot of unresolved issues you were still healing from. What kind of person would you be if you involved yourself with someone else, knowing that?

“Okay. I can see where you would think that, but you’re thinking about it in the wrong way. You think that if you open up to him and tell him what you’re feeling, that it’s the same as asking him to fix your problems. But you’re not like that, Y/N. In fact, you’ve never been like that.”

You think a moment about what it is she’s saying, trying to decide whether or not you agree.

“I mean, think about it, Y/N. When have you ever asked someone for help? I mean genuinely stopped and reached out to someone else, or even told them when you’re having trouble with something? You don’t, hun. You’ve always dug your heels into the dirt and rolled up your sleeves to get it done by yourself because you don’t trust that someone else can really be there for you the way you need them to be. No matter how many people you have in your corner ready to fight for you.”

You think about all the lectures and scoldings you’d gotten from friends and family over the years because of the times you’d soldiered at something alone rather than take the help that was offered to you. You’d felt that if you always needed someone else to help you get through something, then what did that say about your own strength and ability to take care of yourself? You’d rather die struggling than ever give someone else the power to say that you wouldn’t be anything without them.

“Look, Y/N/N. I know this is really hard. And I know this is something you don’t like to talk about, but if you like this guy as much as I think you do, you’re gonna have to learn how to let go and trust that you and Erik are building a relationship where you can truly depend on each other. That includes communicating your feelings even when you’re not sure how the other person will receive them.

It’s gonna be scary as hell, I won’t lie. But you gotta know deep down inside that love can’t exist in the same place that doubt lives. You gotta trust the process.”

You’d stopped doing your hair completely now, sitting back and twirling a finger around one of your strands while Kay talked.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand exactly what she was saying. Kay definitely had the bulk of experience between the two of you when it came to romantic relationships, and the thing you’d come to really admire about her throughout the years of your friendship was her ability to always put herself back out there once again with an open heart and mind, no matter how badly the last relationship may have ended.

Your own inability to deal with your emotional vulnerability was something you were far too aware of, and you’d seen it affect your personal relationships time and time again, your current situation with Erik just being the most recent example.

It was rare for you to catch feelings for someone, and to be honest, the fact that you and Erik had made it this far into whatever it was you guys were doing had you shaken to your core. Every moment and interaction with him was completely new for you, and your uncertainty with navigating this new ‘thing’ was starting to show with your recent anxieties about the situation.

You really wanted to believe that Erik was feeling you, because it was too late to deny your feelings for him. But there was a tiny little voice in the back of your head always saying something to keep you guessing, making you doubt whether or not what the both of you had was even real.

It was time for you to make a decision.

“Y/N? Y/N? You still there?”

You blink yourself back to the present, clearing your throat and picking up the phone, taking it off speaker phone and holding it to your ear.

“Yeah, I’m still hear, Kay.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.” Your voice sounds far away, still deep in thought as you reflect on the mental hurdles your mind was trying to overcome so you could figure out how to move past the fear holding your heart hostage.

“Well okay, girl. I don’t want to hold you up, but I want you to think about what I said some more, OK?”

You chuckle a little, nodding your head as you answer your friend.

“Okay, Kay. I will. I promise.” You add on the last two words, knowing that if you said them, she would believe you. You always kept your promises.

“Good. I expect a full report tomorrow morning when I call you before work!” She laughs too, halfway serious. “…And Y/N?”

“Yeah, Kay?”

You can hear her quiet back down a little, the soft tenderness of her voice seeping back into her words once more as she spoke.

“Do me a favor please and try to call him, okay? Just, try and talk to him, at least once. That way when you hear his voice and listen to what he says, you’ll know whether or not what you feel is real.”

Your breath gets heavy and your heart skips a beat, almost feeling it in your throat. Call him? You hadn’t thought of that. Come to think of it, you’d never called him.

Other than the last time you saw him in person, pretty much all your communication had been through text except for the occasional video message.

“Can you do that, Y/N?” Your best friends compassionate voice speaks in your ear, and you swallow thickly, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I can do that I think.”

“You promise?”

Damn. Should’ve never said that shit.

You roll your eyes, stifling a deep breath. “Yeah yeah, I promise.”

“Good!” You can practically feel her cheesy ass grin through the phone, already knowing it was plastered on her face triumphantly from giving you the challenge.

“Love youuu,” she sings out over the phone, and you kiss your teeth, groaning.

“Love your annoying ass too. Now get off my phone, wasting all my damn minutes.”

“Bitch, now you know damn well you ain’t got no one else to talk to to be kicking me off like this.”

“GOOD-BYE KAY.”

After a few more rounds of back and forth and finally hanging up (but not before agreeing to call her back in the morning with allll the details), you walk over to your nightstand and plug your phone in, returning to the vanity to finish your hair.

After slathering your strands in a second coat of hair cream and deciding against using a gel this week, you glance at the clock, noting that the night was still young and you had time to cook and clean the kitchen like you’d planned. Tying your hair up in a high pineapple, you slip on some fuzzy socks and head to the kitchen, stomach grumbling hungrily.

~~~

A couple hours later you plop down onto your bed, completely exhausted and ready to relax. Pulling your bowl of shrimp scampi over to you, you spike a shrimp with your fork, popping it into your mouth while you flip through the channels to find something to watch.

Your eyes glance down to the time on the cable box, seeing that it was only about 7:30.

It should be about 10:30 where Erik is, now.

The thought had crossed your mind before you could even stop it, and you close your eyes, willing yourself to get control over your thoughts.

You promised Kay you would call him.

Goddammit. You slam the remote down on the bed, it making a soft thud against the comforter, and you sit up, placing your bowl onto your nightstand and picking up your phone, unplugging it.

You twirl it around in your hand a few times, trying one last time to try and find a way to talk yourself out of it.

But of course, the one time you actually want the nagging little voice in the back of your mind to say something, she’s as quiet as a mouse.

Before you can second guess it, you quickly open your phone and tap the screen until you reach Erik’s contact, finger hovering over the call button.

It’s time to make a decision, Y/N.

Fuck it.

Taking a deep breath, you press the phone icon, pressing the phone to your ear as you wait for the call to connect.

When it starts to ring, you tense a little, bringing your knees to your chest as you wrap your arm around them, feeling your nerves start to creep up on you.

By the third ring, you wonder if maybe you caught him at a bad time, remembering what he’d said to you once about having a strict bed ti-

“Hello?”

You pause, your mouth agape as your eyes widen, your words getting stuck in your throat.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

You open and close your mouth, not sure what to say.

“Babygirl?”

You finally get the breath back in your lungs, and you speak.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. Sorry, I just, I didn’t know what to say. I…I’ve never called you before.” You give a weak chuckle, your fingers winding themselves tightly around the hem of your shirt.

“I know. Is everything okay? Are you okay?” You can hear the worry in his voice, and you could kick yourself for accidentally making him panic like this.

“Yeah I’m okay, Erik. I’m okay.”

“Okay, good.” You hear his voice calm a little, followed by a whoosh of breath. “What’s up then, baby?”

You feel your insides warm at the pet name, your cheeks twitching at the corners into a small smile.

“Nothing, I um…”

You fist your free hand into a loose fist, twiddling your fingers against one another as you struggle to get the words out.

Just say it.

Closing your eyes, you try again, clearing your throat.

“I uh… I miss you.”

~~~~~

Three thousand miles away at the Natick, MA US Navy Department, Erik stands outside the Naval Operations building, the rough sound of two M1161 Growlers noisily passing by in the background.

It had been a tough week, much like the past four that he’d been struggling to get through without losing a part of himself in some way. He knew you always went to bed early for work, so he’d been putting off talking to you for another few days until he had time that he could set aside and devote to just you.

But here you were, on his line, calling him out of the blue. And the sound of your voice was the sweetest thing he’d heard all deployment.

His cheeks ache at your confession, much like his heart, and he bites his lip to keep from smiling like a lovestruck teen.

“I miss you too, babygirl. More than you even know.”

#okay it's 1 in the morning and i have work tomorrow but i WILL put this in my bio tomorrow okay lol #thehomiefics #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther #bp #black panther fanfiction #black panther fandom

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ilguna · 4 years ago

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Tacenda - Chapter Four (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 4.3k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

It took a little longer to get out of bed this morning, like it had on the train. Finnick sat next to you the entire time while you explained over the nausea. You told him your theory that it’s because you’re stuffing yourself, because it’s logical. All he did was continue to brush your hair out of your face and suggested not to eat as much.

Which was the thing. You ate a light breakfast, stayed hydrated throughout the day. Then you ate healthy snacks while you were getting ready for the parade. And then once again, when you got into the apartment, you ate slowly and tried not to shovel it in too quickly.

Normally you eat as quickly as possible because you won’t fill up as quickly. If you’re taking your time, then of course you’re going to be full faster. And you didn’t even eat that much last night either. You thought it would give you a stomach ache right after eating, but there you were, the morning after.

When you had gotten up, you then noticed a pain in your achilles on your feet.

There’s blisters lining the back of your feet because of the heels that you were forced to wear during the tribute parade. Laurel knew what she was doing when she gave those massive shoes to you, and you have to give her props. Her revenge was silent, but lasting. You’ll have these for a little while.

Unfortunately for her, you know a couple of ways to keep them from getting worse. The first thing you did at brunch–since you and Finnick had gotten up a little later than expected–was complain to Elysia and Mags until they told you to shut up. Elysia told you she would find some healing cream for you to use. But in the meantime, you would just have to deal with it.

To not make them worse, you’ve decided against shoes today. You’ll still be wearing the training outfits that are provided. You had a choice when it came to a top, a sports bra, a tank top and a full-sleeved shirt. You decided for the sports bra, since it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought. Plus, the leggings they’ve provided are high-waisted on you. You’re not showing as much skin as you thought you would.

Finnick didn’t really have a chance when it came to what to wear. He slid on his sleeveless tank top and the leggings that he was provided. It was either sleeveless or full-sleeved. Leave it to your husband to show off all the muscle.

After you guys were dressed–opting for a shower after training–you and him said your goodbyes to Elysia and Mags. You two will see them at dinner, but not in-between. They’re sponsor hunting, they’re going to start tying down people.

As you and Finnick head down the hallway, hand-in-hand, he starts to head for the elevator. He knows the plan for today, this is just to throw off anyone that might be watching.

“Let’s take the stairs today,” you tell him, letting go of his hand as you bounce around in the hallway giddily, it’s all an act, “As a warm-up. We can’t just go in there without stretching first.”

“We’re going down the stairs, not up,” he says, but there’s a smile hinting at his face.

“All the same to me!” You smile at him.

You go to grab the door first, but Finnick isn’t having it. He practically pushes you out of the way so he can get there first. All so he can open the door for you, what a dork.

“Thank you.” you chirp, skipping into the stairwell, he follows you in, and even makes a point to pull the door shut entirely.

At the bottom of the staircase is Haymitch, staring up at you guys. You motion for him to go up the couple of steps to where you are. This is mainly to get away from the door, there’s two peacekeepers out there. If they hear anything, they are going to report it. The smart thing to do is get away from the door, and stay quiet.

“I came down the stairs.” he tells you two, “They don’t know I’m in here.”

“Same as us.” Finnick nods.

You lean up against the wall, fanning your face since the humidity in the stairwell isn’t the best. It’s making you feel like you’re overheating, like heat stroke, which you’ve had before in the summertime from being on the boats for too long. The only problem is, you haven’t gone outside since yesterday during the parade. These next few days, you’re going to be inside.

Almost as if Finnick knows that something is up, he wraps an arm around your waist. If you fall, he’ll keep you from collapsing against the cement. Although, being pressed up against his body is making all of this worse. You don’t complain though, you’d rather have his arm around you than not. It’s a safety net.

“Katniss is stand-offish.” Haymitch begins, and you can’t help but snort. Neither of you interrupt him though, “She’s difficult to work with at first, but the more you talk to her, the easier she’ll be.”

“But why?” you ask, “We don’t mind being in an alliance with her, but what’s your motive of making one for her?”

He lowers his voice considerably, “A rebellion.”

You and Finnick share a look, and just right there is enough communication. He gives you a look of ‘this is happening’ and you tell him ‘our time is now’. Just in that one little look, an understanding has passed through you two.

“We’re in.” Finnick says for the both of you, shocking Haymitch, “What will it take?”

Haymitch is shocked, “That’s… it?”

You tilt your head, “The districts are going nuts right now. Just at the mention of it, four goes wild. Now’s the time to do it. What do we have to do to help?”

And just like that, Haymitch launches into his explanation. Starting from the beginning, and how the berries had angered Snow. Katniss and Peeta’s families were on the line, and so they were trying to do everything they could to quiet down the districts. Including a marriage to appease the Capitol to prove that the action was done out of love, rather than resistance.

Haymitch tells you that there’s talk about it everywhere, and people are looking at her. He believes that she can be the face of it. She can get people moving behind her, but a few things need to happen first.

She needs to stay alive. An alliance acts in her best interest, but since she’s stubborn, she won’t be making it by herself. She might suggest a few people that she might like, but other than that, it’s one thing or nothing. The worst thing about it, is that Katniss can’t know that any of this is going on.

Haymitch is supposed to be ‘saving’ Peeta, and not her. Since she was ‘saved’ the first time around, she wants it to be Peeta’s turn. But Peeta doesn’t like that, and he’s already acting with Haymitch to make it look like they’re working in Katniss’s favor. It’s unnecessarily complicated, and you’re not too interested in that.

To boil it down, you and Finnick will spread the word a little bit, bring in people that might find this to be a good idea. Keep it from the careers because they can be difficult. They love the Capitol because they spoil them. So, telling them would result in the destruction of the plan.

Katniss can’t know that any of this is happening. You have to pretend that none of this is happening. Haymitch will give Finnick a bracelet as solidarity with you guys, since you’re going to be the main part of the protection. You’ll show it to Katniss inside of the arena, and just like that, hopefully she’ll put the puzzle pieces together and allow you to help her.

The last part of the plan is keep her alive long enough for them to take her out and take them to District Thirteen. You called Haymitch a lunatic, because everyone knows what happened to thirteen for being rebellious. If they’re still thriving, then you guys would have seen them by now. But all he had to do was tell you that they have a gamemaker in on it already.

That was convincing enough. If a gamemaker is in on this, the plan will be much easier. They have more insight than you guys do. Haymitch can be unreliable, but you asked if he’s sure that Plutarch is trustable, and he told you yes.

After that, you split. Haymitch went back upstairs to get his tributes, and you and Finnick left the stairwell together, hand in hand. You made a comment while passing the peacekeepers about being tired, telling Finnick that you didn’t sleep well last night, and you hope that you’ll wake up more as time goes on.

It wasn’t until you entered the actual building, when you started to feel better. The entire building has AC like you wouldn’t believe. It was only a couple of minutes before you completely forgot about it entirely.

You and Finnick spend a moment, finding people and choosing wisely. Unsurprisingly, he wants to have a chat with Johanna, and you decide that you might as well see Cecelia again. Her and Woof are sticking together it seems, they’re sitting around the bug station.

That’s a good thing to touch up on. The dangers that might be hiding around inside of the arena. There’s so many possibilities and dangers that the arena holds, that it just makes you overwhelmed.

First, it’s fish, and the type that live in the fresh water, or salt water. Next are the types of leaves, is it ivy or not. The trees, do they burn smoke easily? The berries and the chance that they’re poisonous. And this is all to be paired with not having the food, or the iodine to make the water safe. Not being able to skin rabbits and cook it properly so you don’t get sick.

Finnick taught you CPR one of the times on the train while you were teaching tributes before all of this–of course. That goes right along with first aid. You’ve gone as far as to recreate the creams to show the tributes which ones mean which. What’s healing, what’s supposed to be used on your weapon, and so on. You teach them how to stitch, and create stents and the list goes on.

It’s so simple to overlook something like bugs. When you’re so worried about literally everything else.

Cecelia offers you a big smile when you sit beside her. Watching as she and Woof easily identify the types of bugs. You keep the conversation light, and then you begin to enter in the keywords.

“How would you feel about an alliance?” you ask, she looks up, “This can go for you and Woof.”

Woof smiles, but Cecelia looks a little confused, probably wondering what’s bringing this all on. You almost can’t believe that she thinks that you wouldn’t invite her into an alliance with you and Finnick. She’s practically your best friend, for her not to be in it would be stupid.

“Sure, is Finnick fine with this?” she asks, going back to the bug game.

“Actually, a few of us are okay with this.” it’s a hint that there’s more than one of you, “it’s sort of a protection plan.”

Cecelia nods, thinking about this. You hope that she’s smart enough to get this. She’s raised three kids that have spoken in cryptic ways when they’re toddlers. It can’t be that hard to decipher the double meaning in words. You had to go through this all with Alyssum.

“Behalf?” she asks subtly.

“Katniss.” you tell her, “Girl on fire, it’s quite a brand isn’t it? It’s almost like she’s trying to set the Capitol ablaze.”

Her eyes flicker to yours the same time that Woof does, “Is that so?”

“You don’t think so?” you’re hoping that isn’t a no.

You watch as Cecelia’s face slowly holds a smile, “I do think so. Count me in.”

“Me too.” Woof tells you.

“More info to come.” you mouth quietly, and they nod slightly, “Nice seeing you guys again.”

Deciding that visiting two people is enough, you go ahead and head over to one of the knife throwing stations. As you get closer, you can see that they have projections now, it’s not just dummies anymore. They move, and get closer, and throw virtual weapons.

“Perfect.” you laugh, stepping up to one of the stations.

At the programming, you go ahead and make it the hardest possible. You select your weapon, keeping it at knives. It’ll be easier to throw than spears. Spears, you have to get your hands right on the hilt before throwing it. As for knives, you’re literally picking them up and throwing them.

You go ahead and pick up a few, feeling them in your hand. As a test run, the program automatically gives you one to start with. You have to find your footing first. You’re not in shoes, you’re barefoot. It’ll be easier for you to slip, since your feet aren’t gripped like the bottom of a shoe is.

However, you’ve been training for months for this exact moment. It might have been in shoes, but you haven’t fallen in a long ass time. You’ve always caught yourself, gradually becoming less clumsy as time goes along.

You throw the knife, being careful as to watch how it flies through the air. It hits the hologram in the middle of the chest, and then the blocks crumble. Just like that, the game has started, and they’re coming at you. For a moment, you’re overwhelmed, because you need to find a pattern for it.

Then, it all comes to you. They come in twos to three’s. You can hit them the first time if you aim for the chest and above. You’re typically hitting them in the head, getting them down the first time around. But on the off chance of missing it the first time, you always have an extra fourth knife in your hand.

You take them on at one at a time. The closest one is always the easiest, you get them out almost immediately. The second one is a little harder, you lean forward a bit more for this one. And the final one, is the one you’re needing the fourth knife for. They’re farther back on purpose, and they don’t come any closer past the half-way mark.

You throw with more force, allowing your body to move forward with the momentum that you build. The knives rest between your left hand’s fingers. You’ll grab the handle, flip for the blade, and then chuck.

The game is over before you realize it. There’s no more people coming at you, it’s just the playing field in front of you.

This is when you’re able to see that you’ve successfully hit the wall, that’s over twenty-five feet away from you, hard enough to get the entire knife into the wall. The ones that weren’t tough enough to make it through, dented.

“Damn.” Finnick’s voice is smooth, he whistles slightly, “That was good.”

You turn slowly, almost like you’re revealing yourself. And then it’s all at once and you’re doing jazz hands.

“This–” you jab your thumb at the station, “–is fucking awesome. I could do this all fucking day.”

“Well, go ahead,” he motions, “Do it again.”

You bounce slightly, heading back to the programming thing for the station. You go through the settings of it, curious on what it holds. These things are brand new, and they have endless possibilities on things you can do.

“It can be for two people!” you tell Finnick, looking over your shoulder, wiggling your eyebrows a little bit, “Wanna fight with me?”

Finnick laughs, coming up the steps to join you, “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

“Good.” you set it up, “I was afraid I might have to force you. It’s set to knives, and the hardest it can be.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” Finnick is proud.

You start it, picking up on your technique. You don’t let Finnick know what the pattern is, letting him figure it out on his own. He takes a different approach with it, throwing the knives one at a time, rather than gathering them into his hands. It’s almost like he’ll be overwhelmed if he did it that way.

Eventually, you two have caught up with the system, even if there’s double the amount of holograms running at you. You and him turn it into a competition to see who can get them the fastest. Finnick is ahead, getting the most, moving faster than you are, but the ‘one at a time’ technique eventually fails on him.

You can only hold so many knives in your hand at once, but it works. You can get four or five of them down, leaving one for Finnick because you’re throwing yours so quickly. Eventually, he begins to give up, allowing you to take on the challenge that’s supposed to be for two people.

The last one that comes at you is a little quicker. You take your time with ending the game. Letting him get as close as possible before throwing the knife dead at his chest.

You’re pouring sweat. You can feel it almost everywhere on your body.

“I need a rag, holy fuck.” you wipe your forehead, and the back of your hand literally looks like it’s had water dumped on it.

Finnick grabs one for you, and then one for himself. You sit on the steps as you dry up your skin. Your forehead, the back of your neck, Finnick does his best to pat your back dry.

Your body feels like it’s vibrating from the exercise. It’s a good feeling, you haven’t felt this alive in such a long time. If the hunger games were targeted just for fighting rather than killing people, you might have volunteered sooner. The whole arena, and weapons and testing your survival is a good way to keep your skills in check.

Except, it’s a punishment, so there’s no way that this will ever be just an event for fun. It’s not fun, hundreds of kids have died because of it.

“How are you feeling?” Finnick asks.

“So good.” you tell him, “I need water, and then some time before I do that again.”

“Wanan fuck around with knots?”

“Sure, I could teach you how to tie a noose.”

You get off of where you were sitting, stretching slightly, and then you toss the towel wherever. It doesn’t matter, you won’t be the one cleaning it up, and you could care less about manners. They’re sending you into the games, who cares about one measly little towel?

Someone will come after you and pick it up. Finnick follows the same thing you did, and you skip your way over to the knot tying station. Fortunately, this is the same time that the doors to the training center open.

Finnick looks over, “Girl on fire approaching.”

The guy from nine suddenly pukes, and you cover your mouth, laughing to yourself. Finnick can’t help but to laugh too.

“First impressions always stick,” you snort, stopping in front of the ropes, “Oh shit! Look, they’ve got different types.”

Finnick joins you. He messes around with the rope, creating several different loops, and then he’ll pull it apart. You on the other hand, tie the constrictors knot, and even pull the entire rope off of the display.

“You think you could hang me from the ceiling?” you ask, looking up to see how far away it is, “It would be kinda impressive to get down from there.”

“Don’t test your luck,” he shakes his head at you.

“I think I might!”

You untie the knot that you had made, and instead make one of the ends of the rope heavy. You swing it around a couple of times to make sure that it won’t fall apart, and when it’s sturdy, you toss it straight for the beams. You miss the first time around, but the next, it goes over.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun!” you laugh, “Watch–I can make a swing out of it.’

Finnick does watch as you make a couple of knots to sit and stand on, evenly spaced out. Then, you get on the end with the knots, and use the other side of the rope to pull yourself up.

“This is not real life,” Finnick laughs, “How?”

“Push me,” you laugh, and he complies, “Okay listen, there was a tree that we had in our backyard that was fucking huge. Not as high as these beams, but it was pretty big.”

“Let me guess, you made a tire swing or something dumb like that?”

“Exactly. We used to use old rope that we got from the square, so naturally they snapped easily. This is where I got a ton of practice with getting the rope over a tree branch.” you smile a little bit, “I would always have to climb the tree to tie the rope down, even if it wouldn’t last very long.”

“Which is how you were able to climb that tree so easily.”

“Ding ding!” you laugh, slowly letting yourself down from where you were in the air, “If only Reed were able to see me now. Instead of training, I’m swinging on a rope just for nostalgia’s sake.”

“I see nothing wrong with that.” Finnick tells you, “It’s my turn.”

You laugh, and he gets fixed onto the knots how he wants. You both pull the rope to get him up a little higher, and then you push him so he starts swinging too. You can see some of the other tributes stopping to stare at you guys. Acting like you’re a bunch of nutcases.

Eventually, Johanna jumps down from where she was practicing and heads over to you two.

“Really?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to try.” you smirk, “Wanna go up next?”

“I think I’ll pass,” she goes over to grab a bottle of water.

“Johanna Mason, the girl who never had fun.” Finnick laughs, letting himself down too, “God, that hurts the thighs.”

Johanna rolls her eyes, “I know how to have fun, thank you.”

She then squirts water at you two, smiling slightly as she heads back to where she was practicing. Unbothered, you turn back to the rope swing.

“I should definitely hang upside down.”

“That is where I draw the line.” Finnick tells you, beginning to pull the rope down, “You’re not doing that.”

“Oh, why not?” you pout slightly, but there’s a smile on your face.

“You know why.” he tells you, gathering up the rope and then tossing it back into the display it came from, “What’s next?”

“Fish hook making?” you suggest, offering your hand for him to take.

He does take it, and squeezes your hand tightly, “Mine are going to look so much better than yours.”

“Another competition?” you ask, “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Honey, we both know who’s the better fisher here.”

And only five minutes later, Finnick is eating his words.

“All the fish have fallen asleep again.” you tell him, “Or they’re leaving the area from how long you’re taking.”

He looks a little frustrated, and then motions to your hook, “Not like that could catch anything, anyway.”

“Just because it looks nice, doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.” you argue, looking up when you hear someone coming, “Ah look, we have a judge!”

Katniss doesn’t look too thrilled at her new title.

“Tell us, who’s looking better?” you motion to what you have.

“I’m not done yet–” FInnick tries to protest.

“You can’t fix the unfixable.”

Finnick glares at you, “Honestly, fuck you.”

Katniss cracks a smile, coming closer as she looks over what you guys have made. She seems hesitant, uncomfortable. She’s obviously trying to make allies, but she doesn’t want to. You guys need to make a lasting impression on her. Especially since she’s seen you fuck around with a rope swing and argue over fish hooks so far.

“(Y/n)’s is better.” she decides.

“Smart girl!” you flip off Finnick for a moment, and then you turn to Katniss, “Alright, protege, I could teach you a few things.”

“Like you know anything.” Finnick jokes.

“We come from the exact same district,” you shake your head at him.

Katniss accepts your offer. As soon as she does, the bickering between you and Finnick calms down a lot since you’re in teaching mode. Every now and then Finnick will chime in with some good advice on how to get a fish to bite quicker, or make a hook that’s flimsy but it works.

Eventually, she offers to teach you specifically, how to shoot a bow and arrow. You turn it down, telling her you have better ways to deal with long-range enemies, but you and Finnick definitely follow her over to see what she can do. Sure, you saw her in the arena last year, but these holograms are something else.

She’s quick on her feet. She turns quickly, her eyes are always searching around. She doesn’t get surprised easily, and she almost dances around.

“She doesn’t want to make too much noise,” you point out to Finnick, pressing your finger against the glass, “Look at how she moves her feet.”

“Definitely a hunter, I’ll give her that.” Finnick nods, “I wonder what else she knows.”

By the time she’s done shooting, she’s gathered a whole crowd. The careers, Wiress and Beetee, Johanna, Peeta, Cecelia and Woof and a few of the others. Wiress erupts into clapping when Katniss is finished, and you can’t help but to smile.

“This is going to work perfectly.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair tacenda #tacenda

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harringtonheartache · 5 years ago

Text

Daybreak | Part Two

Part Three

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part two of this fic. A less eventful chapter but a necessary one! Next part will be super fun n’ cute (-:

Word Count: 2,900+

Warning(s): Cussing

A/N: Here ya go! P.S. When I described Steve’s room I took from what little we saw of it in S1 + added some details of my own. I included the The Smiths poster because their debut album came out around the time of ST (1984) and I love their music & would like to think Steve would enjoy it too. & yes Queen and Joy Division are based on my own music taste as well.

“Okay, so this is my room,” he told her as he welcomed her into his bedroom with grand exclamation. “You can have my bed, I don’t mind the floor,” he said as he gathered a spare pillow and blanket from his closet. They were folded nicely, the work of his mother most likely. Disregardful of their neat composure, he tossed the bedding to the floor. She stared at her proposed sleeping arrangement for the night. His bed was double in size compared to what she was used to, presumably offering greater comfort as well. “I promise the sheets are clean,” he spoke up at her apparent reluctance. Her head moved swiftly in his direction, and he stood with a look of utmost sincerity. “Okay,” she told him. She wanted to thank him again, but did not allow herself when his attention fell from her and he went about setting up his own bed for the night.

She climbed on top of the surrendered piece of furniture, feeling the cushioned fabric beneath her as she did so. Her assumptions were correct, it was much nicer than her bunk at the lab.

“So tomorrow I have to go to school,” Steve said, bringing up a topic of conversation that needed discussing before they could sleep.

“School?”

“Yeah, it’s where people go to learn. I have to leave at 7 in the morning, and you can’t come with me, but I will be back by 3.” The panic returned. As much as she thought herself someone to take comfort in solitude, she knew herself someone to fear such a thing in unfamiliar environments.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be back. You can sleep the entire time I’m gone if you want, I won’t be that long. But you have to stay in this room. My mom will be home and she can’t know you’re here, remember?”

There were too many holes in the plan. “What if she comes upstairs?” Upstairs was supposed to be her hideaway.

“Um,” Steve returned to a place of deep consideration and planning. “Here,” he said. He moved the upper half of his body forward, partially abandoning his makeshift bed to reach underneath the one 009 sat upon. His hands emerged with a few belongings: a sweatshirt, one shoe, and an old backpack. He tossed these forgotten items in the direction of his closet, although they fell short of full entry.

“If you hear anyone come upstairs, hide under here,” he spoke again, confidence in his own scheme restored.

She gave him an inquisitive look. “Under the bed?” she questioned.

“Yes. I would tell you to hide in the closet but if she comes into my room she is probably putting clothes away in there. So, if you hear anything just go under the bed. There’s lots of room, it’s not that bad, and you probably won’t even have to. My mom doesn’t come in my room that much.” That much. To her, that sounded like a game of chance she didn’t care to participate in, but she complied nonetheless as she was grateful for anywhere to hide.

“Okay, under the bed.”

A procedure ready to be followed, spoken and memorized through one conversation.

“Oh, shit,” Steve exclaimed softly, mostly to himself. Standing from his place on the floor, he moved to find the door handle. With a small click, he locked it. The girl watched this action as he performed it much to her consternation. He began to settle himself again but was not able to completely do so without noticing her concern. “Oh, I-,” he started, “I’m not locking you in, I just don’t want my parents walking in here while we’re asleep. You can just turn that small lock on the knob to the right and it will unlock.” He explained this, his tone benevolent. She was appreciative of this clarification, and filed his thoughtful instructions away in her head for possible future reference. A smile was offered in response.

A few minutes passed, the lights no longer illuminating the entire room. Steve’s thoughtful nature did not end with the door lock however, as he left his desk lamp on to rid the girl of any worries pure darkness may have brought. They laid in their respective beds, 009 tucked under Steve’s own comforter that smelled pleasantly of him. It was a strange occurrence for her - sleeping in a bed that smelled of someone else. The scent became comforting; it served as a reminder that she was not sleeping in the same bed she had been in all of one night ago. She was not at the lab. “Hey, Steve?” she was ready to give him the thank-you she intended to give him earlier. He didn’t pause long before offering her a small hmm? to let her know he was listening, but long enough to take recognition of her first use of his name.

“Thank you”.

---

“Shit, where the hell- Are you kidding me I just- shit.” Steve’s thoughts dropped out of his mouth, loudly enough to wake up 009. She sat up quickly, a small gasp leaving her mouth; a gasp she hoped Steve didn’t hear once she realized where she was. Terror was still engraved into her mind, and it would take more than one night of sleeping safely for her to rid herself of this feeling. It had become her daily ritual to fear whomever she would face first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hey. Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up. Have you seen my- what the hell am I saying no you haven’t seen my backp- wait it’s in the car. Right?” He now spoke with a whisper to his tone. As opposed to last night, they were not entirely alone anymore. His parents were now home, and he couldn’t be heard talking to a person they weren’t supposed to know was there.

“Hey yesterday - in the car - did you happen to see a backpack in there?” She blinked a few times in substitution for a response. She had not yet fully returned to Steve’s bedroom from her state of sleep, or from her morning delusion that landed her momentarily in the lab. “I- I don’t know,” She now responded, but her answer did not help him any more than her silence had.

“Shit, well, I hope it’s in there.” He gave up on his bedroom search and now passed his attention to the task of putting on his shoes. “I’ll be back in a few hours, by 3:00, okay? There's a clock on my nightstand so you will know what time it is. And uh, remember your hiding spot if you hear anyone coming upstairs.” He told her these things with quickness to his words. She heard every one though, and chose to say “okay,” when she realized he was focused on tying his shoes and would not see her nod her head ‘yes’.

He now stood from the place he had been crouching on the floor. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He seemed averse to leaving her sitting neatly atop his bed. For a second he pondered who would be more questioning: his mother after finding her in his bedroom, or Hawkins High’s staff and students if they saw her following him through a day of school like a service dog. While the second option allowed him to stay by her side, number one presented itself as the best choice if she were to be discovered. This time she nodded to his farewell, an addition of her own voice leaving a “goodbye” at the gesture’s tail end. He smiled at her, a comforting gesture. Opening the door, he slid his body between the small area of room he left open for his departure. He did not even chance fully opening the door, for someone could be in the hallway. Her responsive smile faded as the door drew closed, and she sat unmoving where he had left her.

While he had originally told her that she could sleep the entire time he was away, she now thought that to be a bad idea since the conversation of someone walking in on her. Why couldn’t she just lock the door? She guessed it would arise too many questions, or just be entered anyway (using a key) without the repellent of a sleeping boy behind it. His family was polite enough not to disturb a resting person. The idea of family sat at the top of her mind, asking her who she could claim to be her own. She refused to answer that question, even to her own brain, recognizing the truth was not a single person. Instead she glanced to his nightstand, where his promised clock sat. 7:09 it read. She thought of getting up to explore his bedroom, the concept of privacy something she was without experience with, but told herself that she shouldn’t move. Moving produced sound, and she didn’t want to have to retreat to the underside of the bed she laid upon.

She settled on exploring with her eyes. His room was simple, the bed she sat upon was the centerpiece. The walls were covered with a white plaid wallpaper, and the curtains that hung in front of the window were patterned to match. The sun was already poking through the blinds, but she did not wish to close the curtains and mask the pale light. On the wall to her left was a poster that read The Smiths. Centered underneath it was a dresser, various items scattered across the top - a hair comb, a few tapes with names like Queen and Joy Division scribbled with slanted writing across the front, and a silver stereo to play said tapes on. She pulled the comforter up to her nose and sank a little - making sure that she could still see the gap under the door that provided half an inch of sight into the hallway. That half inch was going to be watched carefully, as if it could really give her significant insight as to what was going on through to the other side of it. She knew that if someone were to walk in right now, she would be fully visible, but tucked under the covers she still felt safer. Maybe part of it was that reassuring scent of the comforter.

---

2:32. The lock was still climbing to 3, but was now only 28 minutes away. Having abandoned the heat of the covers, the hiding girl who had remained in Steve’s bedroom all day sat cross-legged where she had slept that night. Twenty-eight minutes left, meaning that seven hours and thirty-two minutes had passed where she had not been disturbed. A soft beat: feet on carpeted stairs. A sound perhaps easy to miss if you were not waiting to hear it all day. Number nine heard it, and moved from her place on his bed for the first time that day. She pressed herself onto the floor quickly, using her hands to push herself under the bedskirt of the mattress frame. The sound came to a stop, soon replaced by the noise of a creaking door. She swore the door had not been that loud when Steve had left his morning. Becoming suddenly aware of her breathe, she began to hold it in her lungs. She doesn’t come into my room that much. Steve’s promise was now disproven, or perhaps today was the occurrence that had prohibited him from telling her that his mother did not come into his room at all.

Her hands were pressed to the floor in front of her, sure to be imprinted with marks of the carpet’s texture when she drew them away. She heard another door slide open - the closet. She mentally thanked Steve for choosing her hiding spot with consideration. How long would his mother be? The underside of a bed was no place to stay for the remaining 28 minutes. Perhaps it was closer to 25 now. From under the bed, she scooted backwards until her feet touched the wall. She wanted to be as far away as possible from the woman who threatened her discovery. Her discovery and likely return to the lab. More footsteps were heard now, but these were quick and heavy, someone besides his mom. They entered the room with haste, and the sound of the door hitting the back of Steve’s bedroom wall made 009 flinch. Was it his dad, was he home too? Under the bed, the girl closed her eyes. She had already stopped breathing and hoped that eliminating her sense of sight would somehow eliminate theirs too. A voice broke from the panicked entry. “Mom, hey! What-a- what are you doing?” It was Steve. Home 24 minutes early.

“I was just putting some stuff from downstairs back in your room, why? Is everything okay?” the voice without a face questioned. “Yeah! Yeah everything’s fine, I just have this uh-” Steve stumbled over his own words, trying to spit them out quickly so that he could check the underneath of his bed for the person he worried greatly about. The room looked just how he had left it, aside from her absence. For a second he questioned whether she was under the bed or gone completely. “I have this project I have to finish for tomorrow and I really need to hurry.” A weak lie, he would admit that, but one fitting of a teenager, and one his mother would eat up without question. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair,” she told him. With that last sentence, the soft beat of her steps resumed as she left the room. The door closed again - most likely Steve’s doing considering the amount of force recognizably used to do so. 009 did not move from under the bed, even with her confident suspicion that he was now the only person besides her in the room. “Nine?” he asked in a whisper, a whisper even softer than the one he had utilized this morning. He bent down, lifting the bedskirt a little too rapidly for her comfort. She flinched again. He sighed. “Oh thank fuck, are you okay?” She turned her head to him, meeting his eye with a look of unease. “It’s safe now,” he told her. He reached out a hand, offering her removal from her place of concealment. She took it; an act of trust in the person who eliminated the threat. She was pulled from the narrow opening beneath the bed frame, her feet leaving their place against the wall. Now she was able to stand, and let out her own sigh once she did.

“I’m so sorry, I came home as soon as possible. The traffic in the parking lot was just really bad and- I’m sorry I really didn’t think she would come up here.” He finished his hurried apology, getting it out quickly as if she would retreat back into her place of hiding if he were not fast enough. He turned around to pick up the plate he had abandoned atop his set of drawers during his panic. “Here, I brought you another sandwich,” he told her. The sound of glass leaving a wooden surface rang in the air as he lifted it to give to her. He smiled at her, a look of sincere apology. Her own face dropped the slightly hostile expression and picked up a smile of her own. “Thank you,” she said.

They both sat on his bed now, herself tearing the sandwich into smaller bites and him offering her conversation after hours of silence and seclusion. His explanation of his day fell to a conclusion. Hearing of a normal teenager’s life was both compelling and saddening to Nine. “Do you want to go out?” he decided to present her with a question. “Like to the store? We can buy you some things. You know, like necessities. Your own toothbrush, deodorant, things like that?” An afternoon out of his bedroom, appealing at first thought, but dangerous after a second. “What if someone sees me? They’re probably looking for me, it’s too unsafe,” she reminded him. It was like he had forgotten she was a fugitive. His expression abandoned delight and met dissatisfaction. “Shit,” his response was simple. They sat for another moment, her fingers fiddling with the crust of the wheat bread. “Wait,” he told her. He returned to the place where his mother had been earlier, peering into his closet. He removed from inside a hat, one with a thick brim. “You can wear this! I also have a pair of sunglasses in my car, they will cover your face. Plus you will be in my clothes so nobody will recognize you, right?” His tone was hopeful again. A promise he couldn’t make, but one he was confident in.

She pondered his proposal. It was not the best, certainly, but it was also one that her strong desire to leave the house made hard to shoot down. A hat and sunglasses. Was that all it would really take to keep her safe? Her eyes looked over the hat, studying the object she considered putting her complete faith in to protect her identity. Her eyes then traveled to Steve’s face. It wore a look of both longing and optimism. It made her trust him and his stupid plan a little bit more. “Okay,” she spoke up. “Let’s go.” The underside of her teeth met her bottom lip and she pulled it in to present him with a close-mouthed smile. He returned one, and added a laugh. He took a few paces forward, and extended his hand that held the hat. He watched her face, careful to only make contact if she was comfortable. Gently, he placed the hat on top of her head and smiled down at her. “I don’t even recognize you,” he told her jokingly.

#steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve x reader #st3 #ST fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things requests #steve harrington series #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #SCOOPS TROOP #robin #steve

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justsmilestuffhappens · 5 years ago

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6 Secret Santa / Gifts

Secret Santa Switch

The ever important Secret Santa game was back. It'd been skipped last year but was now back with a vengeance.

Anything could top buck's first here where he'd been given socks with condoms in them. Jenkins had said it was to keep him warm and safe that holiday season.

Buck just hoped he got someone he had a good idea about this year. Even if he didn't he'd do his best to find insight and snatch them a great gift.

This year he'd gotten Davis. He knew a little about them but not as much as the others they was closer too. From what Cooper said they liked fishing yeah but also they'd taken up gardening with their spouse recently.

It was a no brainer to get them a nice new lure that was an imitation of a flowering plant Buck saw in the picture he'd been shown.

He hoped whoever got him put in the same effort but either way he'd still be sure to thank them. No one didn't try really nowadays.

It came to the night and Buck sat next to Eddie after they'd had dinner.

For a second he'd hoped Eddie was his Secret Santa but unless he'd asked buck for help as a way of misdirecting he was thinking it was Hen or Bobby that Eddie had gotten from what he asked him.

He'd looked up from watching Eddie to see Davis gaping at the lure. It filled him with pride to see how happy they were.

"Who was it?" They'd asked picking it up and spinning it around to look at it from every angle.

Maddie sitting beside Athena called it out since Buck took too long. She was writing down who declared having gotten what but some wanted to remain anonymous.

"It was Buck. I guess you like it?" She asked with a smile.

"It's perfect Buck. Can't wait to test it out first chance I get. Thank you"

There was a murmured "why do they get to be one of the lucky ones this year." From one of the others but before buck can look over to see who said it Eddie's bumping him softly causing buck to look over and see him smiling and nodding.

"Buck you're up next." Athena said checking the list for who'd still needed to open theirs.

Buck's box was kinda big and a little heavy. Whatever was inside of it was moving while he picked it up.

Upon unwrapping and opening it he was greeted by-

"Rocks?" Buck asked frowning at his gift. No wait they were-

"Whoever gave this boy coal, I'm watching you." Athena warned as Buck closed his gift.

Maddie's smile faltered.

"Umm. Who's next?" Buck tried laughing while wanting to get this over with.

Eddie looked sympathetic as Buck lowered the box.

"Eddie its you then Sam." Athena announced.

Eddie picked up his and quickly unwrapped it not once but twice make that three times.

It was some drink mixes and liquors? Huh?

Hen came over from getting a drink refill with Karen and Chim.

"Eddie why are you opening Buck's gift?" She asked while looking at what she'd gotten him in Eddie's hands.

"What?" Eddie saw Buck lean down to pick up the tag.

"You got me too?" He asked Hen while showing Eddie that it read Buck's Secret Santa.

"What do you mean too?" Karen asked with her arm around Hen.

Buck pulled out his big box and showed them.

"Hold on a minute. So no one got Eddie but two people got buck?" Athena asked as Bobby got up and walked over.

"How did that happen?" He asked looking around.

"Ha. Did you like it buck?" Chimney asked looking at the box.

"You!? You got me coal?" Buck asked confused.

"Well yeah." Chimney said earning a gasp from Maddie. so she didn't know then?

Athena offered an "excuse you" as Bobby looked skeptical of things.

"Not just that. So you didn't look at the bottom then. Huh?" Chimney asked coming over.

"Sure you can be a pain in the butt once in a while, so can all of us buddy. I only meant it as a joke. We wouldn't have you any other way. Merry Christmas Buck."

Buck rummaged under the coal bits to find a large black envelope with another white one inside.

"Tickets to a game?" Buck smiled.

"The team you keep talking about watching. The way you look while you talk about game night I knew it'd be a good gift." Chimney said smiling as Buck blushed.

"Uh. Thanks Chimney. It'll be cool going in person." With Eddie and Christopher he didn't say. "Sorry I thought it was just the coal."

"Nah. I wouldn't do that to my old roomie." Chimney shrugged.

"My gift was more so I could see those hidden skills you had as a bartender. Only this time you'd be drinking with us at your place instead of sneaking it on the clock. if you did that back then." Hen said taking another sip of her drink.

"Now I feel bad for Eddie." Bobby said looking at the team.

"Should I tell them?" Eddie asked looking at Buck.

"Chim I'm glad you got the tickets but the team I keep talking about is Eddie's favorite not mine." Buck laughed.

"Oh!" Chimney said thinking about it that made more sense than buck abandoning his old favorite. He was nothing if not loyal. "I was thinking of Maddie and the two of us but Christopher and you two could go." Chimney guessed as Maddie smiled at the turn of events.

"So someone did get Eddie a gift. Even if it was unintentional." Bobby noted while putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"Chimney you're lucky that wasn't all you gave." Athena said coming over to bat at his arm.

"What'd I miss?" He asked rubbing his arm in fake hurt.

"She sort of threatened whoever gave buck coal but that was before we knew about the actual gift." Maddie explained.

As everyone was cleaning before leaving Eddie came over to Buck who was throwing trash into a garbage bag.

"Need some help?"

"No. Don't worry. You can head out Eds."

He was already grabbing what few drinks and dessert plates were around. It wasn't that much.

"I'm glad you didn't get left out." Buck said tying the bag off and putting it in a corner for a second.

"Well I look forward to seeing your sweet bartending skills. Might need to bring some more supplies for you to make on New Year's though." Eddie laughed while buck came to stare at him.

"So about the game. Uh. Has Christopher ever gone to one?" Buck rubbed the back of his neck.

"I think so. But this will be the first with his Buck. I'm sure he'll find it fun at least until near very end. We can leave early and get something for him." Eddie suggested.

"It's a date. I mean-" buck said.

"I don't want to wait till next year for a date if that's okay with you." Eddie pulled buck away from where the others still there could see.

"Uh. I'd be okay with doing anything as long as it's with you." Buck leaned in but stopped.

Eddie closed the distance between them to kiss buck so slow and soft, like he was trying to draw it out enjoying every second.

"Don't you gotta pick up Chris already?"

"Yeah. Wanna come over with me. I'm sure he'll love hearing about you going to a game with us next year."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. Count me in." Buck said picking up the trash.

Eddie waited for buck to follow him downstairs.

Neither of them noticed the pair of eyes watching them hold hands as they went to go outside.

"About time." They said.

Buck was in Eddie's passenger seat now as they went to pick up Chris.

"I still don't get how I was in the hat twice."

Eddie laughed.

"Wait it was you?"

"I wrote your name instead of mine but when I saw a gift under my seat I thought someone fixed it. Turns out I still got a gift even if I already would have had what I wanted either way."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. You deserve all the gifts you could want. Plus I've still got something up my sleeve."

"What's that?" Buck asked leaning to look Eddie in the eyes at a red light.

"You'll have to wait and find out." Eddie said smiling.

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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1. When was the last time someone saw you naked? No one does.

2. If you could bring someone back from the dead and spend an hour with them, who would it be and what would you do/say? My grandmother. I’d just love to be able to spend some time with her again, hear her voice and her laugh, hug her, and tell her I love her.

3. What is the greatest loss you’ve endured? Losing my maternal grandparents and my dog, Brandie, to name a few.

4. How would you describe your current mood? I’m having a flare up and I’m tired.

5. When was the last time you did something you were embarrassed by? Who knows. That’s not an uncommon occurrence.

6. What was the last thing you lied about? I don’t recall.

7. Where is your favorite place to have sex? Virgin here, but I’m pretty sure a bed would be perfectly fine.

8. What is your earliest memory? I have some vague memories of preschool.

9. Do you ever drink or get high alone? No. Or at all anymore.

10. What type of a drunk are you? I feel like it made me annoying and chatty. I also ended up feeling sad and lonely later on.

11. What song (or a few songs, whatever) means a lot to you and why? There’s several.

12. When was the last time you revealed your feelings for someone? Were they accepted or rejected? A few years ago when I told Ty how I felt. He told me liked me, too. Nothing ever came of it, though.

13. What was the reason behind your last visit to the hospital? When a friend was in the hospital a few years ago.

14. How do you tend to deal with a breakup? I go through the motions.

15. What is the “worst” drug you’ve done? Are there any you will never try, or any you want to try? I’ve only smoked weed. That’s the only thing I’ll ever do.

16. What is something you’ve done that you truly regret? I have a lot of those...

17. What does it mean to you to be a good person? Do you feel you are a good person? So, according to some Google searches here are a few qualities of a good person: Honest, empathetic, loyal, cooperation (works well with others), authenticity, creativity (in the sense that you’re openminded and think outside the box, creative in coming up with solutions), passionate (do things wholeheartedly, give it your all), resilience, sensitive (compassionate and sensitive towards the feelings, struggles, and needs of others), and insight. Based on this, I think I possess some of these qualities and fall short/lack others.

18. What is your philosophy on life/how do you generally choose to live or conduct yourself? I just...keep going.

19. Do you view animals as being just as important as people? Why or why not? My pets are family. As far as other animals, while I’m not a vegetarian or vegan, I still believe they should be treated in a humane way and with compassion. There’s no reason to be cruel, such as abusing them or keeping them in harsh conditions.

20. When was the last time you were up all night and why? For most of this year I haven’t been going to bed until like 7 or 8AM. On a few occasions it was a little later or I ended up staying up the whole day somehow. I don’t know wth is wrong with my sleep schedule, but it’s really off track. For someone who is always tired, I sure don’t sleep very much.

21. What is the worst thing you’ve done to yourself? What is the worst thing someone else has done to you? Neglect myself and ignore things, not take care of myself like I should. I’ve caused a lot of problems that way. As for someone else... use me, play with my emotions, made me feel like trash.

22. What is the most personal thing you’re willing to reveal? I don’t know. I share a lot in these surveys.

23. What made you stop talking to the last person you cut out of your life? I was/am a mess and pushed everyone away, completely withdrawing and distancing myself. I just cut myself off from everyone outside of my family. I’m not even close with cousins that I was very close with throughout my life anymore.

24. Is there a situation or person you haven’t been able to get over/forgive? I dwell a lot on my mistakes and regrets. I’m harsh and unforgiving towards myself.

25. Who was the last person to yell at you? Did you yell back? No one yells at me.

26. Where did your last injury come from? It’s been awhile since I’ve had any injuries. Not any new ones, anyway.

27. What are some kinks or turn-ons you have, if any? I don’t have the experience to really know, but I feel like I’d be super bland haha.

28. What are you like during arguments? I shut down pretty quickly.

29. What is the worst thing you have said to another person? Probably not saying anything at all and completely ghosting my friends who totally did nothing to deserve it.

30. Where do you like to be kissed? Lips and neck.

31. What is more difficult for you, looking into someones eyes when you are telling someone how you feel, or looking into someones eyes when they are telling you how they feel? Looking people in the eye, especially during serious conversations, is really hard for me. I give eye contact, but I look away or down and fidget with my fingers or something in my hand. I also have a very hard time expressing myself well.

32. Think of the last time you were REALLY angry. WHY were you angry? Do you still feel the same way? Blehhh.

33. You are on a flight from Honolulu to Chicago non-stop. There is a fire in the back of the plane. You have enough time to make ONE phone call. Who do you call? What do you tell them? My mom. I’d tell her I love her and to tell the rest of my family I love them, too.

34. You are at the doctor’s office and he has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? What do you do with your remaining days? Would you be afraid? My parents and brother would definitely know. I don’t know how I’d go about telling other family members. I would be an absolute mess, but I’d spend all that time with my loved ones, sharing memories, telling them how much I love them, thanking them, telling them anything else I want to say to them. I’d also be doing a lot of praying.

35. You can have one of the following two things. Which do you choose? Why? Uh, what are the choices?

36. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late even once more, you are fired. Do you take the time to save the dogs life? Why or Why not? I absolutely would. I can’t swim myself, but I’d try to find help and call 911. I’d make sure they were rescued.

37. Would you rather be hurt by the one you trust the most or the one you love the most? Uh, I’d rather not be hurt by anyone if possible.

38. Your best friend confesses that he/she has feelings for you more than just friendship. He/she is falling in love with you. What do you (or did you) do/say? My best friend is my mom...

39. Think of the last person who you know that died. You have the chance to give them 1 hour of life back, but you have to give up one year of yours. Do you do it? Why or Why not? Can they have more than just an hour?

40. Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend? No.

41. Does love = sex? Not always.

42.Your boss tells your coworker that they have to let them go because of work shortage, and they are the newest employee. You have been there much longer. Your coworker has a family to support and no other means of income. Do you go to your boss and offer to leave the company? Why or Why not? I mean, as of now I still with my family so if that were still the case in this scenario, then I’d be okay because I’m fortunate that my family can provide the necessities. I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to afford food and things like that. I don’t have kids to worry about either like this person does. I also receive disability. In other words, I would be okay and be able to look for something else in the meantime if need be.

43.When was the last time you told someone HONESTLY how you felt regardless of how difficult it was for you to say? Who was it? What did you have to tell the person? I had a serious conversation not too long ago with my mom with some things I was struggling with. It’s difficult for me to express myself and how I’m feeling with anyone, no matter how close I am to them. I just struggle with what to say. I feel like I don’t explain or get my point across very well. I also don’t like the focus and attention one. I don’t like discussing serious things about myself. I also don’t want to burden people with my problems or worry them. I downplay things or keep a lot to myself, so for me to open up like that it takes a lot.

44. What would be (or what was) harder for you to tell a member of the opposite sex, you love them or that you do not love them back? Telling them I love them, but telling them I don’t would be hard as well because I certainly don’t want to hurt anyone.

45. What do you think would be the hardest thing for you to give up? Why would it be hard to lose? I’m gonna go with something not so deep and serious and say coffee. I really do need my coffee, though. I don’t want to have to go without it.

46. Excluding romantic love, when was the last time you told someone you loved them. Who were they to you? My mom.

47. If there was one moment and one time in the last month what would you change and why? How my doctor appointment went last month. I had to meet with a new doctor who I don’t like and I wish the appointment went better. I wish I was able to express myself and explain things better, but I just felt intimidated and uncomfortable. I thought of a lot of things I wanted to say after the fact. I wish I could be a little more assertive.

48.Imagine it is a dark night, you are alone, it is raining outside, you hear someone walking around outside your window. WHO do you wish was there with you? Good thing I’m never alone at night cause I’d be freaking out to say the least. Good thing I have a dog, too. In this hypothetical situation, though, I’m not sure why my family isn’t here, but I’d be calling 911 and my family right away.

49. Would you give a homeless person CPR if they were dying? Why or Why not? I don’t know CPR. I would try to get them help right away and call 911.

50.You are holding onto your grandmother’s hand and the hand of a newborn that you do not know as they hang over the edge of a cliff. You have to let one go to save the other. Who do you let fall to their death? What was your rationale for making the decision? I hate these questions.

51. Are you old fashioned? In some ways.

52. When was the last time you were nice to someone and did NOT expect anything in return for it? I like doing things for people because I want to.

53.Which would you choose, true love with a guarantee of a broken heart, or never loved at all? Why? True love.

54.If you could do anything or wish anything, what would it be? I’d have good health.

55. What was the last thing you ate? Ramen.

56. What kind of guys are you usually attracted to? Personality is the most important thing.

57. What’s the stupidest thing that’s happened to you that ended a friendship? Some middle school drama.

58. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve had sex for?

59. What reality shows do you watch? Catfish, The Voice, Teen Mom OG, Teen Mom 2, KUWTK, Total Bellas...

60. Post a video of yourself here: No.

61. Where do you work? I don’t.

62. Have you ever gone up to a car thinking it was yours and tried to get in it? I’ve gone up to cars thinking it was mine and reached for the handle, but thankfully quickly realized it wasn’t my car. lol.

63. Where do you buy most of your clothes? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

64. If you were very intelligent and had the capability to have any profession, what would you like to be? I don’t know.

65. What’s your most irrational fear? I have plenty.

66. How many radio stations do you listen to? It’s been a few years since I’ve listened to the radio. I only listen to Spotify for music, even in the car.

67. What kind of music do they have?

68. Would you rather go to Greece or Hawaii? I mean, both would be amazing.

69. Musicals: Yay or Nay? I like some of them.

70. What are the next concerts you’ll be going to? Who knows or even when that’ll be an option given the state of things. I miss going to concerts, though. It’s been over 10 years since my last concert.

71. What was the last conversation you had with your best friend about? About the episode of Ratched we had just finished watching last night.

72. Are you one of those people that LOVE to hug others? No. Not to say I don’t like hugs, though. However, I know people who hug everyone, even if they’ve just met, and that’s not me.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survery

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goodproofingwater · 6 years ago

Text

Covet - KJ Apa x Reader (ft. Jordan Connor)

Word count: 2650

Requested by: @andwizzlev

Warnings: swear, implied bondage fetish, alcohol abuse

You had been working on Riverdale as a runner for three months now and you were loving it. It had been hard work and you had had to get used to the fact that you had to do every little thing that was asked of you right away, but being on a set was well worth it. You were lucky that the group of people that you were assigned to, the lead four, were very chill and often didn’t ask you to do anything. They would offer to come with you to get coffee, make sure that you had food for yourself, would invite you to lunch with them. All in all, it was like being a personal assistant to your friends, and while that sounded whack it was actually quite fun.

You were sitting in Lili’s trailer watching a movie when Cami poked her head in and let Lili know that she had a scene. This also meant that you had to be on set with her, and so the two of you made your way to the Pops set for Lili’s scene with Cole. It was always fun watching them work together, the fact that they were a couple in real life leaking into their scenes in the best way.

“They’re great aren’t they?” The kiwi accent made you jump and you had to hold you hand over your mouth so you didnt ruin the scene.

“Oh my God KJ you can’t just sneak up on me like that!” You grinned and he smirked at you,

“Sorry babe, forgot how jumpy you are.”

KJ had been the first person that you met on set, and the first person you had looked after. He was even more chill than the rest of them, the New Zealand attitude meaning that he barely even treated you as a colleague, more like another star of the show or an old friend. He had been the first to ask you to hang out outside of the set, the five of you going to a small bar in downtown vancouver where KJ had played a little guitar on stage, and he remained the person that you were closest to. It helped that you found him outstandingly attractive, but you tried your best not to let that get in the way of your work of your friendship. Tried being the optimum word. There had been many occasions where you had been drunk in a bar and had ended up almost kissing him or had his hand grazing your thigh as you sat on barstools, but you both knew you needed to remain professional.

“I’m only jumpy when someone comes up behind me with no warning…” You grinned and he raised his eyebrows,

“Well, I’m sorry..” He whispered, “I’ll make sure to give you a heads up before I get all up close and personal with ya..” His eyes darted from your own to your lips momentarily, and you felt the lust wash over your eyes as you bit down on your lip. Luckily, one of the other runners called him for a scene.

That evening was much like the others when they had night shoots, sitting around drinking coffee and playing games to keep the energy up. You circled the group that was there, this time consisting of Cami, Charles, KJ, Cole and Jordan and passed them all fresh cups of coffee before you sat down next to Jordan and sipped your own.

“I don’t think we’ve properly been introduced.” Jordan spoke after he thanked you for your coffee, “I’m Jordan.”

“I know..” You chuckled but you felt it come out a little more girlish than you intended to, and the dark smirk on his features told you everything that you needed to know, “I mean, I’ve worked on the set for three months and I’ve seen you do scenes with Cole.”

“Three months huh?” He sipped his coffee, eyes running over your body and down your bare legs, “You would think I would have noticed you before now.”

“Well, I do like to keep myself hidden away.” You joked, “They only let me out of the trailer if Cole, Lili, Cami or KJ want anything”

“Keep you tied up in there otherwise?” He grinned, the look in his eyes making your thighs clench together but you played it off with a chuckle,

“I.. Something like that.” You licked your lips and he nodded, sitting back in his chair for only a moment before him and Cole were called to set.

“You better be coming for a drink later,” He spoke more at you than to you as he pulled his Sweet-Pea jacket on, “I want to hear more about you being tied up.” He winked and you bit you lip as you let out a chuckle.

Your eyes followed him from the trailer, and as you licked your lips absentmindedly your gaze fell to KJ. He was talking to Cami, but his eyes were flitting towards you every now and then until he noticed you meet his gaze, his brow furrowed as he sipped his coffee.

Later that evening, the six of you crammed into a cab and made your way to one of the bars in town, the actors and yourself desperate for something to take the edge off a long shift. The directors always advised that you all go home and sleep, but it never worked out that way. Of course ,there were shifts that were sometimes 16 hours long and would mean that you would go home and sleep right away, but over a 7 or 8 hour night shoot that finished at 3am, it seemed rude not to go to down and get into some trouble.

The bar was busy but not rammed, everyone already suitably drunk as you ordered a round of drinks as the others found a table.

“I’ll get these,” You felt a hand on the small of your back and smiled as you turned to see Jordan handing over his card to the bartender.

“You didn’t have to do that, i’ll just get another round later.” You spoke, placing the drinks that had already been made on the tray as you waited for the others

“Nah, tonight’s on me.” He spoke, sipping his whiskey and coke, “As long as you give me a little insight into you being tied up in a trailer.” He smirked, and you shook your head.

“I don’t actually get tied up in a trailer Jordan..” You chuckled and he looked into your eyes with pupils full to the brim with lust.

“Would you like to be?” The offer caused your lips to part, a sharp exhale falling from them and his smirk grew even wider, “I mean.. If you’re into it I’m sure I could…”

Before he completed his sentence, KJ was reaching for his pint from the bar.

“Want me to get this one?” KJ spoke, and your eyes moved from the raven haired man to the redhead, swallowing thickly as you shook your head,

“Uhh, no it’s fine, Jordan has already got it..” You spoke, grabbing your own whiskey and coke and thanking the bartender as he placed the last of the drinks on the tray. KJ immediately picked up the tray for you and the three of you made your way over to the group, Jordans hand on your back sending a spark of arousal through you that you didn’t expect. You were being truthful when you said that you had been around when Jordan had been there before, but you had never really had an attraction to him. Something about the way he was looking at you though…

“You gonna get up and give us a show this time?” You smiled at KJ, his devastating smile running through you. God what you would have given to close the gap between the two of you. You hated that you had set this boundry, that the two of you had the unspoken rule that nothing would happen because of work. Maybe that’s why you were so quick to be interested in Jordan? He wasn’t unattractive in anyway, and he spoke directly to one of your kinks, but he also wasn’t afraid to overstep the line. You couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Nah babe, thought i’d take a night off..” He licked his lips, swallowing some more beer before he looked back at you. “Feel like getting up there?”

He nodded toward the stage and you chuckled, shaking your head. “Private shows only, I’m afraid.”

The words fell from your lips before you could catch them, before you could hear just how dirty they sounded. His eyes darkened and he let out a sigh, licking his lips before he drunk more of his pint.

“Lets get some shots.” He settled with, and you nodded, walking with him to the bar. You could feel Jordans eyes on you as you walked away, and you sent a quick wink at him over your shoulder before you leaned on the bar next to KJ. He ordered a tray of shots for the group, and an extra for the two of you, and as he watched the Bartender pour the tequila he let out a sigh as if he didn’t want to say what came next.

“Are you and Jordan gonna fuck?” The words were so blunt that you felt physically taken aback, and you let out a small laugh before he turned to look at you, only a hint of a smile on his features.

“I..um..I only just met him..” You spoke, not wanting to give a direct answer because honestly, you didn’t even know yourself. You hadn’t intended on going home with him, but if he kept talking to you about tying you up…

“Don’t.” He spoke, shaking his head, “I mean..ugh.” He groaned in frustration and shook his head, “Do what you want..”

“KJ..” You spoke and he stood back, letting out a deep sigh, fingers tapping furiously at the bar top as he watched the bartender place the last of the shots on the tray. He went to pick them up and you grabbed his wrist, stilling him and forcing his eyes to meet yours. “Why don’t you want me to fuck him?”

You had your suspicions, knew that KJ wanted you but didn’t want to cross the line, but you wanted to hear it from him. You needed confirmation that you were right.

“It’s fine, do what you want” He shook his head and moved his wrist from your grip, bringing the tray back over to the table and taking a shot before anyone else even had the chance to pick it up. Well, if he wasn’t going to admit it then you weren’t going to hold back.

Instead of moving to sit next to him as you had been, you took the stool next to Jordan and passed him a shot with dark eyes. He licked his lips as he watched you take your own from the tray, dipping his lips to your ear to whisper, “Can’t I do this shot off of you instead?”

You bit your lip and shook your head with a giggle, licking your own lips as he placed a kiss to your cheek, “Later then..”

A shiver ran through you at his tone, and you held up your shot with everyone else, knocking it back and picking up a lime to suck on to stop the burn.

Four shots later and you found your head bent back, Jordan licking salt from your neck before taking another shot and sucking the lime from your lips. You giggled as he did so, his hand on your thigh and the sheer amount of alcohol pulling you further and further into arousal.

“You ready for me to take you home yet?” He smirked, nipping at your ear softly, “I’ve got some handcuffs with your name on them.” A soft moan escaped your lips and he gripped your thigh harder at the sound, your nose running along his own before you felt yourself being pulled to the dancefloor.

Cami swung her arms around you as you danced to Dua Lipa, the music in the club pumping more now that it was getting even later, at least it felt that way. The group had gotten very drunk, very quickly, and although you were having a good time being seduced by Jordan, you weren’t ready to go home yet. It was also totally against everything that you had done before to go home with someone you had just met, especially when you worked together. It would be one thing to go home with Jordan and have to awkwardly work together after a one night stand, and a totally different thing to go home with KJ who you had been dancing around for months.

God how you wished that he would just tell you what he wanted. The two of you had drawn this line so thick that you didn’t know if it was okay to cross it, didn’t know when it was okay to defy convention.

When you felt strong arms around you, you had expected to feel Jordans lips on your neck again. Instead, KJs arms wrapped around your waist as you danced between him and Cami, the dance only broken as Charles twisted her into his arms.

You turned yourself, smiling as you wrapped your arms around KJs neck as you had so many times before, your bodies moving in sync to music almost identical to the last time you almost kissed.

“Don’t fuck him, babe..” KJ spoke, biting his lip, alcohol running through his veins and allowing him to speak his mind.

“Why?” You whispered, looking up at him with innocent features and his head ducked to run his nose along your own.

“You know why..” Your breath caught in your throat as he stood so close, his hands moving down to grip your ass and you bit down on your lip.

“Tell me, KJ..” You whispered, and he let out a sigh, licking his lips and shaking his head. “Well.. if you can’t even say it..”

You broke away from him, moving back over to the table where Jordan still sat, cutting off his conversation with Cole. You took another shot from the table before you straddled him, taking his face in your hands as you kissed him fiercely. Cole raised his eyebrows and looked up at KJ who was standing there in disbelief, the brunette laughing at what was going on right next to him.

Jordans hands moved to your ass, gripping you hard and pulling you down onto him with a moan. Before you could run your fingers through raven hair, you felt a hand grip your arm and pull you away from the crowd.

KJs body pressed you against a wall, holding your arms above your head as he looked down at you with anger in his eyes.

“What the fuck, KJ?” you spoke, anger running through you,

“I fucking like you, okay?” He snapped, “I don’t want you to fuck him because I like you. I want.. I wanna date you.” Drunken syllables stumbled over each other, his accent like music to your ears as he said the words you had been waiting to hear all evening.

“Well why didn’t you just say so?” You smiled, pulling your hands from him to wrap around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

“I thought you wouldn’t get involved with someone from work… I thought that’s why you never.. Why we never..” You shook your head,

“Shut up and kiss me, idiot.” You grinned against his lips and he matched it, dipping to pick you up by your thighs and press you to the wall as your legs locked around him.

#kj apa #kj apa imagine #archie andrews #archie andrews imagine #riverdale imagine #jordan connor #jordan connor imagine #lauren writes #one shots #culdnt find a good gif for this one wah

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salmonthestoryteller · 5 years ago

Text

Anything For You

Animal Kingdom Fanfic (Post s04e07)

Adrian took a deep breath as he let himself into Smurf's house. Deran hadn't been happy about this part of the plan, not that he was, but in the end they needed to cover up their actions somehow. Pope knew he'd gone to his sister's and Deran had tried to claim he had an affair. No way any of that seemed normal.

"Adrian? Is that you?" He hadn't made it far when an unexpected voice called out.

Adrian stared at the woman who'd come out of the house in confusion. "Angela?"

"Well, look at you all grown up." Angela smiled, coming forward to embrace him.

Adrian knew his return hug was stiff, but he was still reeling from the sight of Julia's old friend. Deran and him clearly still needed to communicate better. "This is a surprise. What are you doing at Smurf's place?"

"Pope's letting me stay here for a bit."

"That's nice of him."

"What about you? Craig and Deran don't live here anymore and I didn't hear about a party."

"I actually wanted to talk to Pope about something. Do you know where he is?"

"Probably his room or the workshop. What gives? Everything okay?" She latched onto his arm as he moved toward the house.

"It's kind of personal."

"And your choice of who to tell your troubles to is Pope? I would think Deran-"

"It's about Deran."

"What about him?"

"Nothing I want to tell you." Adrian gave up on being polite as they made it inside.

"No need to be rude. I was just trying to be a friendly ear."

"Yeah, I remember how that went with you. How the wrong person always seemed to find out the stuff you were a friendly ear for."

"Jesus, is this still about that summer?" Angela crossed her arms. "I would think holding onto teenage grudges was Deran's thing not yours."

Adrian ignored the comment. "Do I need your permission to see Pope or something?"

"No. Of course not."

"Great." He moved further into the house. The conversation with Angela hadn't helped make him less nervous. The door was open and he could see Pope sitting on his bed inside, still as a rock. He knocked anyway.

"What?" He didn't even glance his way.

"Is this a bad time?" Adrian asked.

Pope turned then, confused. "Adrian? Why are you here? Did something happen to Deran?"

He rose to his feet, coming around the bed and Adrian fought down the instinct to step back. "No, I just…" He glanced back, feeling very aware of Angela's presence in the rooms behind them. "Well, actually, I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You still staying at your sister's?"

"No, no. Deran came and we worked things out. Kind of." When Pope said nothing, only looked at him expectantly, Adrian forced himself to keep going. He moved farther into the room as he began to talk. "Look, that night - the night before I went to my sister's - Deran didn't get home until really late and..."

Pope held up a hand, and Adrian instantly trailed off. When he stepped around him to shut the door, he felt himself break into a sweat. "What about that night?" There was something dark in his tone.

"Deran seemed upset like… I don't even know." That was the truth. He still wasn't sure what had upset Deran that night. All Deran had said was tying everything into that night would make this easier.

Pope glanced away, his body tensed before he looked back at him. "What are you asking?"

"I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn't budge. Then he spat out this bullshit about an affair."

Pope relaxed. "An affair? That dumbass. Wait, did you actually believe him?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." He turned away to run his hand through his hair, before turning back. "He left after that and he wouldn't pick up my calls and suddenly I remembered this thing Craig had said-"

"Craig? You're taking relationship advice from Craig? Jesus, you've had a front row seat to his track record." Pope no longer seemed tense, though he was looking at him like he was an idiot. Technically that was the plan, but Adrian found himself crossing his arms over his chest defensively anyhow.

"I just talked myself into going to Jess. That maybe we both needed space. Deran showed up, though, and he said he'd just been mad at my pushing. Said he'd lied about having an affair. He was lying about that, right?"

"Of course he lied about having an affair. You two are living together now - he's not going to screw that up."

Adrian forced his shoulders to lower, and dropped his arms back to his side. As if he'd really been concerned about it. "So why-"

"Look, Adrian, you've been around our family your whole life. Rented from Smurf. And you've been with Deran for a while. You're not stupid." Pope's hand came to rest where his shoulder met his neck and Adrian tried and failed to not tense up. "You should know better than to push Deran for answers he doesn't want to give you." He squeezed slightly, and Adrian couldn't help but swallow nervously.

"I've never seen him like I saw him that night." Those words weren't part of the plan, but they slipped out anyhow. They weren't a lie, either. Deran had been so quiet. There had been such pain in his eyes, even as he told him he loved him...

Pope glanced away, a shadow falling over his face. "Yeah, I know." He turned back to him. "Look, he's going through some shit right now. The last thing he needs is any added stress. So don't fight with him, okay?"

Adrian felt himself nodding, even as the words piled onto the guilt he felt. He was definitely adding to the stress Deran was under. "Okay."

Pope gave his shoulder and neck a squeeze again, before backing away to open the door. Adrian took the hint and headed out of the room, only to be drawn up short by Pope's voice. "Hey, Adrian - has Colby been coming around lately? Bothering Deran?"

"Colby?" Adrian frowned, confused but not worried. If he'd asked about Jack or Ox he would have thought he knew something. But Colby wasn't involved with the drug bust, nor was it him who had been found dead in Mexico and that Pearce was trying to connect to Deran. "I know he dropped by the house a few weeks ago. He and Deran were talking outside, but he didn't stick around."

"Did it look like they were arguing?"

"Things seemed kinda tense, now that you mention it. I offered Colby to come in but Deran kinda shut it down."

Pope nodded as if that was the answer he expected. "Thanks."

"Sure." Confused, but not pushing his luck, Adrian headed for the front gate. Angela was nowhere to be seen, apparently having made herself scarce. At least he didn't have to deal with her twice. He'd thought he would feel relieved this part was over, and seemed to have gone well. He didn't, though. Reassuring Pope nothing was going on was just the start of things. So much could still go wrong.

As if to underline the thought, the front gate opened just as he got there and Smurf entered. The universe hated him, he decided. There was no other explanation.

"Adrian. My son here?"

"Deran isn't here, no. I just… had something to talk to Pope about."

"Really." Smurf studied him. "With Pope?"

Fuck. This wasn't in the plan, but he had to stick to the story. "Deran and I had a fight and I just… I thought Pope might be able to give me some insight."

"You asked Pope for relationship advice?" Smurf sounded doubtful.

"Better than Craig, right?" Adrian offered her. Smurf returned his words with a smile that sat somewhere between annoyed and amused. "It was less relationship advice and more… Cody advice."

"Well, you always could have come to me. Nobody knows my boys better than I do."

"Maybe I'll do that next time." He offered her, and promptly promised himself to never take her up on that particular offer.

"You know, I never would have expected Deran of being the one to settle down first." Smurf mentioned.

"Settle down?" He repeated.

"Well, that's what it looks like. His own business, his own house. You two living together. I saw your laundry basket. You even do laundry together."

"I guess I really didn't think about it in quite those terms." He'd been too busy feeling an unevenness in their relationship. Even before he'd messed things up by letting Jack turn his head with his talk of simple runs and easy money. His own money, not Deran's.

"You know, the only other one of my boys to ever settle down was Baz." Smurf latched onto his arm, and he wondered why everyone was in such a damn touchy mood today. Was it something in the water? "Cath was always so moody though. Never really seemed to want to be part of the family. Only ever came to the parties if Baz demanded it."

"Well, I've always loved your parties." Adrian felt uncomfortable with this sudden turn of conversation.

"That's right, you did. Used to always come hang out with Deran and Craig. Even when Deran dropped out of school, and then the tour. You never stopped hanging out. Aways so inseparable. Maybe I should have suspected it, really. I mean, Cath was always following Pope and Baz around. Just like you were following Craig and Deran. Looks like in the end, though, you turned out to be far more dedicated."

"I'm not sure I'm really following you."

"You and I should hang out sometime, when the boys are working. Just the two of us."

"Yeah, sure." Deran was going to freak out about that particular promise, but Adrian was pretty sure he wasn't escaping this conversation without giving it.

"You really do love my son, don't you?" Smurf asked next.

Adrian found himself unable to reply. Just like he had when Pearce had thrown it out there, as well. He hadn't even found the courage to say the words to Deran yet. He'd really appreciate it if other people stopped saying it to him like the words were tattooed on his forehead.

Smurf ignored his lack of reply, and leaned closer. "Would you do anything for my son, Adrian?"

"Of course I would." He replied instantly. Despite it being the complete truth, or maybe because it was, the smile Smurf gave him chilled him to the bone.

She rested a hand on his cheek, and leaned in. "That was the right answer." She told him. Then she let him go, and sauntered off to the house.

Even later, as he pulled into Deran and his house, he wasn't certain whether her reply had been an approval or a warning.

FIni

Because I live for random character interactions.

I totally believe Angela is the snitch, especially after last episode. Plus, nobody seems to actually like her (except Pope). So I’m thinking that says a lot about her. And, technically, Smurf hasn’t been wrong about who is dangerous to have around. Yes, there’s usually a grudge involved that is at least 50% her fault, but she’s still usually right.

I actually like Pope a lot, and his plot this season makes me sad. I mean, that’s pretty much par for the course with his plotlines, but still.

#animal kingdom #animal kingdom fanfic #adrian dolan #pope cody #smurf cody #angela

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trashmouth-tozierr · 5 years ago

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i have cried a fair few times over the finale today (coming for your brand jonah) but there was one point just before i went to bed where i just broke down and sobbed. i had seen the ep hours ago and cried during it and about 3 time since but for some reason it just hit me again in that moment.

my parents walked in on me like “oh my gosh, what on earth is wrong?” and even though they were so so lovely. they laughed at me for being extra and they just didn’t get it. they just teased me and looked in disbelief.

i mentioned tj and cyrus and i told them “you don’t know how much they mean to me.”

and how could they?

how could they possibly understand the sheer love i have for these characters?

how could they understand the way i love them like they were my friends irl?

how could they experience the feeling i got when i stayed up till 3am writing a song for tyrus because their love means more to me than any love in my own life?

how can they realise the utter disbelief i felt as i watched the recording of it hit 1k views, 2k, 3k, 4k, 5k, 6k, and now 7 freaking thousand of you have watched it. (ty from the bottom of my heart)

how could they know the pride i felt as i watched these kids grow up over the years?

the anticipation all throughout thursday nights and friday mornings as i waited anxiously for the ep link to be posted.

the excitement of logging on to tumblr to check the tag and seeing others who feel the same.

the freedom of being able to unload my thoughts into a textpost for others to share that emotion.

the happiness and insight that comes when josh answered an ask sent by me.

laughing and crying at some insane theories and also some scary accurate ones which gave me a mild heart attack.

how i would sit in my music business class on a tuesday morning and die of boredom. when scrolling through tumblr would be the only way to get through it.

how hearing the words “i’m gay” said on disney freaking channel, has literally changed lives.

the gay panic and also hilarity of josh being messy on his socials.

they’ll never know the feeling of watching a livestream of josh trying to educate us on politics, to no avail because our mans luke mullen over here keeps yelling “lesbian rights” whenever josh opens his mouth.

how sending in a message to put on a paper crane felt so good because it was a way to give back to those who changed my life.

seeing those cranes hung in a beautiful centrepiece and knowing we did it.

they will never ever know how stressful it is to watch a promo and drive myself crazy, obsessing over what it means.

they will never know (and thank god they wont) how it feels to be irritated by fucking smurfvlogs all the time.

the sense of satisfaction and pride upon seeing our little “kids show” trending on tumblr.

they’re not going to lie awake watching edits of characters to either feel alive or to tear away whatever little life i had left to feel.

they are never going to realise the impact this show had on my life and how it makes me feel inside.

never ever going to know how hard today was for me.

how upset i am over the fact that everything is going to change from now on.

how fucking fantastically amazingly brilliant it is to see my otps FINALLY get together after all this time.

how conflicted i feel with the sheer joy of watching an incredible, astounding episode but also the pure devastation and heartbreak of knowing it’s the last one ever.

because how could they? honestly, why would they ever realise these feelings? they can’t.

but you guys. you know exactly how i feel and you feel the same.

andi mack fandom, i love you all so much and thank you for everything you have done for me. you truly are my favourite fandom i have ever had the pleasure of being a part of and i do not say that lightly. i’ve been here for 2 years now and watching us grow has been such a privilege and as we go our separate ways, people will drop out, blogs with become inactive, content will stop appearing and we will slowly burn out. i want you to know, you will always have a special place in my heart.

you are all braver than you know, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think and i love you xox

#am spoilers #andi mack #andimack #andi mack finale #tyrus #tyrus andi mack #andi mack tyrus

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screamingatanemptyroom · 6 years ago

Text

Restricted Magic Arc 3 Part 7

The story continues! Thanks everyone for your patience.

Master post linked here

Gerald held his breath as Olivia and Erin walked out to meet him.

Wow.

He had always thought Erin was beautiful, her dark hair and eyes shining with an energy, a strength he could never truly understand. Her every move was graceful, a product of years of practicing fighting. She possessed refined coordination, a fine-tuned control of her body that was beyond most others. He stared at her sometimes during class, hoping to see a hint of a smile that lit up the room, causing his heart to race. What’s more, with his Insight ability he could feel her magical strength like a warm light surrounding her.

Just the day to day of being around her still drove him to distraction.

But now…

She was a little uncomfortable, he could tell despite her controlled expression. The slightest furrowing of her forehead, her hands clutching the skirt of her dark red gown just a little too tightly gave it away. But his breath caught in his chest at the sight of her, and he found he couldn’t let it out.

She was always beautiful to him, but right now…she shined like the sun.

Erin glared at his silence.

“What?”

He smiled at her harsh tone. “You look amazing.”

She relaxed a tiny amount. “Really? I feel ridiculous.”

“If that’s the case you can wear whatever you want.” Gerald shrugged, “I’ll go to this dance with you wearing our sparring clothes if you like.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mean that?”

“I do.” He grinned, grabbing one of her hands in his own. “Not that you don’t look so beautiful that I my brain has stopped functioning fully, but this is our romantic date. I want you to be comfortable and happy.”

A bright smile formed across her face. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You want to change before we go?”

“I would, but unfortunately, that’s not an option.”

Gerald frowned. “Why not?” He felt a tap on his shoulder, his face turning pale as he met Olivia’s angry expression.

“Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that dress?” She whispered. Gerald felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“You love the dress, right Erin?”

Erin nodded fervently. “Yes! I love it so much! I’m just not used to looking to great, but of course I would never change out of it.”

“…” Olivia stared at them both, Gerald broke out in a cold sweat.

“Okay.”

The pair sighed with relief.

Arriving at the ball with the group, Gerald was impressed.

“Wow, they really go all out on these events, huh?”

The room was extravagantly decorated, with elegant magical lights suspended in the air. Musicians hidden behind an illusion spell played soft music in the background, a few couples danced in the center of the room. Tables of every type of imaginable food stood off to the side. Everywhere they looked people were talking, laughing, dancing, all dressed in their finest.

“Yeah, Wilhemina went all out and above budget.” Frederick grumbled, tugging at the collar of his formal suit.

Olivia poked him in the side. “You’re just mad that the council voted down your idea for the formal.”

“It would have been so much fun!”

“Survival-style group battle with food as the grand prize?” Erin raised an eyebrow.

“At least it wouldn’t be boring.”

“…true.”

They moved forward, Olivia, Frederick and Matthias quickly heading for the tables with food on it. Erin started to follow them, but halted as Gerald stood in front of her and formally bowed.

“Please marry me.”

Erin laughed. “We’re already engaged.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He grinned. “Force of habit. May I have this dance?”

She placed her hand in his, unable to hold back a happy smile. “I’d love to.”

Frederick watched with Matthias and Olivia as their friends danced in the center of the room. He felt a small sense of relief as Erin and Gerald moved, seeing only each other. They were smiling brightly, a sight that was fairly rare with everything that had happened recently.

“Those two are so romantic! I hope this night goes well for them. ” Olivia sighed.

Shaking his head, Frederick turned to the table and grabbed a glass of punch. “Great, you jinxed it. Now something terrible is going to happen for sure.”

“Pessimist.”

“I prefer ‘negatively oriented realist’.”

“You are so…” Olivia’s words were interrupted by Matthias, who after being silent the entire evening finally spoke up.

“Who are the two standing beside that girl who hates Erin?”

Olivia paused, turning her head to look in the direction he pointed. “Who, Wilhemina? She’s just a bully. I don’t recognize those two boys though.”

Frederick looked as well, concerned. Matthias didn’t typically speak without reason. Two young men, well dressed, wealthy appearing, stood to either side of the blond girl. They were chatting idly, bored frowns on their faces. Frederick shook his head, he didn’t recognize them either. “Is there something wrong with them?”

“They’re watching Erin too closely.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Let’s move closer than.”

The group walked slowly around the room, coming close enough to hear the loud conversation between Wilhemina and her two guests.

“…honored to have two young nobleman from the House of Klien to join us for the yearly formal! I’m just so sorry about the type of trash they let into the party.” She sighed, pointedly looking over at the area where Erin and Gerald were dancing. “They just let anyone in these days.”

One of the boys stared at Erin, his eyes narrowing.

“Isn’t that General Roderick’s daughter?”

The other boy scoffed. “Heard she was a useless cast off.”

“One of the worst in our school.” Wilhemina confirmed with a smirk.

The first paused at that. “That wasn’t what I heard. I thought she was part of the winning team at the international competition. She took first place in the individual fighting category. Can’t be that weak.”

“Well, umm…” Wilhemina looked uncomfortable. “By ‘worst’ I don’t mean strength. Of course she can fight, like the brutish low-brow person she is. We call her that because she’s cheating on her fiancé.”

That got their attention. “Really now?”

“Yeah!” Wilhemina pointed to the corner of the room, where Christopher stood, surrounded by a group of people. “Her fiancé is an ambassador from Merion, but she ignores that and flaunts her relationship with another boy publically.”

“Wow, how unexpected.” The way the two boys were looking at Erin changed, making Frederick’s skin crawl. He and Olivia exchanged concerned glances, moving closer.

“Who knew the daughter of the great general would be so easy?”

“Maybe we should try our luck next?” The boy shrugged. “She’s not terrible looking.”

“She’s not worth your time!” Wilhemina looked slightly regretful now that they were moving towards the dancing couple. They shook off her attempts to restrain them, and walked onto the dance floor.

Olivia grabbed Fredericks’ arm. “You have to stop them! They’ll get into a fight with Erin!”

Frederick shot her a look. “It’s probably a little late for that. They were talking so loudly about her the whole room could hear their insults.” He glared at the offending party. “You shouldn’t be so worried. If they are dumb enough to provoke her, Erin will wipe the floor with them.”

“Of course she will. I don’t care about that! But if she fights, she’ll get their gross blood on her new dress! ” Olivia cried out.

“Oh. THAT is definitely possible.” Frederick then looked around, confused. “Where’s Matthias?”

Gerald shook his head slowly as the dance with Erin came to an end.

“Want me to take care of them?”

They had heard the group talking, heard the insults the pair had spat out towards her. Gerald felt a rage building up in his chest. A desire to tear them to pieces.

Erin chuckled. “No need. If they come bother us, I can take care of them.”

“I don’t doubt that.” His hand squeezed hers tightly. “But I am really angry right now and have a desire to be helpful. If they bother us, I’d like to be the one to stomp their heads in.”

Studying him closely, Erin finally nodded in agreement “Fine. Just don’t kill them.”

Gerald’s smile turned vicious. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Hey buddy.” A hand dropped onto his shoulder. “Can we have a turn with her?”

Gerald turned slowly to look at the young nobleman who was eyeing Erin up and down suggestively. Erin rolled her eyes, mouthing the words. “Don’t kill them” as she stepped back. Gerald smiled pleasantly at the two intruders, the expression odd as his eyes were cold and angry.

“I would advice you to turn around and walk away.”

The one who had spoken before widened his eyes at these words, shocked.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“DOESN’T MATTER?” He scoffed. “I am Lieutenant Greillan, second son to the Noble House of Klein. I was trained by General Roderick himself. I kill weaklings like you every morning.”

He studied Gerald’s expression, seeming confused when he didn’t react. Finally, after a long silence, Gerald spoke quietly.

“General Roderick trained you?”

Greillan smiled, “Yeah, so only a fool would challenge me.”

BAM!

Gerald’s fist struck the young man’s face, knocking him back a few steps.

“Good.” Gerald loosened his collar, looking pleased. “That should make this fight a little more entertaining.”

The nobleman clutched his face, “YOU STRUCK ME.” “Yes.”

“YOU DARE?”

“Obviously.”

“GUARDS!” He called out in a loud voice. “ARREST HIM!”

“…” There was a long pause as no one stood out. From the corner of his eye he saw Matthias tying up an unconscious personal guard wearing the colors of the House of Klein. Seeing Gerald looking his way, he gave him a thumbs up without changing his expression. Gerald returned the gesture, stepping away from his opponent.

“Let’s fight.”

Greillan frowned. “Why would we fight over a trash woman like her.”

Gerald heard a ringing in his ears. He didn’t remember striking the man again, but saw him reel back, clutching his face, his lip cut and bleeding.

“The only trash here is you.” His smile widened, as the other man paled with anger.

“Fine.” He spat out. “Don’t regret it. This is the power of the nobility.” He took a stance, a burning flame forming around his hand.

Gerald let out a quiet sigh, ignoring his surroundings, focusing his power, his insight only on his opponent. Everything came into focus.

Level 3 fire. Level 2 water.Level 3 earth.

Information about his opponent’s powers flooded his mind. As he continued to hold his magic on his, more than just the basics, crossed over.

/Activation time 4.3 seconds. Frequently uses fire. Weak at water magic.

He was activating a spell that would send a single ball of fire at him. Gerald’s ability judged the exact amount of power being used in the spell, and nullified it with a water spell of the exact same level.

HISS.

Steam rose up from the surprised nobleman’s hand as his fire spell fizzled out. Confused, he tried the same spell again.

Gerald waved a hand casually.

It was nullified.

“What are you…?!” Greillan bit his lip, and leapt closer, causing the floor underneath Gerald’s feet to shift with earth magic.

“Weak.” Gerald stilled the movement with a thought, the ground below his opponent’s feet reaching up and snagging his legs, stopping him mid-air.

Desperate, Greillan shot out water and fire magic and random, over and over until he had to stop from exhaustion. He panted heavily, staring in disbelief at the calm Gerald who hadn’t taken a single step forward.

Fire magic had been nullified with similarly powered water magic. Water magic had been overpowered with the exact same spell shot back. Gerald could use the exact same amount of magic as the nobleman, but his control was finer, his spells more effective. Each use of magic blew up in the Greillan’s face, until he couldn’t move from exhaustion and pain.

“…” Greillan gritted his teeth, ready to surrender despite his pride.

But Gerald didn’t give him the chance.

“My turn.”

With a slight smile, he moved forward, walking slowly, knowing his opponent couldn’t run away. He patted the man’s cheek, and then reared back, punching him in the face.

BAM!

“That’s for spreading rumors about my fiancé.”

The man’s head snapped back, but Gerald’s earth magic kept him from falling.

BAM!

“That’s for calling her trash.”

Greillan tried to hold up his hands to surrender, but Gerald ignored it.

BAM!

“And that’s for interrupting the date I’ve looked forward to.”

The room was silent.

He hadn’t shouted. Hadn’t lost his temper. But everyone stepped further back with fear anyways.

With a wave of his hand, he cancelled his earth magic, letting the unconscious nobleman fall to the ground. He then turned to the other nobleman at his side.

“Would you like to be next?”

“…” The man’s face was pale. Gerald smiled gently, his eyes still cold.

“That reminds me, I haven’t introduced myself.” He bowed mockingly.

“Prince Geraldo de Riciancia of the Ellurine Alliance.”

The other nobleman’s eyes were wide with fear as he glanced between Gerald and his unconscious friend on the floor.

“Did you have anything to say about my fiancé, Erin?” Gerald probed.

“AHH!” The man screamed, turned around and ran away.

Gerald turned towards Erin and bowed before her again. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

Erin shook her head, a helpless smile on her face. “Couldn’t be helped.”

“May I have the next dance?”

“Sure.”

They started dancing, the music from the hidden musicians resuming once more.

“Are you okay?” Erin asked, a hand brushing his face. Gerald closed his eyes, trying to swallow down the rage the had built up within him.

“I will be.”

“They aren’t worth it.”

“No. But you are.”

The couple danced on, enjoying the night as if they had never been interrupted.

“Interesting.”

Christopher stood in the shadows, having escaped his crowd of admirers, and watched as the two brash, slightly intoxicated young noblemen approached the dancing couple. He leaned against a pillar, studying closely as the troublemaker was beaten into the ground. Throughout the fight his face remained expressionless, although the slightest hint of a grimace of sympathy appeared at the moment when the man’s face was struck with a fist. He remembered all too well how much pain that fist could inflict.

With one assailant down, the second ran away from the couple, who ignored his fleeing.

Well this won’t do.

With a quiet sigh, Christopher reached out and gently grasped the man’s neck as he ran by. At the moment his fingers made contact, the man dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Christopher rolled him onto his back, smiling at the startled young nobleman.

“You and your brother made some poor choices tonight.”

The man whimpered with fear, and seemed to reach out as if trying to attack. Christopher simply watched, waiting until the horror completely dawned on the young man’s face. Raising a finger, a ball of revolving wind magic appeared, and then flattened itself into a blade.

“Perhaps you were trying to do this?” He chuckled, holding the magic blade right at the man’s neck.

“Forget what happened tonight.” Christopher whispered. “I’ll send your brother home safely, but if anyone asks, you two got drunk and fought at a bar. No one mentions this school, or that woman to anyone.”

“…” The young nobleman seemed too terrified to answer.

“You have meddled in things far beyond your limited understanding.” Christopher canceled the wind magic, suppressing the urge to shudder at the crawling sensation of the power draining from hands.

“I need her to save the world, so if you get in my way, I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you.” His face was serious, leaving no doubt that he was telling the truth. “Understood?”

After a long hesitation, the young man nodded his head slowly.

“Then go.” Christopher sent him out, watching as his limping form exited the building. He then shrugged, speaking the shadows nearby.

“Having fun watching?”

“…” There was no answer.

“Not much of a talker are you?” Christopher shook his head. “Can we at least call a truce during the trip to Merion? As much as I enjoy the thrill of evading constant assassination attempts, I deserve a break every once and a while.”

“…”

Frustrated, Christopher tried a new tactic. “What if I promise not to hurt her?”

“What do you want?” Matthias stepped out of the shadows, his face carefully blank.

“To save the world.” Christopher tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Matthias frowned. “Saving the world doesn’t mean she won’t get hurt.”

“If I don’t succeed everyone gets hurt.”

“If you sacrifice her to do it, then everyone should.”

“…” Christopher was shocked. “So you’re a psychopath, huh?” He sighed. “Should have guessed, since you’ve been trying to kill me for just being engaged to her.”

“That’s not why. Or I would have killed Gerald too.”

His brows knitted. “Then why?”

“Because when you look at her you see a tool, not a person.”

Christopher was impressed at the young man’s clear perception.“Wow you much watch her a lot. Does Erin know you’re a paranoid stalker?”

Matthias shrugged. “Yes.”

“Well you’re coming along to Merion anyways. If I hurt her, you can kill me.” Christopher suggested this nonchalantly, as if his death meant little to him.

“No. If you even think of trying to hurt her, I’ll kill you.” Matthias stepped closer, his voice pitched at a whisper. “If you hurt her…I won’t just kill you. I’ll kill everyone, and everything you care about.”

“You nutjob…”

“Even if that’s this world you so desperately want to save.”

With that, he was gone.

Christopher stared after him, his fists clenched tightly.

What have I gotten myself into?

There was less than a week left before they would leave for Merion.

I cannot fail.

He thought of Matthias’ words, and shuddered.

Even if they all have to die.

#writing #Erin/Gerald #fantasy #action #fighting #yay writing #longer part hooray #they leave for Merion next #hope you all enjoy!

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