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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response.

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response.

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal.

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding.

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response.

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room.

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison.

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added.

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head.

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit.

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged.

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car.

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did.

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled.

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean.

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy.

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food.

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video.

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed.

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

***

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.”

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over.

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack.

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded.

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind.

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.”

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth.

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.”

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face.

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

He glared at you in response.

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious.

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back.

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity.

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off.

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots.

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too.

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain.

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward.

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy.

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him.

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.”

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed.

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation.

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.”

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?”

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping.

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.”

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more.

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced.

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest.

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout.

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder.

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought.

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name.

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down.

“Why?” she questioned defensively.

“Something might still be out there,” he answered.

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone.

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look.

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that.

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy.

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned.

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on.

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him.

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag.

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over.

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason.

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—”

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay.

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her.

“Ben,” Haley told you.

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans.

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit.

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say. “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly.

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in.

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him.

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time.

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

“Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped.

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle.

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream.

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy.

“Roy! Come back!” you called.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground.

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground.

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days.

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap.

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.”

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

All you got was a huff in response.

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument.

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with.

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position.

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained.

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued.

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood.

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued.

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you.

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear.

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved.

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.”

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive.

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work.

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest.

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester.

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through.

And then, the growling again.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses.

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her.

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you.

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway.

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you.

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach.

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers.

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. “Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned.

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from.

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car.

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself.

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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anystalker707 · 11 months

Text

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two imagines one in which you ask Sanji to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Gentleman Sanji !! / Also babygirl Sanji, ofc / Very sweet, y'kno / Sanji can't help himself / You can't either, but it's nice seeing him caving in / Very romantic Check out (Roronoa Zoro's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

All of that kind of got you frustrated. Robin had recommended you a book, a book that was too immersive for its own good. Since living as a pirate took most of your time, you’d never really thought about it until you started reading that; the book stuck in your mind a little too long, hence it wasn’t difficult hearing the others once in a while telling you to come back to earth.

It was difficult not thinking about the book the entire time. The way the couple kissed... What did it feel like? Having the lips of someone you like pressed against yours, their tongue running against your lip...

“I told you to pull the halyard, (y/n)! Are you listening?” Nami’s voice cut through your thoughts. Fuck, you spaced out again.

“Sorry, Nami-san!” You shout in return, finally doing as said. Damn it. That book really caught you, leaving you wondering whether you liked the story itself or if all those descriptions just caught your attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished pulling the sail and, along with Nami and Zoro, you finished preparing the ship for the night.

With dinner already being served, it didn’t take long until everyone was going back to their quarters—or just falling asleep wherever, in Luffy’s case. All the lights were off, only with a dim beam coming from the window on the door of the galley. Today’s night watch was Sanji’s. You sort of had been waiting for that.

Sanji had always been there for you, really—aside from all the flirting, he did take his time to check up on you and hang out, sometimes inviting you to help him finish decorating whatever dessert he was preparing for the crew just so you two could talk. It was something else, so you couldn’t really help looking at Sanji with a different tone after you started reading that damn book Robin recommended to you. His lips seemed extra attractive as he talked to you yesterday when you made him company while he prepared lunch, shaping nicely around every word he spoke. Sometimes you asked him to repeat himself; he probably thought you were dumb, damn.

Only the soft sound of the waves filled the ambient aside from the occasional creaking of wood under your feet as you started heading upstairs to reach the galley. You stood there for a long moment before you finally knocked on the door, sighing, and walked in.

“Sanji?” You closed the door behind yourself; Sanji was by the sink and looked back at you over his shoulder with a smile.

“(Y/n)-chan! What brings you here?” He grinned. “It’s already late, y’know? Why haven’t you gone to sleep already? Such a pretty warrior like you needs a good night of sleep, my dear.” And even if he just had his back to you at the moment, you could still picture how he would’ve winked otherwise. Why did Sanji have to be so charming? He kinda reminded you of the guy in the book you were reading, all romantic, with those kisses... But better, of course.

Okay, whatever, that’s not the point.

You clear your throat, shaking your head as you lean forward with your forearms on the cold surface of the counter. “Right. I want a favor.”

“A favor?” Sanji turned off the sink and turned to you, wiping his hands dry on his apron. He had no blazer or tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Your eyes quickly met his again and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Something simple, but... Like, you can refuse it.”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows. “Right, but what’s it?”

Fuck. That was going to be harder than you thought. Your eyes averted away. “Yeah. You’re, like, the only person I trust and also the one who’s probably the best for this,” you mumbled, but immediately paused again—rambling wasn’t a good idea—, “like... Could you show me how to kiss? As I said, it’s fine if you don’t accept it, but it would be really nice if you—”

“...You’ve never kissed anyone before?” Sanji blinked a couple of times.

“Don’t tease me, Sanji,” you sighed, standing up properly and scratching the back of your neck. “I never really had the time, never really thought about it, y’know, but...”

“No, no,” Sanji sighed as he stepped closer. “That’s not what I mean, darling. The thing is, are you sure you’re going to give your first kiss to me? It’s something special, after all. You must think really well about it.”

Why did Sanji have to complicate things? It felt like you’d just explode at some point because of the whole tension, even more with how he acted. You just wanted to vanish or something, pretend that never happened.

“Sanji... You’re, like, special enough.” You shrugged, but then the way he started to blush made you rethink your words. Could that just get worse? “Ah, c’mon, I just...”

“Right, right.” Sanji quickly nodded—maybe he knew what you thought, since he was good at reading you and catching onto clues in general. “I’m honestly honored. You’re very sweet, my dear. I’m going to make it simple, okay?” He grinned wide as he usually did and walked around the counter to come closer, standing right in front of you after you turned around, leaning back against the counter and holding onto the edges.

You nodded, your eyes catching onto every little movement, from the way he adjusted his clothes out of instinct to the way there was a nervous trembling tugging onto the corner of his lips.

Sanji’s tongue poked out, running between his lips as he leaned in, a hand gripping onto the edge counter by each of your sides. His breath fanned over your face, and the smell of his cologne with a hint of tobacco filled your lungs. “Just try to go along with what I do, okay?” He whispered, waiting for you to nod before he finally closed the distance between you two.

Sanji’s lips pressed to yours softly, warm and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong. His mouth broke the contact only for a second as, instead of having your bottom lip between his, he had your upper lip now; you tried to follow his gentle motions, your lips clumsily moving against his. Sanji still remained calm, keeping the same slow pace of the kiss until you could finally kiss back properly.

It was a hard task, actually. How could you keep yourself calm while you finally kissed someone? And, hold on, it wasn’t anyone. It was Sanji.

“Good?” Sanji whispered, his eyes looking into yours so intently you could feel your heart beating more while your face felt so hot; still, you nodded. He smiled in response. “Can I do it again, my dear?”

How were you even supposed to handle that? “Yes, yes,” you whispered, maybe a little more excited than you intended, but it didn’t matter.

Sanji soon pressed his lips against yours again, and things were smoother this time. The kiss felt different, even if it all was essentially the same thing as before. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your fingers tightening a little around the marble as you tried to focus more on how his lips felt against yours; from the way your lips slid together to how his breath fanned against the space between your upper lip and your nose— And oh, also how his mustache would tickle whenever it grazed your skin, the same way it would tickle when his goatee brushed your chin. It was fucking better than anything you could ever have imagined. Better than what the books could have described.

You sighed softly, about to move your hand to his shoulder when Sanji pulled away a little, but he quickly kissed you again, making you gasp when his tongue ran against your bottom lip. It made a shiver run down your spine, having something stirring in your chest as your lips parted slightly.

The kiss finally broke, and your lips still felt tingly even so. You caught your breath, blinking before you finally looked at Sanji, your heart still beating fast and face still warm.

“Sanji—”

“Was that good, my dear?” There was something different in his voice.

“Of course.” Admitting it out loud made you want to disappear again.

Sanji smiled, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”

“What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows; your hand met Sanji’s so easily, just with a light shift as you just wanted to adjust your hand against the counter. You keep it there, though, on top of his.

Sanji’s eyes averted away, a sigh escaping his lips. “It was wrong of me.”

“...Hm?”

“Wrong to enjoy it while I was just doing you a favor. I’m so sorry, my dear,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” You glanced away. “I... Sanji, that was so... Like, you made my heart skip beats, that...”

A red tone took over Sanji’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he looked at you. “Really?”

You nodded, chuckling. “Really.”

“Would you mind if I did it again?” He grinned again, wagging his eyebrows a little.

Your eyes averted away and you tried to bite back a smile. “...Of course not.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

Sanji didn’t fucking know what he was going to do. The crew had been staying on an island for a while, partying away and relaxing after they saved yet other people from someone who threatened their peace. Unexpectedly, it earned him a date with one of the girls in the city that he met in a local bar through his characteristic flirting. So far so good, right? Actually, no. That was the first person who actually got that far with him, so he didn’t even know how to kiss—the only experience he had was pecking lips with whoever he got closer with, never actually kissing.

Maybe someone would help him with it? Because Sanji sure as hell didn’t want to lose that opportunity. It really was the first time he had gotten that far. He could ask Nami, right? Only if he was ready to hear her teasing at him the whole time and still dare ask him an immeasurable amount of berries for the ‘favor’. Robin would be nice, but it still wasn’t a great choice—she would be a tease in her own, harsh way, and Sanji didn’t want to lose the bit of respect he had with her. The men—out of question. No.

Then... There was you.

It didn’t seem like you would refuse his request, and Sanji was—almost—sure you knew how to kiss. Not to mention that you had such pretty lips that he couldn’t help imagining how they would feel against his and— Okay, that’s not the focus. He just had to get ready for a date, that, shamefully, wasn’t with you.

Sanji stood there in the kitchen, polishing glasses as he observed you finish eating breakfast while the rest of the crew already started to leave the galley; Zoro had chased Usopp and Luffy out of the kitchen most of the others was already off to their duties, only leaving you talking with Robin about a book she had in hand. Robin would lift her book or open at specific pages to show you something while you sipped on your juice until she eventually stood up with a sigh and left, waving at you.

Now was his chance.

“(Y/n)-swan...” Sanji’s voice cut through the galley in its mellow tone, almost as if it were a plea already, making you raise an eyebrow at him from your place at the table. “I may need your help with something, my dear.” He was thankful he was behind the counter so you wouldn’t have a full look on how weak you made you.

“What’s it?” You sipped on your juice as you looked at him. It was normal seeing Sanji blushing and fawning over people, but it wasn’t exactly your case; he used to be shy around you, though not really as squirmy as he was at the moment.

Sanji took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt of easing the fluster. “You know how to kiss, right?” He remembered you would talk with some people whenever the crew would party on islands, which was enough to make him jealous and worsen his nervousness in a way his flirting just stopped working with everyone else. Until now, it seemed.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was that even important? “...Yeah, I do.” The way Sanji looked at you made you rethink the events of the last week to check if you’d done anything wrong. Had you? Maybe last night when you—

“I...” Sanji sighed. “Can you come here?”

With a quick look around—was it a prank?—, you downed your juice before standing up. “What’s it?” You stood across from him, on the other side of the counter, resting your forearms over the cold marble.

Sanji took a deep breath. “I would like you to show me how to kiss.”

You blinked. Show him how to kiss. Him being Sanji. Sanji and you with your lips pressed to each other. Kissing. “What?”

“I got a date, but I... I don’t know how to kiss. I would only trust such a sweet person like you with teaching me how to do such an important thing, you know? I really hope you can help me....” His rant faded away into the back of your mind as you could feel your cheeks start to heat up while you digested everything that he said.

A string of curses escaped your lips as you let your head hang, staring at the marble in an attempt to ground yourself to reality. Like, Sanji was cute, of course, with that characteristic grace that laced his movements whenever he cooked and the cute way he smiled at you while saying something reassuring. Still, he never really paid attention to you like he did to the others, but he was there asking you such a favor. It was just a simple favor. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Nonetheless, the fact he had a date still made your heart sink a little.

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you brought your head up again. Sanji was still speaking. That stupid fuck.

“Sanji,” you cut him off, watching him gulp, his cheeks red. “I can help you. Chill. I’ll help you.” You cleaned your throat because. After all, it was just a little favor, right? Right?

Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous that you’d actually accepted. He was very convinced that you’d accept it, of course, but not really. Like, maybe you would, but also— Okay, okay, focus. Sanji took a deep breath again and nodded, pressing his lips together. He quickly put the glass and the cloth away. What if he took too long and you changed your mind? He couldn’t risk that.

With quick steps, Sanji walked around the counter and stood in front of you. “Right... What do I need to...?” Despite how serious he tried to seem, he still held onto his apron tightly and his cheeks had that red tone while he looked at you.

It made your heart flutter a little, even if that wouldn’t matter a lot to him. Breathe deeply, (y/n), don’t make it a big deal.

“Relax, okay?” You cut off your own thoughts, cupping Sanji’s face gently. He bit on his lip, and the general way he acted almost made your heart ache. “No, don’t bite your lip.” You chuckled, running your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to help him calm down, but the way he reacted, damn... “Okay, better. Can I?”

Sanji blinked and quickly nodded. “Yes.”

Spending a little while longer looking at Sanji was a strong temptation, but it wasn’t like you were kissing a partner or something like that; there was no need to admire him and take in each detail of how pretty he was before you kissed him. You swallowed dryly and nodded, closing the distance between the two of you. Sanji gasped once your lips met, but you still held the kiss for a little before pulling away, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Is there something wrong?”

Sanji blinked a couple of times. “I—I was a little out of it. Can you do it again?”

Out of it? Or maybe he disliked it? You slowly nodded and kissed Sanji again and, this time, he tried to kiss back, though it was a little messy since he tried to rush things—you pulled away with a chuckle.

“Easy! You need to follow the pace or at least slowly establish one. Also, don’t try to use tongue out of sudden— No, you didn’t do that, but that’s just a tip.” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows a little at how his face fell a little. “Just simple kisses, okay? I kiss your upper lip while you kiss my bottom one and vice versa. No rushing.”

Sanji’s gaze averted away and he sighed, pressing his lips together, but he still nodded. This time, there was no warning before you pressed your lips to his, and he seemed to hold onto what you said, moving his lips—or at least trying to—in the same rhythm as yours, which was quite slow. His lips were warm and smooth against yours, and there was the sweet taste of whatever fruit he had eaten for breakfast earlier along with tobacco, of course. It wasn’t the best mix ever, but there was something about it that had you needing more.

You pulled away, your breath picking up a little; Sanji’s breath fanned over your face, also somewhat uneven. “Was that okay?”

“...Yeah,” he whispered.

“I will try something else,” you added. Why were you still so close while talking like that? Why were you still cupping his face? “Try to copy.”

All Sanji did was to nod this time, already closing his eyes.

It was a little better this time, smoother, since Sanji already started to get used to it, but he still faltered when your tongue slid against his bottom lip. Sanji gasped softly but accepted it, letting you trace his lip with your tongue until you went back to kissing him like before. His hands suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing them a little with the firm grip he used while trying to run his tongue against your lip as naturally as you had done to him.

If you had opened your eyes, you would see Sanji furrowing his eyebrows gently, focused as he tried his best. He wondered if you could hear how loud his heart was beating because, fuck, that was finally happening. He was finally kissing you.

Sanji’s breath was shaky when the kiss ended again and he could feel his heart fluttering with how your thumb ran across his cheek gently before your hand dropped to cup the side of his neck. His eyes met yours and he gulped.

“Ag—”

“Want one more thing?” You suggested and he couldn’t help but nod, biting his lip, and he was the one to lean in this time.

Something was different about this one kiss, and Sanji couldn’t really find out what it was—he just hummed softly, trying to follow your pace and letting your tongue run against your lip until you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, his brain just went blank when your tongue pressed against his, gliding against it and deepening the kiss. He was still trying to process it when you pulled away, hence he couldn’t even take in whatever you said, just able to mumble “again.”

Who were you to deny the request? Your free hand rested on Sanji’s waist and his hands adjusted their grip around your shoulders as your lips met once more. More confidence laced Sanji’s actions this moment, his tongue running against your lip as he kissed you, but you couldn’t help yourself, just pulling him a little closer and nibbling gently on his bottom lip, enough to snatch a quiet sound from him.

Both of you breathed a little heavier, holding onto each other even after the kiss was over.

“Y’know?” Sanji said, making you hum in response. “I don’t think I want to go out with that girl anymore...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #fan fic #fan fiction #imagine #one shot #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #usopp #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper

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runningfrom2am · 10 months

Text

no drinks, no pools, no molly. (r.c)

summary: five times rafe cameron tried to ask you out, and the one time it worked.

this is an About Time!au (that's is my fave movie of all time and if you haven't seen it i highly recommend it if you like laughing and sobbing at the same time)

tags/warnings: you might cringe (a real warning), soft(ish)!rafe, def fanon!rafe, swearing? fluff! underage drinking

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 4.6k (yikes)

recommended listening: about time theme, friday i'm in love

note: please please please if you haven't seen the movie at least give the theme a listen, while you read this or on its own but i promise it'll make your heart melt it's so adorable, i listened to it through most of the writing process and it made me want to cry sooo

Rafe Cameron has a flawless reputation. Tainted only by his better-than-thou attitude, as some perceive it- but always kind, always caring. Suspiciously so, to many, considering his semi-popularity, but that has never bothered him. He's a "stop and smell the roses" kind of guy, making him insufferable to some, but not to you.

It's not like you two are close friends, but he's had a seemingly hopeless crush on you for years at this point. He sees you almost every day at the country club in the summers, and lucky for him, you usually have two or sometimes three classes together at the academy on the mainland during the rest of the year. He thinks you're just about the most beautiful girl in the world- if he had to guess. The way the light reflects off your hair in the sun as you lay on a beach chair by the pool with a drink in your hand, making it look so soft and so shiny he's just dying to touch it, leaves him in awe every time.

After much encouragement from his sisters, he's decided it's time to act on this crush. After years, he still doesn't know if he can. Even if he has nothing to lose.

What everyone doesn't know about Rafe and his reputation, is that he has lived two lives. His dad told him when he was eighteen that by some miracle the men in his family could travel back in time, and his sisters could never know. All he had to do was simply stand in a dark, enclosed space and close his fists at his side- picturing the moment he wanted to go back to in his mind. Then, he would find himself there. He didn't believe it at first, believing his dad was pulling the wool over his eyes, but he tried it that night anyways- and was shocked to find himself in yesterday's clothes with his previous day's breakfast sitting on his desk waiting for him.

This changed everything, and he really never had anything to lose- but that didn't make the terrifying concept of talking to you any easier.

One:

"Go, Rafe! Go talk to her. Just be yourself." Sarah is pushing him in your direction and he stumbles a little on his feet, cheeks burning hot from nerves working in tandem with the heat of the hot summer day. He almost drops his drink, glaring at her over his shoulder as she waves for him to move, smiling excitedly. He supposes now is as good a time as any- you're alone, sitting next to the pool on a towel with a novel in your hands and a tequila sunrise at your side. He wonders if that's your favourite as he hesitantly walks up, repeatedly glancing back at his sister who's giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?" Rafe says, clearing his throat as he stands over you, his shadow blocking the sunlight from your eyes as you lift your sunglasses.

"Hey, Rafe. How's it going?" You smile, settling your glasses in your hair.

"Oh, uh, pretty good," Rafe replies, and you nod with a smile, almost like you're waiting for him to continue. "Can I join you?" He asks, gesturing to the empty chair beside you.

"Of course!" You grin, patting the empty seat.

"Sweet, cool- thanks..." He says, mostly to himself as he steps around you and between the chairs, going to sit down when he stubs his toe on the leg of the reclined sun chair.

"Ow, shit!" He hisses, instantly recoiling and in the process, dumping his drink all over you.

You gasp, quickly sitting up and shaking off your book, hoping it's not too damaged along with your white swimsuit that is now stained red with the grenadine in his drink.

"Oh, oh god- I'm so sorry, Y/N, I-" Rafe panics, the pain in his foot suddenly gone as he looks you over.

"It's fine, Rafe. It happens." You chuckle a little, but he can tell you're not pleased as you desperately shake your book.

"Uh, here, I'm so sorry-" He says again, grabbing a towel from the table next to you to try and help dry you off, but realizes too late that your drink is balanced on the edge of it and he spills it, once again onto your lap.

You fly up out of your seat, jumping a little at the cold and brushing the ice cubes off your lap. Now your bathing suit and book are most definitely ruined and you groan at the thought of having to repurchase your favourite book, which you've read no less than seven times now. "Shit.." You mumble, more to yourself.

"God I'm so sorry, I just-" Rafe is absolutely humiliated, he doesn't even know what to say as his cheeks are red hot from having most definitely blown any shot he's ever had with you. He gets up and quickly takes off towards the clubhouse, running out of the situation as fast as possible. You watch him in confusion, laughing a little as he leaves you awkwardly standing by the pool with a newly tie-dyed bathing suit.

"Ouch..." Wheezie grumbles, sipping on her own drink as he watches Rafe run away.

"Where is he going?" Sarah says, wincing a little as she looks at you as well, giving you a quick awkward wave since your eyes landed on his sisters, hoping for any answers.

"No clue, but after that trainwreck, I'd be running too." Her sister answers with a slight laugh.

When Rafe gets inside, he slows to a quick-paced walk since he knows he's not allowed to run inside. He's got a firm destination in mind- the broom closet in the locker room.

Two:

Rafe is standing on the back porch at one of Kelce's parties, admiring the way you hold your drink with both hands as you stand by the pool with some of your friends, talking over the music. They scare him, sure, but not as much as you do. Even though he knows you're not a mean person, at the same time he has to acknowledge that they, your friends, will be his harshest critics if he tries to make any moves on you.

"Dude, just go talk to her, this is ridiculous at this point," Topper says to him, nudging his shoulder. "It's hard to watch, honestly. Just, here, take this- then go talk to her."

His friend is holding a shot glass up to him, holding some nondescript clear liquid. "Liquid courage, man, what's the worst that could happen?"

Rafe nods, trying to hype himself up. He glances over your way again, sighing to himself at how pretty you look. How pretty you always look. He swallows his pride and takes the shot, shivering at the bitter taste and handing the glass back to Topper as he wipes his mouth, coughing in the process.

"Okay, now, go ask her out, the worst she can say is no." His friend is encouraging, but Rafe isn't worried about what you'll say, so much as what he'll do to embarrass himself this time. He's lucky he's the only one who remembers the country club incident that happened just a week prior.

Rafe smiles nervously at his friend and adjusts the collar of his shirt, walking down the stairs of the porch and heading in your direction. He stops halfway and abandons his half-finished drink on the stairs. He's not risking that again.

"Hey." Rafe clears his throat as he walks up to you and your friends, but it seems that no one heard him over the music. "Uh, hey, guys." He says again, slightly louder this time and grabbing their attention.

"Rafe! Hi." You smile, seemingly excited to see him and you quickly give him a hug. He's shocked, but hugs you back. "How are you? I haven't seen you around this week!"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, I've been pretty busy." He lies, smiling at you nervously. He tries to relax as he takes in your intoxicated state, knowing you're having fun, and not taking much seriously.

"Sarah said you've just been locked up at Tannyhill all week." Your friend laughs a little, making him blush.

"I mean, yeah I wasn't feeling well. Had a bad cold." He pats himself on the back for the quick save, but that is cut short as you take a subtle step back, smiling at him awkwardly and shifting your body language after having just hugged him. Shit, he knows how anxious you are about getting sick. "I mean, not bad, I think it was probably allergies. Nothing contagious, I don't think." He scrambles to backtrack.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better." You say, carefully eyeing him up and down. God, now you must think he's gross. Great.

"Thanks." He smiles. "Uh, can I grab you another drink? I'm empty-handed; at Kelces parties that's a sin." Rafe chuckles, trying to change the subject as he notices your almost empty cup.

He's hoping to get you away from the watchful eye of your friends, and it seems to work as you smile and nod. "I'll be right back." You say to your friends, stepping back to squeeze past them as he joins your side. Now is his chance.

"So, uh, I was actually wondering if-"

"Rafe! Buddy!" He hears someone yelling at him excitedly, their tone getting louder as they approach quickly.

"Kelce, h-hey!" He says, just as his friend reaches his side, shoving into him as he suddenly comes to a stop at the edge of the pool. He wraps an arm around Rafe's shoulder and uses him to steady himself- but unfortunately, Rafe is the wrong person for this.

He stumbles back with the weight of another teenage boy against him, bumping into you and you lose your balance. "Oh, shit- Y/N, be careful." He laughs a little, turning to make sure you're okay, slamming his elbow into your side and pushing you into the water by accident. He didn't realize how close you were still standing to him.

Rafe freezes, his jaw-dropping as suddenly everyone in the vicinity is watching. "Oh, shit!" Kelce laughs, nudging Rafe again as he stands there slack-jawed. He looks briefly over to your friends who are crouched down at the edge of the pool now, shouting your name and ready to pull you out. You gasp as you come out of the water, frantically pushing your hair out of your face. Your makeup is ruined, and no doubt your hair as well. Rafe could tell you put time into how you would look tonight.

"Y/N! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" He says, finally snapping back to reality. He crouches down as well to try and help, but you look at him only briefly before swimming over to your friends.

"That's rough, bro." Kelce laughs quietly at Rafe, who's standing back up, defeated now. "Hope you weren't trying to hit that."

"Do you have a walk-in pantry?" Rafe quickly asks him.

Three:

No pool this time. That's for sure. They seem to be bad luck for Rafe, and this time, as he looks at the small gift bag he hid under the table of other gifts for you on your birthday, he knows he just has to get you alone to open it. Your friends were throwing you a big party at Molly's house, and invited everyone on your side of the island. It was big, after all, you were the kook princess- but Sarah seems next in line for the title.

It's proving to be difficult, though, since there are about fifty other kids here- and you're the star of the show. As always. This doesn't bother him, though, not at all. You deserve it, and he can't wait to be on the planning end of all your birthday parties for the rest of your lives.

"Y/N/N! Let's do presents, yeah? I can't wait for you to open mine." Molly smiles at her best friend, guiding her over to the firepit area next to the gift table. Rafe is all ears, confident with his hiding place as he makes his way over too, sitting a couple of seats down so you'd have room for your friends as well. Not everyone wanted to watch you open your gifts, that seemed like a childish thing, almost, so the party just continued around you.

"Rafe, how are you?" You asked him with a smile while your other friends sat down. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I'm good, yeah. Happy birthday, by the way." Rafe replies, fiddling with a stray thread on the hem of his shorts. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course! It wouldn't be a party without you." You giggle, about to speak again when Molly is thrusting a box in your lap, wrapped with pink paper and a glittery bow.

"Here, this one first- it's from Ava and Maya." She explains, even though you're already reading the attached tag. You nod, looking over to the two girls.

After about forty minutes of Rafe watching you open gift after gift, he's getting nervous. He didn't get you anything extravagant, only a small bracelet with a little note. He didn't want you to think he was crazy, or weird.

He looks over just as you help tuck away the last of the garbage into an empty bag, not wanting to leave a mess on your friend's lawn. He's sure that the whole time you were opening gifts, you didn't let a single piece of stray wrapping paper or tape hit the ground. You were so considerate.

"Hey, wait- Y/N/N, here's another one. I think this is it." Molly says, walking over and dropping the small bag into your hands.

No, no- god, you can't open this in front of so many people. Rafe's hands start to shake as he watches you helplessly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as you carefully pull out the small box. You smile softly as you turn it over in your hands, and maybe, Rafe thinks, it will be fine. Maybe you'll open it and then love it and read the card and nod at him with that beautiful smile he knows so well, and then he'll finally have his chance.

"Who's it from?" He's pulled quickly from his daydream as he watches you open the now unwrapped box, smiling wide and placing your hand over your chest. "That's beautiful, Y/N/N." Molly smiles, crouched next to her best friend as she stares over the delicate bracelet as well.

"It is..." You sigh softly, placing it back down gently in the box.

"Yeah, who is it from?" Molly asks again, taking the bag and digging out the card. Rafe wants to speak up but he can't, knowing that would incriminate himself further. He's frozen as she opens it, his hands getting clammy as she starts reading it out loud without scanning the intention of the letters first.

"Dear Y/N." She smiles, confident as she continues reading and Rafe sinks back in his seat, pulling his shirt up to cover his nose. "Happy birthday to the most beautiful girl on the island. I wouldn't doubt it for a second if someone told me you were the most beautiful in all the world." She reads and you pout, blushing as you clutch your hands to your chest, all your friends going "aw" along with Molly, who's taken a pause in her reading to gush over how sweet that is. "Anyway, I'm hoping you'll let me take you out for dinner later this week, I'd really love to get to know you better." She continues, pausing a little before quietly reading off the final line. "Love always, Rafe..." She trails off, looking back over her shoulder at him.

Not everyone heard his name, but even her looking at him was enough to send everyone else watching the signal nonetheless. "Wait, Molls, why would you read that out, that was meant to be private, I think..." You whisper to her, guilt crossing your features as you look nervously between her and Rafe.

"Oh... oops." Molly replies, looking back at Rafe again apologetically. "Rafe, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine, uh, yeah it's cool. I, Uh, I've got to- yeah..." Rafe says, getting up quickly and heading for the door of the house.

"Rafe! Wait!" You call after him, handing the box and the note back to your friend and getting up to follow him quickly. You get inside just as you hear the bathroom door close, sighing a little to yourself. You'll wait here for him to come out so you can talk, and this will give you time to think over the best way to apologize.

As the light flickers off in the bathroom, Rafe knows he can't face you after that, quick to clench his fists at his sides and think of that morning- wishing that the whole thing never happened.

Four:

"How much do you know about Y/N?" Rafe asks his friends, watching you tee off on the hole ahead of them. The way your tennis skirt matches your headband makes his head honestly spin, you're so intentional with every outfit you wear- he thinks it's adorable. No one on the island dresses as well as you, in his opinion.

"What do you mean, like, how she is in bed? You'd have to ask her ex." Kelce laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

"No, obviously not." Rafe blushes. "Like, what kind of guys does she even like?"

"Why, you gonna ask her out?" Kelce laughs a little, stopping as he sees that Rafe is serious. "Oh- I mean, her ex was a total douchebag, so that's a good place to start. Apparently, she likes assholes."

Rafe nods a little, watching you drive off in the golf cart with your friends. He knows that so far trying to be himself has had a zero percent success rate, so maybe it's time to try a different approach. He can be more of the guy he is when he's alone with his friends, emulating a much more masculine, fuckboy vibe. The worst that could happen has already happened, twice.

On the last hole, with a few more drinks of what Topper called "liquid courage", he flattens the creases out of his jeans and jogs up to catch up with you. "Hey, ladies- can I borrow Y/N for a sec?" He asks your friends, not waiting for a response before continuing. "Thanks- 'preciate it."

He strides up to you as you and your friends look between each other in confusion. This isn't the Rafe you normally know, who you've grown to have a crush on. You take a few steps away with him, but not enough to be out of earshot from your friends, they obviously know about your secret feelings for the boy, and would love to listen in.

"Hey, so, uh," He stammers a little, quickly trying to get back on track with his attitude. But the way you're looking at him with your big, beautiful eyes as you smile at him expectantly, nervously almost, is throwing him off. He's never been this confident around you. "My friend really likes you, but I told him I'd ask you out first to see if you're worth it." He smirks, shifting his weight on his feet.

Your face falls- and you look hurt. He feels a pang in his chest. He did this to you, maybe Kelce's advice was bad after all. Your friends gasp, obviously hearing everything. "That is the rudest thing I have ever heard!" Your best friend, Molly, yells at him, quickly stomping over to you while you try and figure out what to say.

"Is this some sick prank?" Molly says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and looking at you closely as you can't fight back the tears.

"I- wait, wait, no! I- I'm sorry I just-" Rafe tries to defend, shaking his head quickly and holding his hands up to the two of you.

"Get out of here, you prick!" She says, accentuating her desires by throwing her drink in his face.

Rafe wipes the drink out of his eyes, turning quickly and making a break for his friends. He can't save this situation now- he just had to escape.

"That was unbelievable!" Your other friend says as you get back to the golf cart, sitting down and wiping your tears.

"What a fucking loser." Molly adds, shaking her head as she watches him run away.

Rafe is met with his friends laughing hysterically at him, taking in the sight of his soaked polo shirt up close. "Dude- what did you say to her?" Topper laughs and Rafe grumbles as he sits in the cart, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Let's just go back to the club." He mutters, that same broom closet calling his name yet again.

Five:

No drinks, no pools, and now, no Molly. Rafe figures his best move at this time is to just text you. He doesn't have your number, not yet, but he does have your Instagram- and the DM feature seems like his most viable option, at this point.

rafecameron: hey, how are you?

yourinstagram: i'm good!! how are you?

Rafe is surprised he gets a response back so quickly, sitting up straighter at the kitchen island, where he's sitting eating his lunch.

rafecameron: i'm good. enjoying the summer so far. the weather has been perfect for wakeboarding.

God, the weather? Could he bring up anything more boring? He scolds himself mentally as he sees that she's typing, his leg bouncing a mile a minute on the stool he's sitting cross-legged on, his bowl of cereal left forgotten in front of him.

yourinstagram: that's awesome :) i haven't got much surfing or wakeboarding in this summer yet unfortunately, just haven't thought about it much i guess

At least she's trying to make small talk, Rafe assumes that's a good sign. It's perfect, actually- he can offer to take you out boating, especially if you haven't had the chance yet.

rafecameron: i have the boat tomorrow if you're free? we could grab drinks or something at the club after

Rafe sends the message and quickly places his phone upside down on the counter, but he can't resist lifting it again as soon as his phone buzzes.

He furrows his brow as he's seen you sent a photo. He opens the text thread, blood draining from his face when he sees the screenshot of this exact conversation pop up along with a message.

yourinstagram: *photo* yourinstagram: OH MY GOD MOLLS- I THINK RAFE IS ASKING ME OUT???

Clearly, that wasn't meant for him- but that doesn't make it any easier to read. He has to assume that's a bad thing- that you're trying to figure out, with the help of your best friend, how to let him down easily.

Rafe groans and tosses his phone back onto the counter, leaving it to go up into his windowless walk-in closet and take back that he texted you at all.

Six:

At the annual bonfire, Rafe is just wandering around looking for someone to talk to. His friends are busy throwing random things into the flames, seeing how high they could make the fire go. He lost interest very quickly. He's feeling down on his luck, after his five poor attempts at getting a date with you, even if no one else knows about any of them- not even you. Its embarrassment not fading, despite the summer passing quickly. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, everything happens for a reason, surely. That doesn't mean he wouldn't really like a chance.

He's standing at the keg, pouring himself another beer when he sees you. You're off, a little in the distance all alone, walking along the shore and occasionally crouching down. He's confused for a moment as to what you're doing, but then he realizes- you're collecting seashells. Of course you are. It makes him smile a little to himself. Everyone around him is so concerned about getting drunk, high, whatever their vice is- but you just want to do your own thing.

He hands his cup off to a kid standing nearby who gratefully takes it, and starts his way down the sand to join you.

"Finding anything good?" He asks as he approaches you.

You're quick to stand up, turning to face him. "Oh, Rafe! Hey." You smile, looking down at your now long empty solo cup, filled almost to the brim with small seashells and pretty rocks. "Yeah, here." You hold out the one you just picked up, dropping it gently into his hand.

He cups the small shell in his hand and smiles, looking up at you again. "It's beautiful." He agrees. "Can I help?"

"Sure." You smile, nodding as you look up at him. The light from the distant bonfire falls right behind him, shining through his hair and his unbuttoned striped shirt. "I don't have a lot of room left, though." You show him the cup.

"Well, you're probably better at finding them than me. I can hardly see anything." Rafe chuckles, shrugging a little as the two of you continue down the beach, the music getting more and more quiet with every ten steps. You can only really hear the waves crashing beside you, despite the water being mostly calm.

You're both silent for a minute or two, scanning the ground for more shells. Rafe's mind is running a million miles a minute. Now's his shot, he's doing better than before- he hasn't offended you, spilled a drink on you, or pushed you into the ocean, everything is calm and there's no one around. Maybe he should make small talk first, bring it up later if you still want to talk to him by the end of the night.

"How's your-"

"So, I-"

You both start talking at the same time, making you both laugh. You count yourself lucky that he can't see how red your face is.

"You go first." Rafe insists, ready to listen to whatever you have to say. He could listen to you talk about anything, for hours; he's sure of it. He could never tire of the sound of your voice.

"Okay, well," You giggle, looking down and picking up a shell you catch a glimpse of in the moonlight. "I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime. Go for coffee, or something like that."

Rafe stops walking, staring at you and fighting back smiling like a crazy person. You wanted to hang out with him? After all this time, after all the energy he's put into trying to ask you out, you would have said yes this whole time?

"Like... like a date?" He asks, mentally slapping his hand against his forehead and trying to remember where the nearest bathroom or closet might be.

"Yeah, I mean, if you want." You reply, turning to face him fully.

He looks over your features as you smile at him, how the ocean breeze has pushed your hair over one shoulder and how a few shorter strands fly around your face. He nods, mouth dry as he tries to find the words. "Yeah, yeah I would love that." He agrees. "I, uh, I was actually going to ask you the same thing." He says, looking down as he kicks away some sand.

"You were?" You giggle. God, the sound of your laugh alone makes his heart beat faster.

"I only tried about five times over the course of the summer, could never make it to actually talking to you, though." Rafe admits, laughing slightly.

"Why not? I don't scare you, do I?" You laugh, tilting your head at him and brushing some hair away from where it's gotten stuck to your lips in the wind.

"Not anymore." Rafe grins, continuing to talk past you and you turn with him, joining his side again as he turns the seashell you have him over in his palm. This time, he wants to relive this night for all the right reasons.

taglist: @bookishbabyyyyy @madelynie, @mutual-mendes, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @ragingsammie, @ietss

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fluff #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafecameron #rafe fanfiction #outer banks #obx

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jerzwriter · 9 days

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Mostly Pleasant Surprises 2 of 4 Discovery

This is the final installment of "how they finally got together." I promise. 😊

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick & Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,000

Series Summary: It's been months since the chemical attack, and "kind of" exes-turned-friends Tobias & Casey have been stubbornly denying their growing feelings for each other. But when a series of events threatens to come between them, will they find their way back together?

Part 2 Summary: A startling discovery fills Casey with doubt, just as Tobias comes to an important conclusion.

A/N: OK, again, there are like 2 people alive who may care about this, but I'm filled with so much joy as I'm finally writing this pivotal part of their tale. Let me tell you, there is something so freeing about writing solely for me and my blorbos. It's hard to describe! :)

I expect this to be told in four parts, though it may be three. I guess we'll find out with the next installment. :)

Series Masterlist || Tobias x Casey Masterlist Full Masterlist

Catch up here

Her.

It was... her. The too-pretty-to-be-human creature Casey nearly collided with at Kenmore, and if she made a pair of old scrubs look good, holy hell, the way she looked all dressed up. She was exquisite. Breathtaking. So much so that it took Casey a moment to notice the man sitting at her side...closely at her side... and that's when her heart began to race.

It... it can't be...

Her phone felt like a leaden weight in her trembling hand but flew like a feather when she pelted it across the couch as if its very touch would scorch her.

Is he... are they...

She was furious... furious at the situation, at him, but mostly with herself as her body began to shake and her breath quickened without her permission. She tried to steady herself as a million questions raced through her mind.

How did I not see this? How could I have been this stupid? Oh my God! Has he been seeing her all along? Did she know he was spending time with me?

She jumped to her feet, mindlessly pacing the length of the living room.

Of course, she knew! I'm that pathetic woman from the chemical attack. So fucked up she could barely leave the house. He felt guilty... he told me he felt guilty! No wonder he 'had' to help me. UGH. And I let myself fall for him—I let myself believe he was falling for me. Casey, you idiot!

She tried to convince herself that none of this mattered. She couldn't be heartbroken. We can't grieve for something we never had... can we? But when hot tears sprung to her eyes, one having the audacity to roll down her cheek, Casey grabbed her phone and retreated to her room. Crying herself to sleep felt like the only thing to do.

Did you really think he wasn't seeing anyone in all this time? He's Tobias Carrick, for fucks sake! But did I imagine it all? How close I thought we had become? We talk all the time... so why... why wouldn't he just tell me?

But as she flung herself onto her bed, the answer became vividly clear.

Because you're not dating. He's not your boyfriend, he's just your friend... and he doesn’t have to tell you a damn thing.

It hurt. It hurt like hell. She tried repeating the words over and over, hoping they might usher in an acceptance that would ease the tightness in her chest or the lump in her throat. But as she tripped over the conclusions she came to in her mind, it was apparent these would be her companions for some time. Her eyes screwed shut in the darkness and she hoped sleep would provide some respite, but then her door burst open.

“This doesn’t necessarily mean anything….” Sienna blurted, her own phone screen turning her face blue as she spoke. “I don't think this picture was taken tonight... it looks old to me."

Casey listened in dejected silence as her friend's voice grew more frantic with each word.

“He hasn’t commented on it... but I don’t think he’s been online. I looked at her account, though, and he hasn't interacted with her in ages. Like... not at all. But you... he interacts with you all the time... I think this is just a...”

“Si,” Casey interrupted. “When I left his Kenmore today, she went into his office after I left.”

“So? She works at Kenmore, too. That doesn’t mean….”

“It doesn't matter what it means," Casey gulped. "It's like I've been saying all along... we're just... we're just friends. And I'm an absolute idiot for letting myself think we could be anything more."

"Oh, Casey!" Sienna frowned. "That's not true! I know how much he cares for you, and before you jump to any conclusions, please, just talk to him."

“To say what? What can I say without sounding pathetic? No, I've been a fool too many times before. I'm not doing it again."

“Case... but...”

“No!” Casey snapped. “No. I’m not asking him. I’m not going to make myself look as ridiculous as I feel right now. I just... I just want to go to sleep.”

“All right,” Sienna replied sadly. “Can I at least get you ice cream? Or perhaps give you a hug?”

“A hug,” Casey sniffled. “A hug would be really nice.”

And a hug is what she received. Sienna held her friend close, refusing to leave until she had fallen fast asleep.

~~~~~

Eager for the long day to end, Tobias shut his laptop and placed it in his briefcase. He couldn't wait to get home. But as he went to turn off his desk light, he caught a glimpse of the time. It was only nine o’clock... not too late. Maybe they could get a quick drink at Donahue’s? It wasn’t out of the question, and then he could end his birthday the only way he really wanted to... with Casey. Taking a chance, he dialed her number, but the call went straight to voicemail. He leaned back with a sigh. She must have gone to bed early, so he let the idea go and hung up without leaving a message.

When his phone buzzed in his pocket just a moment later, a big smile spread on his face, but it wasn't Casey. Sasha, one of his closest friends, advised him to check Instagram at once. Given that she wasn't known for hyperbole, Tobias took heed, quickly scrolling through his feed until he saw it.

“Son of a bitch….” he spat as he rushed to the nurses' station.

“Where's Kenner?” he blurted upon approach.

“Audrey?” The night nurse asked.

“Do we have another Kenner?”

“I think she’s in the break room. I saw her going....”

Before she could finish the sentence, Tobias was on his way. Audrey sat alone, picking at her half-eaten salad when he arrived. Her face lit up the moment she saw him, but the spark didn't last long.

“What the hell is this?” He asked, holding his phone inches from her face.

“It’s me wishing you a happy birthday," she replied with as much confidence as she could muster, though the slight quiver in her voice belied the act.

“That's not all this is, Audrey. Why are you going out of your way to make it look like we’re together? You didn't do things like this when we were together. It makes no sense."

"I never posted pictures of us?" she challenged. "You know that's not true."

"And you know what I mean..." he countered, growing less amused by the second.

Knowing she could make it fairly believable, she considered spinning a tale; but when her eyes met his, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

“T, I… I don’t know why I did it. But if we're being honest, there was a time you wouldn’t have minded. Why is it such a big deal now?"

“Audrey,” his voice was full of sincerity as he pulled a chair up to the table. “I know our... thing... was on and off for years. But we've been off for a long time now. Have I given you any indication that I wanted to start up again?”

“No,” she chuckled sadly. “But maybe that was my way of letting you know that... perhaps I did.”

“Well... I’m flattered, but I don't want to reopen that door. So this post is a step too far, and I'd really like you to take it down."

“Fine,” she snapped, pulling her phone out of her pocket, but she stopped just before hitting delete. "But why does it matter so much? It's not like you're in a relationship, so what’s the harm of...” She let out a sigh and placed her phone on the table. “It’s the blonde... Casey. Isn't it?"

“What?”

“Don’t deny it, Tobias. You like to play down what we meant to each other, but I did come to know you pretty well over the past six years, and... I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Seen me like what?” He fidgeted nervously.

“Tobias, you've been... different. The gossip mill hasn't linked you to anyone in ages; you're hardly ever at the Puddingstone anymore...."

“Well, I just turned thirty-seven. Maybe the gossip mill finally grew bored with me, and I'm trying to grow up a little?"

“Pfft,” she chortled. “As if! I know you two dated, and then she dumped you before the attack at Edenbrook."

"Did you get that from the rumor mill?" he asked.

"Yep, and a pretty reliable source, at that! They also told me you've been spending a lot of time with her since the attack. Are you... together?"

"Together?" He sputtered. “No, we're not together. We're friends, that's all."

"I saw the look in your eyes when she came to visit today. That's not a look you give friends. Everyone's been saying you've been different lately... I can't help but think she's the reason why."

"Audrey, Casey means a lot to me, but we're not together, OK?"

"But you want to be. I can tell just by looking at you. I've always known you to go after what you want, even when you know it’s a dumb idea. So... what makes this different?"

“What makes this different?” he hummed. "What makes this different... I guess I’m a little frightened because this might be real, and I've never done real before."

Audrey smiled, surprised that this hurt a little less than she expected. Lifting her phone from the table, she deleted the post.

“There. It's down. I did my part, now why don't you do yours? Go talk to her, Tobias. I don't know if she saw it, but if she did, just tell her I’m some asshole, and she has nothing to worry about because... obviously, she doesn’t."

Audrey reached over and gently squeezed his hand with a smile. "Now, if you’ll excuse me... I have a shift to get back to.”

Tobias listened to Audrey's footsteps as they left the room and drifted down the hall, and when they were gone, there was nothing but silence. Silence and his thoughts—and he was blown away by how loud the latter could be.

He wasn’t stupid... he loved Casey. He’d known that for some time, but there was always a reason not to tell her. After the attack, he promised her... and everyone who knew her... that they'd just be friends. He had no ulterior motives, and he cared too much to overstep. But that was months ago now. Time, thoughts, hell, even kisses had been shared between them since then, and so much had changed. Still, for a hundred different reasons and in a hundred different ways, he was terrified.

But today was a special day. It isn't every day a man turns thirty-seven, and as he sat alone in a desolate break room, it became abundantly clear. The only reason he hadn’t made plans to celebrate his birthday this year was that there was no way for him to celebrate the way he wanted to—with Casey by his side.

He glanced at his phone. He knew she had an early shift tomorrow and needed her sleep, so waking her up was not an option. But it took all he had in him not to call. Remaining silent about his feelings was no longer an option. He didn't know what would happen when he told her, but he knew one thing for sure: He loved her, and that was something he couldn't keep to himself any longer. He took out his phone to send her a quick text...

He took a deep breath before rising to his feet, knowing this was a birthday he'd never forget. He had just taken the first step toward the future he desperately craved, and to his great surprise, all he felt was relief. A tiny smile came to his lips. The next time he saw Casey, he was finally telling her the truth, and now, that moment couldn't come quickly enough.

#open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #choices fanfic #playchoices #choices the stories you play #playchoices fanfic

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five-miles-over · 1 year

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The Forbidden Room - Part One

Summary: During a late night alone in the lobby of the Hotel Meister, you - a student at the University of Zurich - meet the charming night manager Mr.Jonathan Pine. And what starts out as simply two strangers getting to know each other turns into something more when Pine shows you a secret part of the hotel.

Warnings: Innocence/corruption kink, age gap (reader is of legal age, maybe 19?), sheltered reader has overprotective parents, mentions of strip poker, some comfort/fluff

Word Count: 4,234

"My name is Pine. I'm the night manager."

Sitting in the empty, luxurious lobby of Hotel Meister, you looked up from your hardcover copy of Henry V. You wore a little black dress, matching flats, and red-tinted lip balm, with your hair remaining as close as possible to its natural texture. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Pine." You offered the tall, blond man standing in front of you a smile.

"And you are…?" Jonathan's eyes traveled over your form, and his thin, pink lips reciprocated your smile.

You gave him your first name, crossing one leg over the other and placing the book in your lap.

"It's nearly eleven-thirty. What are you doing here by yourself?"

"Oh," you craned your head to glance at the gilded windows of the hotel. "I…I'm so sorry, I didn't realize the time. I…" You closed your eyes and shook your head. "I was here to have dinner at the restaurant, and after I finished, I was hoping for some time to read, and to enjoy the…the ambience of this place. Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late."

The night manager chuckled, and he glanced at the hardcover. "No need to apologize. Are you a big reader?"

You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, always was."

"You must be quite intelligent." After a moment, Jonathan sat next to you. "Are you here on holiday?"

"No," you gently corrected him, sharing that you were actually a student at the University of Zurich, studying history and political science.

Jonathan listened intently, his smile widening just a little. "So…what's a lovely, intelligent young woman doing here all alone tonight? No boyfriend or perhaps a date?"

You nervously chuckled. "Actually, I…I have never had a boyfriend before. Or have ever been on a date. No boy was ever interested in me like that."

He raised his eyebrows, and a small laugh escaped. "That's impossible. A young woman like you…pretty and smart. How could no one have noticed that? Unless…" Jonathan bit his lower lip. "Unless you're not interested in dating. How long have you been single?"

"My whole life?" You shrugged. "My parents were protective; I wasn't encouraged to have a boyfriend or date."

A more clear picture of you formed inside Jonathan's mind as you spoke: a picture of a young woman who was constantly guided to focus on her studies, someone who'd never gone to parties or dated people, someone with an innocent demeanor. "So you've been a good girl your whole life?"

"I…I was the good girl." You confessed. "Perhaps I still am." Leaning forward, you rubbed your knees underneath your dress. "My parents had a lot of rules growing up - no short clothes, no clothes that showed cleavage, no boyfriends, no dating, no sleepover, no swearing, no…running up and down the stairs, no crushes, no bold makeup, and screaming."

The night manager laughed. "And what did you do? Did you rebel, and break a few of those rules? Or were you a perfect girl, like a doll?” His glance flitted towards your hands and knees. “Let me guess…no tattoos or body piercings either?”

“None.” You shook your head with a small giggle. “"Though...there were a few times I used to go to school early, sneak into the bathroom before class started, and put on magenta lipstick behind my parents' back."

Jonathan laughed again, he was already beginning to adore you. "That's very naughty: putting on makeup behind your parents' back. Did they ever notice it?”

“No. If they did, they would’ve scolded me, asking why I would need lipstick for school.” You joined in his laughter, leaning against the leather couch in the hotel lobby. Never before had you felt so safe around an older man whom you'd barely known, yet there was something about this night manager that gave you the sense of protection, like nothing bad was going to happen to you under his watch. Maybe it was just because he was handsome, older, and charismatic. Or perhaps it was because this night manager was meant to be so much more.

“I bet wearing that lipstick made you feel quite free,” Jonathan surmised. “Tell me, darling…have you ever broken any other rules?”

“I…” You began, your cheeks growing hot. “I…once got caught reading an erotic book that my mum bought when I was twelve years old…I’m not really sure why she bought it, but I snuck into her closet to read bits of it in the morning while getting ready for school. And one morning, my father caught me.”

“And what did he say?” He chuckled, enjoying how comfortable you were to talk to him like this. “Did he get angry?”

“Yeah, he did. He loudly scolded me to stop filling my head with unnecessary things that polluted the mind, and to get ready for school.” You placed one hand over the other. “My mother also got upset with me for reading it, so you sat me down and lectured me about how erotica exploits women."

“They seem quite strict. Did you keep reading the book after they found out?” He tilted his head o the side, out of curiosity.

“It was my mother’s book. I…I don’t think I ever saw that book again, she probably hid it really well.”

“Perhaps that explains why you seem innocent.” Jonathan teased, a thin row of white teeth present as he smirked. “Your parents never let you do anything! I bet they never let you go to parties or go out to have a good time with a group of friends. You've never even drank alcohol or smoked a cigarette, have you?”

“No cigarettes or alcohol.” You shifted in your seat, crossing one foot over the other. “But I was allowed to go out with a few friends in high school to have ice cream. Only girls though, and my parents had already met those friends.”

“See!” Jonathan remarked. “Your parents were strict with you; your friends couldn't even be male. But you don't seem resentful of your parents, not at all. Why is that?” His playful demeanor shifted into an expression of curiosity.

You shrugged. “Maybe it's because I was given anything I needed. If I wanted a book my parents were willing to buy it for me. Of course it had to be something educational, not dirty. My parents took good care of me, and because of them, I have the privilege of going to a wonderful university.”

The night manager took a breath, relaxing into the couch. “Perhaps you’re right in that sense. But you never got to experience the parties, the dates, the kisses that are so typical of adolescent experiences. Don't the strict norms of your parents make you feel as if you've missed out on some things in life?”

“Sometimes…but it’s not like there was a line of boys waiting to date me or anything like that.” You laughed a little.

“Are you sure?” Jonathan’s lip reverted to a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it. You’re smart, pretty, and not at all rebellious as we’ve previously established. A girl like you would have made any boy crazy about her.” He leans forward a little. “Maybe they were just too scared to ask you.”

“Maybe.” You blushed, tapping the hardcover book in your lap. "I've talked a lot about myself, I'm sorry. I'm not very good at keeping secrets.”

The night manager chuckled, his cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement. “I love hearing from you, it's a pleasure. You’ve told me about your school days, your parents…even that you wore lipstick behind their backs. You’re not exactly shy.” Jonathan smiled and leaned back on the couch. "Now I think it's time for you to hear about me. What do you want to know?" Jonathan put his hands behind his head as he spoke your name for the first time.

You turned onto your side and ran a hand through your hair. “I want to know...what were you like as a boy, Mr.Pine?”

“Me?” Jonathan looked up, as if he were buying time for his next words. Then, he began to make up a backstory for himself, one that was akin to a young man from a privileged yet troubled background “I was…I happened to be a bit mischievous when I was a boy.” He tilted his head and assumed a jovial tone. “Always stirring up trouble, always getting into something.”

You giggled.

“That’s how I ended up in military school.” Jonathan continued, “There I got involved with a group of boys, and we had our own set of shenanigans.” “What did you do?”

“We…” the night manager narrated with a hint of bravado in his voice, “stole, like a merry little band of thieves. We used to steal from our superiors’ stash of alcohol, even before we were of legal age to be drinking.”

Continuing to giggle, you gazed at him. Just the way he told these things with such conviction made you believe that he was truly someone who’d seen the world, someone who’d been through more things than you could even imagine.

"I swear, we didn't just steal alcohol. Guns, watches, souvenirs,… you name it and we could steal it." A mischievous smile crossed his face. "Do you want to know the biggest thing we ever stole?"

You nodded eagerly. “Was it an antique?…A tank?”

Jonathan grinned. "No, nothing like that. No, when I was about fifteen or sixteen, my friends and I stole a car - our lieutenant’s car: a nice, new black Corvette. It was risky but we took it at night and went on a joyride in the streets of Dover. It was the best night of our lives.”

With a gasp, you burst into a fit of giggles that made Jonathan’s heart melt. To him, yours was the type of smile that would make someone do a million things just to see that smile reappear. “Wow! Did you..” You bit your lip to stop laughing . “Did you break any speed limits?”

“Of course. We were practically kids,” Jonathan explained. “We went over 160 kilometers per hour a few times, we even had a few shots of vodka while we were driving. Stupid, yeah, but the adrenaline…it was incredible.”

“Did you get pulled over by a police officer?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes. You’re a smart girl.” The night manager admitted, “We got caught by the police and our lieutenant in charge had to come and get us from the station. I remember him yelling at me like never before, I had never seen him like that, it was terrifying.” Jonathan laughed and shook his head. “We were sentenced to corporal punishment for a month, but it was worth it.”

You giggled, still leaning against the couch. “So…how did you grow up? I’m assuming you don’t race cars or steal alcohol anymore.”

“Not anymore.” Jonathan took a deep breath and rested his head against his hand. “I grew older, and eventually had to stop being irresponsible.” “What made you realize that you didn’t want to race cars and steal booze anymore? Was it...when you turned of legal age, and you could have alcohol?”

Jonathan clicked his tongue. “"That's a good question. Well... it was not only when I turned of age, it was... it was when I realized that I could die. I lost someone close because of alcohol. And when I was deployed across the globe, and nearly lost my life in combat several times. That’s when I realized that life is much more." Jonathan said quietly, a serious expression on his face.

Your smile disappeared. "I'm so sorry, Mr.Pine. I...I couldn't even imagine what that must be like.” You took a breath, straightening yourself. "So...what does life mean to you now?”

"Life... life is a gift. I always try to do the right thing. To do something that impacts others or leaves a small mark on the world.” Jonathan simply said with a small, charismatic smile. "To try to be happy without hurting anyone, and maybe help others along the way. I think that's what life is all about.”

You looked into his eyes with amazement. How could such a wonderful man be so real? “That’s really brave of you to say, Mr. Pine.”

Johnathan eyed you for a moment, and replied. “I have a feeling you’re pretty brave yourself. After all, you moved away from home to study at the University of Zurich, that’s not easy. And you’re here all by yourself in a hotel lobby past eleven-thirty at night.” He stood up from the couch and offered you his hand. “Follow me, I want to show you something.”

You blinked, wrapping your fingers around your book. “W-w-where…where are we going?” Your legs shaking and your heart pounding inside your chest, you stood up and cautiously followed the night manager.”Mr. Pine, where are we going?”

"You'll see soon enough...." Jonathan said with a devious smile as he walked further and further away from the lobby without saying a word.

You shuffled your feet behind him, holding your book in one hand and glancing at the artwork that lined the opulent hallways. Finally, you and Jonathan reached a door near the staff room at the very back of the hotel lobby. Without a word, Jonathan opened the door at the back of the lobby, led you down a flight of dusty stairs, and near a small door at the end of the staircase revealing a room. Inside the small, dimly-lit room were filing boxes, dust and some old furniture: a coffee table, two sofas, one small fridge, and a bedroom. "Welcome to the hotel's basement. This is where the... more private activities happen," he introduced with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Private activities?" you trembled, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Taking a few steps, you glanced around to find no window in sight, no way of escaping except for the door, which Jonathan closed with a click.

Jonathan leaned against the door. “Yes. Private activities. It’s the hotel’s forbidden room, the one place where clients can be sure no one can find out what they’re doing. No one other than the staff, of course.” He crossed his arms, and let out a small, darker chuckle. “Perhaps you can imagine what kind of activities they might be up to in a room like this.”

You swallowed. “Drug deals?…Smuggling.” Your knuckles whitened as you held onto the hardcover book in your hand, while your free hand stroked your own arm in a self-soothing manner.

The night manager smiled and walked towards you. “No. Those aren’t the activities that I had in mind.” His tone turned a bit more flirtatious. “Why don’t you have a seat, darling?”

The word rolled off his tongue like honey, and all of a sudden, you were reminded why you felt so…comfortable around this man. Despite having known him for a few hours - what time was it even?- you felt as if you could tell him anything, and that he would keep you safe.

“Come on.”

You sat down on the edge of one of the couches, your eyes following his every move with curiosity. “Gambling?”

“Sometimes, but that’s not the most popular thing to take place in this room.” Jonathan laughed, standing an arm’s length from you. “Be honest,” he gently said, calling you by your name, “and tell me what you think happens in a hotel’s forbidden room.” Jonathan looked into your eyes with a hint of seduction. “Don’t be scared, darling. I won’t hurt you.”

After a few moments of silence, you answered with a thick swallow. “Adultery.”

“Something like that.” With a smile, Jonathan placed his hand on your upper arm. “This room is ideal for... discreet affairs. The clients can come with their lovers or mistresses and have a good time with them without anyone knowing. And the staff is sworn to secrecy - they won’t tell a soul. This room is a safe heaven for all those forbidden and hidden romances.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt a slight tingling in your lower stomach, butterflies perhaps. “If it’s supposed to be forbidden, how do people come to know about it without…getting the hotel in trouble? Does the hotel owner know about this?” Your voice grew quieter with every question.

“A forbidden romance can’t be incriminated in this city.” Jonathan simply said, rubbing a circle along your arm. “And because only certain people know about this secret, those who frequent the inner circles of the hotel’s patrons. A rule that the staff and I never break: what happens in this room stays in this room. No words spoken, no information given, no clues.” The night manager smiled. “And do you know what happens when that rule is broken?”

You rifled through your mind, thinking about what you already knew about famous gangsters and their affairs, which probably took place in seedy hotel rooms and luxurious private lounges .“They’re silenced.”

His smile faded. “Exactly.” He leaned in, close enough that you could see the incandescent light of the room reflected in his ocean blue irises. “Now…can I trust you to respect the one rule of this room? Can I trust that you'll never mention anything about what happens in this room?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and watched as Jonathan let go of your arm and sat down on the other sofa. “You can..You can trust me, Mr. Pine. But tell me why we’re here.”

“I didn’t want you sitting in the lobby all night, a place open to the public. This way, you’ll have a bit more privacy without having to take one of the guest rooms. Now,” he began, “let me tell you what kind of activities I had what kind of activities I had in mind for this room. And if you like them, we’ll do them. Alright?”

Placing your book on the coffee table, you nodded. “What did you have in mind, Mr. Pine?”

“Well... first I was going to invite you to drink some champagne with me. To celebrate our new friendship and to make sure you're relaxed.” Jonathan stood up and walked to the small fridge "Then... I was thinking that we could start with a game of strip poker. If you lose a round, you have to take off one piece of clothing. And we'll see where that takes us." Jonathan said with a flirtatious smile. "Sounds good?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know…”

Jonathan continued to smile, confident that he could get you to change your mind. “What if you win? What if I'm the one that has to take off a piece of clothing?” He opened the fridge and reached inside it, grabbing a bottles of champagne. "Come on. You only live once, darling. It's time to do something dangerous and live a little. And this is the perfect place for it, don't you think?”

“But…why me?” You quietly asked, looking up at him with shaking hands. “Why…why would you do this? Bringing me here of all places?”

The night manger set the bottle of champagne down, and his demeanor morphed into a caring one, almost protective. He put his hands in the pockets of his blazer, and gazed upon you as if you were a rare, exquisite piece of living art.

“Because I think you’re someone special, darling. I think you're smarter and braver than you think you are. I have a gut feeling that says we're going to get along and understand each other. I like talking to you, I believe that we could have... something special. And if you let me, I want to show you a night you'll never forget.” Approaching you again, the night manager brushed the back of his finger along your shoulder. His eyes seemed to soften from their striking ocean hue to a soft shade of pale blue. “I want you to have fun, experience new things, to live a little.” He took a step towards you. “Would you let me make this night unforgettable for you, darling?”

You blinked, and harshly bit the inside of your cheek, your heart racing at the infinite possibilities of what could unfold throughout the night. Would there be more people involved? Was something illegal going to happen?

“Yes, Mr. Pine.” You uttered.

With a rakish smile, Jonathan took the champagne bottle and opened it with a loud pop. The bubbles freely flowed from the bottle until the night manager filled two clear flutes with the golden liquid. Then, he offered you one of the glasses. “To a special night,” he declared with a soft theatricality in his voice, raising the other glass.

That damn smile was enough to make you wrap your fingers around the stem of the glass, clink it against his, and raise it to your lips. “Cheers.” You took a sip of the golden liquid, sucking your lips in while the alcohol trickled down your throat. “It’s…it’s bitter,” you admitted, “but it’s good.”

Jonathan took a drink as well. “That's the effect of alcohol: the first time it tastes bitter and even repulsive. But sooner or later, you discover that it's not so bad. Some people start to enjoy it…others, not so much.” He took another gulp and emptied the contents of his glass. “Just be slow with your drink, take your time. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. Alright, darling?”

You nodded. Your fingers crept towards the rim of the champagne glass as Jonathan knelt before you. He took your free hand in his, looked into your eyes with a sincere expression, and murmured your name. “I think you’re very beautiful.” His large, pale fingers stroked the back of your knuckles. “Would you let me give you a kiss?”

You took another sip and gently set the glass aside. Never had you been kissed before and yet here you were, alone with one of the most charming men you had ever seen in real life. And this man, this elegant variant of a man was asking to kiss you.

“Just a kiss,” you agreed, leaning towards the night manager. Closing your eyes, you felt his lips, slightly chapped, delicately brushed against yours.

The kiss started off sweet and affectionate, as delicate as a feather, but soon Jonathan’s fingers reached for your hair and pulled you closer. His lips pressed harder against yours, allowing him to savor the aftertaste of champagne on your lips while his fingers rested on your soft cheeks. After a few moments, you leaned back on the couch and allowed Mr.Pine to take control. He grabbed your waist with his free hand and you put your arms around his broad shoulders, your fingertips enjoying the crisp fabric of his blazer. A little intoxicated by the champagne and a pleasure you never thought you desired, you couldn't help but admire how easily he could overpower you.

“Mr. Pine…” You breathed after a few moments, breaking the kiss for air. As Jonathan pulled apart from you, you licked your lip, hoping you could catch the aftertaste of his lips.

The night manager blushed as he watched you recover. “Now, for the next part of our night…a game of poker,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, already a bit excited about the game. “Do you know how to play?”

“I know how to play poker,” you answered, straightening yourself. “I learned how to when I was fourteen, some family friends taught me.”

He nodded. “In this game of poker, we can use anything as a bet: a kiss, an article of clothing, a touch... whatever comes to our minds. But only one rule applies: the loser has to do what the other person asks, no questions asked. Are you okay with it?” Jonathan asks, his voice getting slower and more seductive with each word.

“Okay.” You climbed off the couch and sat on the floor, in front of the old, worn-out coffee table. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to play poker - a game you’d only seen among grown-ups in real life and mafia men in films. And now instead of watching them with awe, you were going to play for the first time. “Do you know where the cards are?”

Jonathan smiled and walks to a nearby cabinet, opening the rickety door to find a dusty box. "They're right here.” He opened the box and fished out two decks of cards, taking one and shuffling them in his hands several times."I give you the deal, do you want to cut the deck first?”

"Sure." You split the deck of cards into two halves, lifting one half of the cards and placing it face down next to the other half.

Jonathan picked the deck of cards, holding it in his hands. "Here's how we play this game: it's just a simple poker, five cards for each one of us. The person who has the most points wins and he gets to choose the bet of the next round. Do you want to deal the first hand or should I?”

Part Two

Tagging: @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @lovelysizzlingbluebird @evelyn-kingsley @omgsuperstarg @holdmytesseract @lokidbadguy @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @anukulee

#tom hiddleston #jonathan pine imagine #jonathan pine x reader #jonathan pine #the night manager #the night manager fanfiction #tom hiddleston character x reader #tom hiddleston character #tom hiddleston characters #jonathan pine fic #jonathan pine x you

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razorblade180 · 8 months

Text

Whispers in droplets

More of this <- I guess?

It was another calm night in the nation of Hydro. Warm street lights cut through the darkness on every corner while the bustling sound of rushing water had become a source to soothe wary souls to a good nights rest. Furina wished she was one of those people.

All by her lonesome, she stepped rhythmically on every painted brick on the way to the Opera House, her gaze fixated on the ground. Though she lived for the performances, a piece of her also found it calming to be in the grand, empty hall with its lustrous curtains closed; no performances to a n audience had its own since of beauty in her eyes that were currently a little puffy and pink. By now, even the energetic Charlotte had to going to bed, which was good. Furina couldn’t bear the thought of an unwanted picture of citizen capturing her in such a pathetic state of-

“Focalor?”

A voice called out, causing her to jolt upright out of her trance. What was a the muffled sound of water became crystal clear as the young adventurer who sat up against the fountain. Furina’s heart nearly stopped. Of all fountains, it had to The Fountain of Lucine that Aether sat against. She quickly recovered from her internal fear but failed to be as in character as she would’ve liked.

Furina:W-Well well… aren’t we a night owl? To think I’d see you here even later than usual. Plotting a scheme no doubt.

Aether:I thought you learned your lesson about baseless accusations.

Furina:Excuse me!? If you’re referring to Mr. Lyney’s prosecution, we both know it was far from baseless. Even if I hadn’t uttered a word he’d still be questioned, given the fact a crime happened that was during the show! My bold declaration merely expedited the process towards the inevitable truth. Though I’ll admit….the twists and turns along the way were indeed…unexpected.

Aether:I’d say you’re putting that mildly, but I don’t anyone, not even a god, would’ve predicted that nonsense accurately. The crime spanned decades after all.

Furina:Well…I agree, I suppose. *deflates* Though a couple decades in comparison to centuries of life makes my assumption laughable at best. Anyways, why are you here of all places? You of all people must know it wouldn’t do you any good to be around the water system so casually given recent events. Neither Neuvillette nor I would expect you of foul play or tampering, but you’re still a foreigner with trust to earn.

Aether:Can’t argue with that. Unfortunately for me, I’ve been accused of crimes while having even less suspicious behavior. *stretches arms* I couldn’t really sleep, so now I’m here.

Furina:Most decide to take a proper walk or eat something to soothe the body and mind.

Aether:Well I’m not exactly most people. Turns out I’m pretty sensitive to the hydro element. When l can’t sleep , I come here to listen to the water and the secrets they share~

No amount of practiced theatrics could remove the shock in Furina’s eyes. Aether could see her fists tense slowly and despite her attempts to stand tall, she looked a little less composed.

Furina:Secrets you say? What kind of secrets exactly?

Aether:..*smiles* Can’t say. If they wanted to be known, they would. It’s like you said, I have trust to build, so the secrets stay with me.

Furina:…*grins* Ha! Very well then. I suppose I can’t drag them out of you.

Aether:You sure perked up quickly. Though I guess it’s a good thing. It looks genuine.

Furina:Genuine, you say? Heh…

She approached Aether and sat down beside him, going as far as to remove her hat as she gently leaned against his arm. She didn’t care if he could see the redness under her eyes, wrinkles on her clothes, or the frizzled strands of hair that weren’t befitting of a god.

Furina:Pardon my proximity, but I’m rather tired tonight. Or…I suppose I should say I’m tired most nights.

Aether:That’s fine. I’m tired too. I thought you had some place to be, or at least that’s what it looked like?

Furina:I did, however…*closes eyes* I enjoy company; even if it’s yours.

Aether:You were so close to being sweet.

Furina:Gotta keep you on your toes. Seriously, I do enjoy this little moment. Though I hope you do understand you can’t go blabbering about this to anyone.

Aether:Heh, what’s one more secret between us?

#genshin impact #gi furina #gi aether

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herrlindemann · 1 year

Photo

Oor - September 2004, Interview with Richard

Three years after Mutter, Rammstein comes back with Reise, Reise with a more human sound. Guitarist Richard Kruspe explains why open laughter is allowed.

Has Rammstein gone soft with Reise, Reise? Not exactly given the criticism of first singe Mein Teil and the accompanying video clip. But the Berlin group has certainly changed. Look at those pictures. The militaristic and post-apocalyptic poses have given way to a more comical image. They have shot a few more series: at the edge of a swimming pool, on the beach, in the sauna and in a bullfighting arena. And listen to Amerika, and Amore, and Reise Reise’s title track. They are accessible and infectious tracks with a victim (see box). Self-awareness Richard Kruspe calls it. In 2004, Rammstein dares to take a step back from himself.

Los is Kruspe's favorite new song. It is also the clearest thing that Reise, Reise is a different album than Sehnsucht (1997) and Mutter (2001). Kruspe wrote it for Mutter, but it was shelved until they decided to play the riff acoustically. "It's not what you would expect from a German band, especially not from this German band. It is a simple, AC/DC-like riff, which gives a bluesy feeling when played acoustically. It's unlike anything we've done before," says Kruspe. And yet Rammstein, unmistakably.

“We decided that a few things had to be changed when making this album. For me personally, this first and foremost meant that work had to be less tense. Previously, the aggression in the music was paramount and the mutual friction in the band was also an important factor in the recording process. This time we consciously tried to leave the egos outside the door more. Give each other a little more space. And I think that's why this album sounds a bit more human than its predecessors. We used fewer machines, which was also a goal in itself. The live feeling had to be there. No more having to figure out our own songs afterwards, because we've been cutting and pasting too much.

We used to be more on each other's skin because… everyone had their hang-ups and because in a band with six people you just have clashing characters. Rammstein has no leader. All six of us are equal, which means that each of us fights for his place and there are sometimes endless discussions. That causes problems. In fact, it can lead to major crises. At the time of Mutter I had very clear ideas about how the music should and should not sound. I was pretty rigid about that, but luckily at some point I realized I had to let go of that and see the whole picture — a dynamic six-man group. It was a particularly intense period, in which I finally decided to live in New York, I literally had to distance myself.”

Kruspe was not alone in struggling with his place in the democratic whole that is Rammstein. Each band member has opted for a form of self-therapy.

"Of course it's quite a bit. Over the years you get a certain vision of your work and your music, which does not necessarily correspond to that of the five others. Just deal with that. When I once started the project — because Rammstein was a project, I didn't have a permanent band in mind — my starting point was that I wanted to work with similar musicians. Everyone has the same input. It has remained that way and gradually no one has ever allowed himself to be commanded by another. Maareh… There is always a kind of chemistry between people. Men, women, it doesn't matter. With the six of us, that chemistry is quite explosive.”

This means that Rammstein is standing at the mixing desk in the studio. "You! More bass! More guitar! More drums! That's really how it goes. That's why we also need a producer [for Reise, Reise was just like on the three previous studio albums Jacob Hellner]. He gets twenty, thirty percent more out of the songs. And the work would never get done otherwise. What we do notice, now, after ten years, is that some of us have become less fanatical. Not everyone has an opinion on every aspect of music. Can't either. But to admit that you have to turn off your ego. Well, that has now happened. For the new album we wrote more as a band. That is different from before and that is important, because when you write as a band, it is easier to discuss. »

Kruspe does not discuss the lyrics: “Till actually writes poems, not lyrics. Sometimes they fit, sometimes they don't. That is simple. Some of his poems have nothing to do with my feelings, but have such a strong story that I can go along with it completely. It helps that I've known Till for about eighteen years. I know where a text like Stein um Stein comes from. A man who bricks up his wife because he doesn't want to lose her. The biggest problem for a human being is letting go. That even plays a role in Mein Teil. To give things away, to renounce, to distance myself. Very difficult: Such a theme means that I can identify with that text. That's enough.”

A project, then, was Rammstein initially. Kruspe once shared a flat with Oliver Riedel and Christoph Schneider. Together they began to develop musical ideas, without any suspicion of worldwide success. Second guitarist Paul Landers, Till Lindemann and keyboardist Christian 'Flake' Lorenz later joined them; the latter only under the necessary pressure.

Kruspe: “With Mutter, Rammstein has made a big leap, especially in Europe. We have become a stadium band. But we never thought about any success. It started with an idea. We wanted to try everything. Success or no success, grow big or stay small, that did not occur to us. A band has its own dynamics, which you cannot plan. When we got success that was nice, but what do you do with it? A man must follow his intuition. Even if after ten years you are no longer as free as when you started, you should still try to keep working from a certain naivety. Switch back to the time when you were open-minded about your music. It was Picasso who said later in life that it would take him all his life to paint like a child again. That's it: learn everything and forget it again. We try and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Of course you can't take it too literally, because you grow as a person and you are always influenced by new things. But it is a good starting point.”

That said, Rammstein is not enough for any of the members to fully satisfy creativity. Kruspe doesn't want to limit himself, so he puts some of the music he writes aside for other projects. “New York helps me with that. When I'm there, I'm not so overpop Rammstein. And that makes it easier for me to write and play. In a sense, I've already put this album behind me and I'm working on new ideas. I'm working on now… I can't say too much about it. Not a band, but a nice project that will interest people.”

Reise Reise’s second single, is Amerika, with the irresistibly jolly chorus 'We’re all living in Amerika, Amerika ist wunderbar' (later it becomes 'We're all living in Amerika, Coca-Cola, Wonderbra').

“The claim that Germans have no humor is outdated. Germany has become self-aware in the last decade — and humor comes when one develops self-awareness. Amerika comes directly from our band humor. It's not a political statement, we don't do that.

I believe that everything in life should be in balance. You don't eat a whole cake, a piece is enough. A look at America shows us that there is a lot out of balance there. America controls the whole world and that is a bit too much. But it's not a black and white story. It is also the people themselves, in the US and abroad. I remember the first time I drank Coca-Cola. Dude, that was cool. It tasted good, it felt good, the marketing of that brand worked perfectly for me. Isn't that nice? It's just well done. Now I know how much sugar is in it, how bad it is for you. I make a choice. Anyone can do that. Coca-Cola, Hollywood… It doesn't take that much effort to look beyond that.”

Rammstein made his breakthrough in America with Sehnsucht. David Lynch used the group in his movie Lost Highway and a Lollapalooza tour did the rest. Kruspe: “I think that the theme and the visualization of Sehnsucht came at just the right time for many American young people. However, in America everything moves very quickly. You can suddenly be successful, but you can also forget it in no time. An American band therefore has to tour endlessly, visit radio shows, make a noise. As a German band that is impossible, because you already put a lot of energy into your own country and Europe. When we toured for Mutter, we found that we simply had no strength left to restart the whole story in America as well. Plus, after September 11, 2001, America took a much more restrained attitude towards foreign groups. Patriotism was rampant, even when it came to pop music. Now it could come again. Rammstein has a certain cult status. Rammstein is cool, you know. And in Germany it helps if you prove yourself in the US. They look at you differently. America remains the largest music market; if you grow up in Europe, you want to go there. Not for the music itself. Interesting trends and developments have long ceased to come from the States.”

At the time of their first album Herzeleid (1995), Rammstein was a band from 'the former East Berlin'. Today those words hardly have any value. Kruspe has seen Berlin change. West Berlin was a different world. The capital of darkness. A dark, depressive atmosphere. “When I ended up there, I didn't feel comfortable at all. [Kruspe fled east to west via Hungary and Austria shortly before the fall of the wall.] Yes, West Berlin was substantially Easier than East Berlin. Now you can also find a lot of merriment in the city. East and West have drawn together and that gloom that David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Nick Cave deliberately sought out is largely a thing of the past. I am someone who quickly feels at home somewhere. Not in the sense of family or friends, but in a general sense. In New York it is easy to get to know people, but it is very difficult to make friends. The city has so much energy, which I don't feel in Berlin. In New York, capital of the world, you want to go out and feel part of something bigger, of a whole. You feel lonely in your apartment. In Berlin, the capital of Germany, the situation is reversed. There you feel lonely when you walk on the street and it is nice to be at home. Now I still fly back and forth. A month here, a month there, so I can't say I feel completely at home in New York yet. I am someone who tries to live intuitively. I went from the countryside to the Berlin suburbs, then to Berlin itself, now to New York… I am a wanderer. After 25 years in and around Berlin, I also feel the call of other places.”

Back to Los for a moment. What sets that song apart from the rest of Rammstein's repertoire is the primal feeling that emanates from that acoustic riff. For once no associations with drinking and sea shanties, but American roots. Still, Kruspe says, "I've never been a fan of American rock culture. I liked English hard rock much more than American hard rock. Only with bands like Faith No More and 24-7 Spyz did I start listening to Americans. Metal itself bored me. The aggression of Metallica, for example, appealed to me, but I went more for the melodies of Judas Priest. What do I find nice Americans now? Queens Of The Stone Age. Dave Grohl. But I listen more to the latest Killing Joke, or the Cure.

My own guitar sound is very metal. Why? Well, why do men prefer to ride a Harley… A metal guitar wall is the best thing there is. I get rid of my inner aggression with it. But you won't see me fiddling for hours on all kinds of guitar loops, I find that boring. I once studied guitar for a year or two to get better, but don't ask me about my guitar heroes. I find Depeche Mode's Martin Gore infinitely more inspiring than any guitarist.”

#Rammstein #Richard Kruspe #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake #Christoph Schneider #Oliver Riedel #interview #translation #2004 #*scans

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grrlsoft · 2 years

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ take my breath away : eddie munson

summary : the infamous Eddie Munson, hardcore metalhead and your eccentric best friend, takes you to prom - shenanigans (as well as feelings) ensue.

pairing : Eddie Munson x f!reader

author's note : yes this song has been trending since its in topgun BUT pls pls pls listen to take my breath away by berlin while reading this it rlly adds to the experience. gotta love that 80s schmaltz <3

warnings : none, really! sfw, some kissing, reader and Eddie are oblivious and VERY in love. also typos probably. thats all!

this fic is spoiler free !!

you don't know how you had managed to get here.

never in your high school life would you have imagined that you would be at prom, dancing the night away in the arms of someone who you actually liked. you never thought that you would be asked to prom by anyone in the first place. this wasn't like family reunions in which you danced awkwardly with your second cousin in the living room, no; this was different. sort of like the movies, although the lighting isn't as pretty.

but the thing that is the most unbelievable of it all was that you are in the arms of your very handsome metalhead friend, the Eddie Munson.

you rest your head on his broad shoulder and sigh wistfully, hoping you wouldn't get any makeup on his black suit. you smile as he jitters at your sudden action. his strong arms are hooked around your waist and you hum quietly as he fiddles with the fabric of your velvety dress. you can feel his heartbeat, fast and loud, like a little bird caged between his ribs. you wonder if he was nervous, as nervous as you were.

the whole night you had been shaking. when he showed up at your house in his beat up van you practically fainted when you saw him. you had never seen him look so…formal. you laughed at how stiffly he stood and he told you to knock it off while suppressing a grin.

you swore that the smile on your face when your mother took a picture of the two of you could've split your face in half.

the ride to the school was awkward, filled with nervous silences that resulted in the two of you trying to speak at the time. conversations with the brown haired boy had never really been awkward like this before, but something in the air made it different.

after a while, Eddie finally caved and began to blast Metallica, making sure his windows were rolled down so everyone could hear it, which you were glad about - that way he couldn't hear how loud your heart was beating. his van smelled like weed (per usual) and he drove just a few miles over the speed limit, but you didn't mind. you were too busy fixing your hair in the rear-view mirror to care.

once the two of you finally got there, Eddie immediately started to complain about the music selection.

"this is all just schmaltzy pop garbage," he had stated as he folded his arms, his exasperation and disappointment abundantly clear.

"well, what did you expect?" you quirked a brow at him, "Black Sabbath?"

"yes!" Eddie had exclaimed and you laughed.

but once girls on film came on over the crackly speaker, you couldn't help but drag Eddie out onto the dance floor. you had never danced in front of so many people before, but being with him made the anxiety of doing such a thing melt away.

his dancing was atrocious and you were sure that yours was too, but that made it all the more fun. the two of you screamed the lyrics to your favorite tunes and booed when songs that were less than pleasing started to play. he spun you under his arm so many times that you began to think that you may get sick. he later challenged you to a competition of who could eat the most brownies at the snack table.

he won.

and now you were here, resting gently in his embrace as take my breath away by Berlin plays. the sweet melody echoes throughout the gymnasium of Hawkins High and many teenage couples sway to its beat. you close your eyes and grab one of Eddie's hands, a bold move on your part, intertwining your delicate fingers with his own.

"I don't like this song," Eddie murmurs into your ear. your heart speeds up involuntarily as you feel his hot breath on your neck.

"I think it's cute," you hum softly, and Eddie groans. "you're just cynical."

"you know me," Eddie drawls. "it's not any fun if it isn't rock."

you shake your head and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. you drown in the smell of his cologne (which is definitely new and surely something he wore just for this occasion) and you never want this moment to end.

he pulls back suddenly, forcing you to look up at him. you stare into his deep brown eyes, his pupils so wide that you can almost see your reflection in them. you watch as his gaze moves from your own eyes down to your cherry colored lips. you flush darkly and look away.

Eddie leans down slightly but you don't notice until you turn your head back to face him and your nose brushes against his. his grip on you tightens slightly and he pulls you further into him. you can feel his warm breath fan across your face and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. he blinks rapidly and averts his gaze from yours.

"sorry," he mumbles, clearly nervous, "it's just like- you're so- you're really fucking pretty. like it's kind of unreal."

your eyes widen and your face burns even more than it did before. you're sure that your cheeks were probably glowing red in the hazey blue light of the gymnasium.

he turns his head to look at you again and you can't manage to get any words to form in your brain or in your throat. you're too stunned to even say thank you.

Eddie's brows furrow and he presses the back of his hand against your cheek. the cool metal of his rings is cold against your skin, but you welcome it.

"jesus, you're burning," he says, worry lacing his words, "you wanna go outside?"

all you do is nod as he takes your hand and guides you out of the gymnasium, through the school hallways and finally out into the parking lot. the two of you perch yourselves on the curb and stare up into the black sky, stars dotting its inky depths.

the two of you don't say anything to each other for a long while, feeling almost too scared to do so. you fidget with the beaded friendship bracelet that Eddie had given you so long ago (he's wearing his matching one as well) and you bite the skin off of your lips. you shiver in the cold night air and Eddie takes notice of this, slowly scooting over to you and pressing his arm to yours. you look up at him, dazed, and he smiles sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything," the words tumble from his mouth suddenly, "when we were dancing, I mean. I didn't mean to- to make things weird."

you stare at him in shock. you couldn't believe what he was saying to you.

"you didn't make things weird," you assure firmly, now realizing you were making it sound like you liked it too much (which you did, but you would never let him know that), "it was…it was nice."

you want to say something more than just nice, but you're too frightened, feeling you'll make the conversation even more awkward than it already was.

weird was the last word you would use to explain how you and Eddie were previous to this moment. you loved it; the feeling of his arms around you, your hands on his chest and both of your eyes locked on each other. everyone else in the room had disappeared; leaving just you and him. he felt like the only thing that mattered. he was warm and safe and he felt like home, a home you never wanted to part from.

"okay good because I thought I had like- done something to make it weird," Eddie says, laughing forcefully. you muster a smile, but it's to no avail. the moment is over.

Eddie notices your change in demeanor and frowns, now worried that he's messed something else up. he presses himself against you a little more.

"thank you," you murmur suddenly. he looks at you with confusion in his eyes.

"for what?" he asks. you turn your gaze to him, your eyes sparkling in the silver moonlight. his heart flutters.

"for saying that I'm pretty," you admit bashfully, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

Eddie blinks. he's surprised that you're thanking him for such a simple compliment. he didn't realize how much it had meant to you until now.

"well shit, it's true," he shrugs, acting as if it's nothing at all, "I'll say it to you every day if that's what you'd like."

Eddie's words make your heart leap in your chest.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that," you whisper, trying your best to stay cool and collected.

you jitter as his hand meets your cheek, bringing your face to his own. he looks sincerely into your eyes.

"yeah?" he whispers back. you unsuccessfully stifle a smile.

his fingers are slightly rough, his avid guitar playing making them calloused and hard, but you lean into his touch regardless.

"yeah," you nod.

he swipes his thumb across the skin of your cheek and looks down at nothing. he clears his throat and looks back up at you, eyes flitting from your own to your lips.

"can I, uh, can I tell you something?" he mumbles unsurely. you nod profusely and he laughs breathily.

"uh, well, the thing is- uhm," his head spins as he tries to get the words out, but he has to. he doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't. he can't go on any further without telling you how he feels.

"I sort of have a massive crush on you."

there's a long silence and the noise of the music leaking out from the gym becomes even more distant than it was before.

his words hit you like a whirlwind, or more like a truck driving straight into you. you freeze, your heart dropping into your stomach as you clutch your dress with trembling hands. you stare at him owlishly, disbelief covering your face.

you haven't answered his statement and it's been ten whole seconds. Eddie regrets saying anything at all.

"shit. uh. yeah okay I know it's dumb but like jesus christ you're just so pretty and you- you like overwhelm me? not in a bad way but your so- god I just had to tell you otherwise I'd like, fuckin' combust or something-" the words leave the brown haired boy tactlessly. he doesn't know what he's saying anymore.

"look, I know we've been friends for so long-"

"Eddie," you say.

"you probably don't feel the same way because like, why would you-"

"Eddie," you say again.

"but seeing you all beautiful and shit tonight made it impossible not to say anything and it's-"

"Eddie!!" you exclaim, grabbing him by the shoulders. he finally shuts up, looking down at you in surprise. he doesn't think he's ever heard you speak that loudly before.

your mouth opens and then closes, but you stop yourself from being doubtful. you know that you have to take the step and let go. there's no room for shyness now, not with him.

"I have a massive crush on you too," you say, repeating what he had told you moments ago.

now it's Eddie's turn to be stunned into silence. he splutters, hands going every which way. he doesn't believe what he's hearing. that you, the prettiest girl in Hawkins, the prettiest girl he's ever seen, could possibly feel the same way about him as he does about you.

"are you being serious right now?" he asks you, eyebrows raised in apprehension.

"yes," your answer is resolute and sure. Eddie swallows hard.

"you like me?" he squints and you giggle at his befuddled state.

"yes, I like you," you assure him gently.

"...shit. okay. wow," he laughs breathlessly, "I didn't think you'd actually, uh, y'know-"

"feel the same?" you finish his sentence. he nods dreamily.

the two of you sit and stare at each other for a few long moments. you then watch as Eddie situates himself to face you better, leaning in to be close to your face once again.

"can I, uh, can I kiss you?" he asks you gently, softly. you rarely hear this tone of voice from him, but when you do, it's heaven.

"I don't know, can you?" you tease, touching your nose to his. he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"you shut up," he says and connects his lips with yours.

his lips are rough compared to your softer ones, but you don't mind. the kiss is shy but intimate, the both of you recognizing that this should've happened much sooner. Eddie's hands wander all over your frame, from your face to your neck down to your waist and back. he makes certain to be gentle, not wanting to scare you away.

he pulls away for a moment to breathe but wastes no time in kissing you once again, and soon he's pulling you onto his lap. you shudder against him and he sighs into your mouth. he feels like a dream. he's passionate yet careful, and you can feel the neediness in how his lips move against yours. you cup his face with your hands and lean your forehead against his own.

you pull back and desperately try to catch your breath. you look down at Eddie and he's got that familiar grin on his face, a classic Eddie expression. your lipstick is smeared all over his mouth and you giggle at how silly and handsome he looks.

"shit," he says, swearing being the only thing he can manage to do in the moment, "you're so fucking pretty."

#ok third reposts' the charm #anyway uh first fic on here !!!#hope u eddie lovers enjoyyy #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #katherine's fics ∘˚˳° ♡

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bluewinnerangel · 1 year

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About Louis about Chicago

I can't help but feel the things Louis says about Chicago have a layered meaning to them (as I feel with most things he says - but among everything he's been saying about the songs on FITF, Chicago feels like an outlier to me. As if there's some need to elaborate in this way while for most other songs it's just idk that pressure isn't there if that makes sense), there's just something between the lines there, and I don't mean this is for us to "figure out", its his alone, I'm just loving him potentially finding ways to say things coming from a deeper place without giving too much (or anything) away. This post got little to do with the meaning of Chicago, its just hey did you notice this too lol that's it. So in bold his quotes about Chicago:

"It is a special song to me and almost not by choice it just is" - it was a necessity to get this out? it's... not by choice it just is. I feel like this quote is bigger than whatever I can think of. (Track-By-Track)

(about Dave Gibson the only co-writer on Chicago getting him: "Sometimes what I find challenging, is I can see the picture or I can hear the song or I can see the concerts in my head and sometimes it’s quite hard to articulate that cause you’ve got such a clear vision in your head and you just want someone else to be able to read your mind, go ‘Yeah that’s what Im talking about!’" - Again (so far) this is the only song on this album where he's making it known as far as i know he had trouble putting what he had in his head into words. This quote is also about Dave understanding him well in general, but talking about Chicago is what prompted him to say this. (Track-By-Track)

Dave Gibson said "I honestly love everything we wrote - but I think Chicago is a really really special record" - again emphasizing this one's more. (Dave Gibson on Twitter)

[when asked about the meaning:] "Yeah, I’m gonna leave that one close to me chest that one. Pretty kind of raw lyric that, that lyric kind of hits you in the heart but nah, I’m not telling you." - the essence here. (Z100 NY)

"even from that first lyric you know I saw you had a baby did you use any names that we liked like that it kind of hits you straight away [compares it to the brashness as he's calling it of Face The Music] but its important obviously to have shade to the line" (it's gotta be "line" but I really hear him say "lie") - this can mean so many things? (Track-By-Track)

"one of those songs [...] I'm referencing my lyrical maturity and its not some i think i could have written on the last record because i think its a concept that i havent necessarily heard before" - again this can mean many things. (Track-By-Track)

but again this "I've personally not heard the concept [of chicago] before" ???? WHAT? Whu- the concept like the casual listen concept is like.. yo we didn't work out. So what is he thinking here. Within his own discography? Is he trying to put emphasis on his song being like super specific and that's what he hasn't heard before? How is he viewing this song that makes him say this. (Track-By-Track)

"It's a very honest [and then immediately:] I will say maybe half of it you know is is imaginative half it based on personal experience [and then immediately:] probably like most songs in reality" - He's really putting it out there that it's "half real autobiographical half imagination" (Track-By-Track)

"But, but I will say, I do have a special relationship with Chicago, like it is, it is I mean yeah its a cool place. I mean I do feel this kind of affiliation to, to Chicago, but mostly it’s half theoretical, imaginative, and half based on real events" - adding mainly because he did put into words there is some affiliation to Chicago, and that the half-theoretical, half real events gets repeated like its apparently important its out there lol. (102.7 KIIS FM)

he keeps calling the song "emotional" - obviously it's deeply emotional but... he's saying this the most about this song by far and then just not elaborating at all. not that i need him too, just stands out to me.

Then there's him agreeing on it being the most pop song on the album, while at many points in this promo run he's been clear on wanting to step away from that, but then here's him wholeheartedly agreeing "DEFINITELY" and absolutely not in a negative way, and ready to elaborate, but unfortunately the interviewer wasn't done and clarifies "it's a nice sort of way to transition from walls into this new album" and he goes "exactly yeah that's kind of how I see it [...] it's not trying to be anything that it's not" which I think is so fascinating? Maybe the most of all in this list? It's making me think he purposefully went poppy on this one because it fits the concept of Chicago? Like he's traveling back in time sonically on purpose? Maybe? (Track-By-Track)

#imma schedule this for later #i dont really like that its got no point really but also its been on my mind and just in them drafts and if i dont post then its there #forever so. for the 2.8 interested individuals this

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shirefantasies · 22 days

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hi!!! if you're still doing match-ups i'd love to request one! the ones you've done so far are so cute. so my name is asiya and i am half indian half pakistani. i have long brown hair and brown eyes and my face is pretty pale. i am 5'0 so def on the shorter side LMFAOO. i rlly love reading and writing when i'm not busy with college. i also rlly like to try new foods and go on trips. i also am the occasional baker and chef when i'm not lazy so there's also that. in addition, i rlly like going for walks and listening to music i find that sooo soothing. i'm also a big movie watcher. like if you tell me we're watching a movie i will be tuned in idc. i'm pretty guarded when you first meet me but once i've become comfortable with you it's over bro. i will make jokes and yap 24/7. anyways i hope that's enough information. thank you so much and keep up the great work <3

“oh hey this is asiya again sorry i forgot to add but could you do a lotr match for me tysm <3” Absolutely I can because your man is...

Faramir!

Interest arises in Faramir’s mind the moment he hears a troupe of entertainers has rolled its way to Minas Tirith- quite unusual, indeed. Always one for the arts, though, he is determined to make his way to it at least once while he has the opportunity. After all, they have undertaken the great effort to erect a stage for the benefit of his people. Shuffling into the crowd, Faramir is unsure what to expect right up to the moment the curtain rolls upward, revealing a pair of players. The moment they speak, the setting changes and he is enveloped in story.

So enveloped, in fact, that by the end of it he feels compelled to rise up and make his way backstage with compliments. As soon as the curtain parts, his eyes meet yours, catching the way they flutter in surprise. “My apologies,” he tells you, “I was simply captured by what you showed today. Truly I am grateful to have made my way to your show.” “What,” you ask him, stepping closer, “is your name?” “Faramir, my lady,” he bows slightly, a hand across his chest before it reaches for yours. Letting him take your hand, you incline your head. “Asiya,” you say, “and I admire your love of theatre. Put me before a play and all the world fades.” “Put you in one and you have quite the same effect,” he remarks with a smile.

He cannot help asking if you have seen the great art of Minas Tirith, and when you say no he presses on to inquire if he might be the one to show you. Thus you find yourselves strolling through a great hall before poring over massive, intricate tapestries that have you both musing over the stories behind them, laughing lightly as you all but write a play together from it all. Your presence is natural to Faramir, his whole body relaxing in a way it simply did not around most, and he cannot help hoping you feel the same.

The next time he finds you, you are leaning out a window of all places, waving him down with a lovely grin. You’ve baked some fresh bread and are wondering if he would come in for some; there is soup also, a new recipe. “I suppose I was inspired today,” you joke as Faramir sits across from you. Your eyes shine as you ask him how it is. The picture is calm, domestic, and the whole thing brings heat to his face. When you finish your meal, discussing your favorite books, it is clear neither of you wish the night to end, so you leave for a stroll.

Draping his cloak over your shoulders, Faramir watches your movements, tracks your smile and mirrors it. “Minas Tirith is a place of beauty,” you remark, eyes tracing up to the sky. “It is,” he agrees, his gaze focused solely upon you, “a place of history, of many mighty works of men and yet you bring something new. I wish that the White City could always glow with such creation, such vibrance as you give it.” “Faramir,” you tease, swatting his arm lightly, “is this your way of trying to steal me?” “I would not have you parted from the things that enliven you so, that which brings the smile to your face, and yet I confess Minas Tirith has never shone so as when you entered it.” “Wow,” you reply, gorgeous lips parting and big brown eyes widening, diverting their full attention Faramir’s way, “I had intended to make a joke about your ploy working, but now I’ve simply lost my words entirely. Would that I had a script.”

“Well, you need no script for this.” And thus beneath Minas Tirith’s moonlight, under the shadow of soaring white towers and the glitter of stars alike, your lips met, Faramir’s hand cradling your cheek with tenderness you could never imagine.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

***MATCHUPS ARE CLOSED***

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #lord of the rings matchups #faramir #faramir x reader #faramir x female reader #female reader #ask #anon #requested #matchup monday

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what-if-queen-camilla · 10 months

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Chapter 27

So... I'm pretty unsure about this piece... I didn't want it to be too sad but then again the subject is quite serious... I have to say I was having a hard time trying to imagine the feelings and emotions of an eight-year-old in that very situation... I hope you like it nonetheless, and please do let me know what you think in the comments...

21st November 1995, part 1

Middlewick House

The night had been hell. It hadn't been before 5am that Camilla had finally fallen into an unsteady sleep, tortured by all different sorts of nightmares until Andrew woke her again at about 7am. Andrew… She couldn't express her immense gratitude that, after everything that had happened and gone wrong between them, it hadn’t even taken him half an hour to get into his car and straight to them, his ex-wife and her illegitimate child, to speak the truth in all its cruelty, apparently, at least as he told her, more or less by his new partner Rosemary’s command. “She thought you might need someone to look after you…”, he’d grumbled while manoeuvring that poor little picture of misery that she had turned into, onto her bed, which was obviously amongst the only few pieces of furniture that hadn’t been dismantled yet. He had then gotten two glasses and a whole bottle of Whiskey for both of them, sat down next to her, put his arm around her and let her cry, until there hadn’t been a single tear left anymore. “Alright Milla.”, he had finally started, clearing his throat. “I’ll stay here with you until everything is fixed. But Rose will come over tomorrow as well. I want her by my side.” “Of course.”, Camilla sobbed, gulping a few sips of the Whiskey. She liked Rose and she didn’t mind her coming over at all, but somehow it bothered her to hear that he actually wanted a woman “by his side”; in all of the 20 years of their meanwhile divorced marriage, he’d never wanted her “by his side” the way he demanded Rose now. “I’ll meet our lawyer tomorrow.”, he then went on. “We need a plan as soon as possible. Have you heard anything from Charles yet?” Camilla shook her head. “I unplugged the telephone immediately, after…”, she explained and looked so desperately that it almost broke his heart. “Sure. Don’t worry, I’ll contact him.”, he promised. “It’s important that we’re all working together now. Thea will stay home tomorrow and you’ll tell her the truth. She needs to hear it from you. You can go on a walk or ride together and take all the time you need. But when you return I will be here and reassure her that I’m still and will always be her daddy. That’ll be important for her to know.” Camilla had almost cuddled up to him as if they were still married; she couldn’t believe how wonderful and supportive he was of both her and her daughter, but maybe it was due to the Whiskey. “Why are you doing all of this, Andrew?”, she asked, her eyes filled with tears again. Andrew looked at her in amusement, casually shrugging his shoulders. “Because you will always be a part of my life. A part of my heart will always belong to you and everything we had. We might not have worked out as husband and wife, but we’ve always been good parents to all our three children. Milla - I love Thea like my own flesh and blood. I brought her to life-” “You did…” “-and I will not allow anyone to hurt her or put her at risk in one way or another, no matter if it’s the press or the bloody Princess of Wales.” Camilla had started crying again while she’d been listening to him, but these were actually tears of joy, pride and relief that, despite everything, Andrew was still being such an amazing daddy for her little darling daughter. God only knew how she was supposed to explain to her that he wasn’t her biological father tomorrow… it’d surely break her heart. "I know you'll find the right words.", Andrew said. "You always have. You're an exceptional mother, Camilla."

"What do you mean, I'm not going to school today?", Thea asked and looked at her mother in irritation. She was maximum confused. Why on earth shouldn't she go to school today? It was an ordinary Tuesday. Of course she was going to school, unless something really serious had happened… "Well, darling, the two of us need to… talk about a few things.", Camilla murmured, nervously stirring in her breakfast tea. Thea frowned her forehead. "Mummy, I've got quite an important maths lesson today… The exam date is next week! I can hardly miss it!" "I know, darling, and I wouldn't do that if it wasn't for a really important cause… Please, just trust me, darling." Her mother's almost begging voice and the desperate expression on her face made Thea's little heart ache. She loved Mummy, she knew that she only ever wanted what was best for her and that this had to be a really serious thing if it bothered her that much. "Okay, Mummy… What are we going to do?", she asked. "I mean, where are we going?" "Where would you like to go?", Camilla countered, hoping for her daughter to name a place of two where she'd feel comfortable, happy and relaxed enough to record that sort of news… "What about a picnic in my tree house?", she suggested, referring to the really impressive and beautiful tree house which had been lovingly built up by Andrew and Tom a couple of years ago. "We won't have it for much longer anyway." Of course they couldn't move the tree to their new home so Thea was totally right when suggesting that they'd take every chance to spend a bit of time in it as long as they could… "Alright then. Let's wrap up warmly and meet up there in half an hour!", Camilla agreed and Thea nodded approvingly.

"Okay, Mummy, cutting to the chase: what's the matter?", Thea asked easily, looking at her mother in happy and curious expectations. They'd sat down on a blanket on the floor in her tree house, cuddled up tightly and covered in another, particularly soft blanket, each of them holding a good, hot cup of tea in their hands. Camilla nervously cleared her throat. "Well, darling… remember when Tigger had her puppies last summer?", she began a little uncertain, referring to Charles' beloved Jack Russell Terrier who had, indeed, had puppies last year, and Thea nodded enthusiastically. It had been a joy when Tigger had her puppies last year, they'd gone over to Highgrove every day and watched the little ones grow until they were old enough to be gifted to some of Sir's friends, they had kept one, too, Freddy was his name, and he was an absolute sweetheart. "And… um, darling, have you ever wondered how… the babies were… let's say put into Tigger's tummy?", she asked further and had to really pull herself together. Having to have this talk right here, right now, just felt so unbelievably ridiculous. Thea casually grabbed a macaron from the hamper Camilla had prepared, eating it with relish. "She must have been mated by a male dog?!", she replied, looking at her mother in confusion. "Y-yes, exactly…", Camilla responded, equally shocked and surprised that her daughter was already that familiar with this sort of vocabulary. "And, um, do you know what that… means?", she asked further and Thea rolled her eyes. "A tiny cell from a male body joins with a tiny cell from a female’s body.", she explained casually, almost precociously and Camilla almost choked herself with a macaron. "That's… right, darling, that's just… how things work.", she confirmed and helped herself to a glass of champagne. It was only just 10am but specific situations called for special measures. "And, do you know that it works just like that for humans, too, darling?", she tried to build the bridge to the actual point of their conversation, and Thea frowned her forehead. "But humans have sex to make babies.", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, casually grabbing another macaron, while Camilla almost spilled her champagne in shock. "W-what do you know about… sex?", she asked anxiously. She was her innocent little baby, she wasn't allowed to know about these things yet…

"Laura says it's a very private, grown-up cuddle.", Thea bubbled. "Oh does she?", Camilla wanted to know and couldn't help feeling very proud of her oldest daughter for having described it so beautifully. A very private grown-up cuddle… brilliant! She herself would never have come up with that! She absolutely had to tell and thank Laura for having explained it all to her little sister so clearly and carefully, or maybe rather not - it'd probably make her feel embarrassed… anyway. "She says that's what grown-ups do when they're very much in love. And that sometimes they get a baby… afterwards.", Thea added, and Camilla pulled her into her arms. "Yes, darling. That's true. And, um, you know… Mummy and Sir are very much in love, as well…" "So you have made that sex thing, too?" Once more, Camilla almost choked herself. "Yes, we, um… might have.", she replied, unusually shy, blushing in shame. "And now you're getting a baby?", Thea asked and, for a moment, Camilla didn't know whether she'd rather scream or laugh. Goodness. What a ridiculous thought! But of course reasonable from her daughter's point of view. "No, darling, no, no, no.", she chuckled, pressing her daughter against her chest. "At least not… now. But, you know, darling, a couple of years ago… I did have a baby after I'd had a… very private grown-up cuddle with Sir… In fact, it was almost exactly nine years ago. And nine months later… a little girl came into this world, and made it so much brighter and filled it with nothing but joy and love… and the little girl was named Theodora." Camilla hadn't been able to hold back her tears anymore as she had finally told her daughter the truth, pressing her against herself, desperately hoping she wasn't going to hate her for the rest of her life. Thea twisted around in her mother's arms, looking at her in a mixture of disbelief and excitement. "So - you're saying that Sir is actually my father, aren't you, Mummy?", her little sweetheart asked so cutely and attentively that it almost overwhelmed her. Camilla nodded, tears running down her face. "Yes, darling. He is.", she confirmed, sobbing heartbreakingly. "But why are you crying then, Mummy?", Thea wanted to know and lovingly wiped away her mother's tears. "It's okay. You and Sir are in love and I'm very fond of Sir, too. I think he loved me, too. Is he also Tom and Laura's father? But - wait, what's with Daddy?" Her clever little girl had so many, reasonable questions and, of course, Camilla was going to try and answer them all as best as she could. "No, darling, Sir's not Tom and Laura's father, that'd be Daddy, and Daddy will always be your Daddy as well. He loves you so much and this will not change anything between you two.", Camilla assured her. "He'll tell you himself as soon as we're back at the house, he's actually here, you know…" Thea's eyes widened in excitement. "Daddy's here?", she asked enthusiastically and Camilla nodded verifying. "He is, darling. And he can't wait to see you - wanna go and say hello to him?" "Yes, please!", Thea exclaimed cheerfully, and off she went…

#queen camilla #king charles #andrew parker bowles #royal baby #royal family #fanfiction #fanfic

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