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tenjiiku · 2 years

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every heartbeat

early mornings, izana likes to wake you up 10 minutes before your alarm will go off with the soft melody of his guitar. the sunlight streams in from the floor to ceiling windows of your bedroom — warming his cold skin as he slips out of the comforter and sits on the sofa near the aperture.

you awake 5 minutes after he finishes the instrumental he wrote you a year ago. he can sense your tired body lift up, the blanket making a sound against the queen sheets.

“‘zana,” your voice is soft, sweet, and only ever for him, “come back t’bed.”

he sets his guitar down, a hint of a smile on his face, and makes his way back to you. your eyes are in the shape of crescent moons, he brushes your cheekbone before laying down. you take his head in both of your hands and lay him against your bare chest. he traces flowers into your skin with his calloused fingers before falling asleep once more.

this is the best part of his day.

his favourite place to sit is between your legs. aside from the very obvious sexual innuendos of his confession; he adores it for an entirely different reason. your lotion smells of cherry blossoms and strawberries. his favourite scents.

“—and it’s like, now she hates me even though everyone — like — says that she’s totally in the wrong!”

he fixes his reading glasses. the glow of his laptop illuminating his features in your dimly lit living room. you sit on the sofa. he sits cross legged on the carpet leaning against it, your two legs caging him in.

he hums as you finish your current rant, “mhm.”

“‘zana,” your hands aimlessly playing with his hair pause and rest on top of his head, “are you listenin’?”

closing his laptop slightly, he turns his head towards you. you lean a back a little with widened eyes. he bites the inside of his cheek at your reaction.

“yumi-chan keeps helping herself to your snacks, and when you confronted her about it she called you delusional.”

your face turns back to normal, and he moves his head back to its original position, opening his laptop. the right side of his mouth lifts up in an almost-smile and he adjusts his glasses as they slide down the bridge of his nose. you continue with your ministrations, treating his hair as some sort of stress relief toy. but you are very gentle — you are always gentle with him. he loves when you get angry at someone else because that means you direct all your love and concern to him.

“yeah! can you believe the gall of her?!” you huff at the end, growing breathless.

“you can always put a lock on your lunch box,” he suggests.

you tug at his hair, clearly a little put off at his suggestion.

“wouldn’t that be overkill?”

“who’re you trying to impress?”

you do not respond. he waits one, two, three, four, five seconds.

your voice is so quiet, so meek, so cute, “…you know any lunch boxes with locks?”

he turns his head to look back to you. he shifts his body left, patting the space next to him. he already has amazon open on his web browser.

“come ‘ere.”

you go to the grocery store together, every sunday. this was the first time he had lost you.

his eyebrows furrow in frustration, as he passes by different aisles, giving them a glance before ultimately never meeting the bright yellow of your jacket. or, his, jacket — he gave it to you when ran gave it to him as a birthday present, he did not like the colour. in one hand he carries fish food. in the other, a new pack of toothbrushes. a pink one (his) and a green one (yours).

finally coming to the milk aisle, he spots the ugly bright yellow colour and breathes a sigh of relief. you were not dead, thankfully. he does not realize how fast he had been walking until he approaches you: peacefully holding a carton of alternative milk.

you do not even look at him when you ask, “‘zana, you think oat milk tastes good?”

he pants a little, out of breath as he leans against the glass door of the fridge, “i…, don’t know.”

you pause for a moment, scrutinizing the box of oat milk as though it had committed a crime punishable by death. you shove it back into the fridge and close it.

“i think it’s a load of bull.”

he watches you. your other words do not quite register in his mind. he is just glad he found you before you realized he was not there. a part of him thinks you already knew that, but trusted him enough to leave him alone. it makes the knots in his stomach loosen. it feels uncomfortable.

he grabs your warm hand. it heats his cold one. they’re much more softer than his.

“‘zana?”

he intertwines his fingers with your own, swinging your joined arms back and forth. “we can try it, if you want.”

you look up at him, and smile. it takes so little for you to know what he needs. his stomach tightens inside — back to how it was. it feels so nice. he wants to kiss you, he thinks. but you lift your joined hands up and place one on his before he can.

“nah,” you grin against his skin (you’re trying to murder him, he surmises), “let’s go.”

you walk home hand-in-hand from the grocery store, and he knows he has nothing to worry about if either of you get lost. because you will always find a way back to each other.

whomever arrives home first is in charge of dinner. today, it was izana’s turn. he makes fresh rice and instant curry — you were never picky. loving you was so easy.

“i wanna go to the bahamas,” you mumble, randomly, with a mouth full of rice.

he sits across from you. your legs are tangled together underneath the kotatsu. some cheap reality show plays on the television as background noise. your apartment is lit up — bright and warm — a stark contrast to the dark night sky outside.

he swallows before asking, “any flights available?”

you gulp down the large bite you had taken, looking at him incredulously. he stares at you, waiting.

“we, we can’t just go—,” you say, “we have work.”

“oh,” he drops his spoon a little, “yeah. right.”

you both grab your respective cans of beer at the same time, drinking it to fill the silence. but, like always, you are the first to stop and break the quietness.

“don’tcha just wanna run away sometimes?”

you put your cheek in the palm of your free hand, the other one gripping your half empty beer can. you force a laugh at the end. he can feel you getting hot.

“i hate— i hate money and work and,” you pause, coercing another giggle and rolling your eyes, “i hate capitalism.”

“yeah,” he is terrible at carrying conversations, and he never does know where you go with yours, “it does suck.”

he shifts his eyes towards the genkan where your coats hang, side by side. he cannot see it from here, but he knows your heels are next to his boots.

after a pregnant pause, he hears a sniffle. he looks back at you. your eyes are glossy.

“anata?”

you do not look at him. your brows are a little furrowed and your lips tremble — out of anger, he guesses, “it makes me so mad, sometimes.”

izana does not know how to properly comfort you. he knows you are not upset about whatever it is you were directing your true anger towards, though. and he hopes you know that he knows that. for now, he takes the beer can from out your hand, rests it on the table, and covers your hand with his palm.

“let’s go somewhere tomorrow,” he whispers, like it is a secret mission he is inviting you on, “emergency vacation.”

you look at him. he knows that it is a good sign. so he persists. “doesn’t have to be far. didn’t you wanna try that new cheesecake place?”

and when you smile through tears, he knows you understand that, in his own way, he is there for you. that he is here for you. that he loves you, and wants you to rest well.

“yeah,” you tangle your fingers with his own, meeting him at the end with the other half, “yeah, that’d be nice.”

izana does not typically vomit when he gets drunk — but he does become utterly honest. he fills 1/2 of the personality of a stereotypical drunk person, and the only person he trusts himself around when he gets to that point is you.

“your darling,” he has his arm swung around rindou. he knows he’s dragged him back to his apartment. to you. “he got pretty wasted.”

“yeah, i can tell.” your voice is sardonic and it makes a lazy smile paint itself on his face. he can feel rindou move his arm from his shoulder to yours. he feels like a sack of potatoes.

“thanks, rin.” you express your generosity. izana giggles, hair falling over his squinted eyes. you were so kind and so nice to him and everyone.

you shut the door behind you both, sighing a little.

“come on, big man, ya gotta help me here.”

“mmfgfh.” he groans, lifting himself up but still leaning against your body on purpose because he wants to stay like this a little while longer. to make you mad, a little.

you scoff, responding to his gibberish, “yeah, i know. crazy, right?”

he finds himself tossed onto the bed. he can feel you unbuckle his belt and take his work pants off. he lays limply, unmoving — trusting.

“jeez, honey, what’d you drink?” you ask, loosening his tie and throwing it onto the ground.

“hm hm somethin’ sweet.” he smiles, eyes seeing your silhouette in the dark as they adjust to the lighting, “and sour and bitter and gross.”

when he comes to his senses, he sees that you are on your knees. he grimaces a little at your position, and bends his body to rest on your neck to make himself as uncomfortable as you probably are.

“i hate goin’ drinkin’ after work.” he mumbles into your skin.

“yeah,” you simply retort, “arms up.”

he complies. now he is completely bare, only in his briefs. you stand up and push him to lay against the washed sheets. he snuggles into his pillow, eyelids suddenly feeling heavy.

“‘kay, stay here.”

you begin to walk away. before he can stop you, you are already back with a cold glass of water.

you sit on his side of the bed, placing a hand on his back, urging him to sit up. “drink.”

he takes the glass. he can feel you watch his every move and it makes his cheeks hot. he coughs a little, gulping the water quickly so you can be beside him.

but you only chastise him. “slowly, gosh, don’t choke.”

he sets the glass down onto the bedside table. he lays back down but you remain sitting. he likes this situation. he feels so safe. you come in closer and brush his hair out of his face.

“you’re lucky it’s a friday.”

“love you,” he mumurs incoherently, but genuinely, “i love you.”

he sees you smile. you lean down, and place a kiss on his forehead. he thought butterflies were bullshit. he still think they are. the feeling he gets in his chest from you is so much more than butterflies.

it is indescribable. only known to two. he falls asleep soundly to this.

your hair was so much more softer than his own, like most of you. but you trust his rough parts to handle yours. he lathers shampoo into your hair, forming suds. the bath water ripples with each massage, and you hum a little at his relaxing kneading. you have your back turned against him, but still entrance him nonetheless.

“it would’ve been s’nice if we domesticated bears, like, centuries ago.”

“hm.”

“we could’ve had little baby bear pets — like dogs,” you bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, “i can’t.”

he croons, taking his soap lathered hand and moving them to your neck. “bend your neck a little.”

“or, like, what ‘bout raccoons,” you bend your neck, he continues, “why can’t we have them as pets.”

you shiver a little before explaining, “i saw one dead on the road today and cried.”

“oh,” his movement slows down, “that’s gross,”before becoming normal again.

you lift your hand, raise it up towards your head and lightly slap his hand cleaning your scalp.

“don’t call it gross! it was sad! poor guy.”

the water ripples with each movement. izana drowns out your rant about there being ‘justice for raccoons’ and spots a kiss mark he left you on your back last night.

the memory makes his hands fall from your hair, and wrap around your waist. he nudges your cheek with his nose and you yelp at the sudden contact.

“‘zana, stop! stop, that tickles!”

your annoyance turns into giggles as he blows raspberries into your cheek. he grins — almost invisibly — against your skin. the bathroom floor becomes wet from the swishing of water afterwards.

the next day, you wake up with more kiss marks and bruises. one has even made its way on your neck. izana grew a little determined after your bath. he sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes, as you come into the room, rummaging through the closet. you don a pretty blouse — noticeably with a turtle neck — and pencil skirt.

“oh, wow.” he sniggers as your butt hangs out the closet door.

you shut the door loudly, turning to him with narrowed eyebrows.

“shuddap,” you hiss, tugging the collar of your shirt down to reveal a discernible — for a lack of a better word — hickey.

“look at what you did to me!”

he leans back, cocky. “looks hot.”

you cross your arms, huffing.

“i have a meeting with the other team supervisors today! sales people are comin’ in today!”

“hope it goes well,” he blows you a kiss, and laughs as you throw up a middle finger and stomp your cute butt out the door.

in the evening he gives you one more. you are a creature of habit and you are terrible at keeping grudges. he likes that about you. he was a sloth when it came to following a schedule and could carry other’s mistakes with him until he reaches his grave. you balance each other out.

“wish we could stay like this forever,” you sigh, cheek laying against his chest, mindlessly tracing hearts into his skin.

“thought you were mad at me this morning.”

you lift your head up, chin resting on his torso. he tilts his own a little down to look you down. you mumble something under your breath. he doesn’t hear you. you exhale a little and say it again.

“can never stay mad at you.”

he knows that it is true. which is why he gives you a third love bite to join the others on your neck. 3 was his lucky number.

one, you. the other, him. and last, the small little world you have created with another.

#izana x fem reader #izana kurokawa x reader #izana x reader #writing

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j-graysonlibrary · 3 months

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Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 2

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.

Full chapter 2 under the cut:

Chapter Two:

It’s still early when I wake but the storm has passed. I check the nightstand to see the bright red numbers of the alarm clock read 5:20. Normally I would go back to sleep for at least another half hour before getting any early morning chores out of the way but, on this morning, I roll right out of bed.

There is much to do.

I turn on only the small lights as I pass through into the living room. A soft, muffled groan comes from the couch and I can’t help but step closer and linger.

In the bundle of blankets on my couch is a man I just met—only twelve hours ago—who I am hopelessly mesmerized by. Only part of his face is visible and the rest is hidden under the covers. Still, what I see is stunning and I can’t wait to look in his eyes and talk to him again.

And, as much as I’d love to keep him forever, I need to actually keep my promise and fix his bike.

I grab the parts and my toolbox before heading outside. I take quiet, careful steps down the stairs and use the light of my downstairs neighbor’s porch to work under.

The fix is simple but, without the necessary parts it would have been impossible. I ensure the wheel is properly fixed and I even test it out to make sure it can bear my weight. It feels sturdy so I’m sure Kade’s small stature won’t be any strain on it at all.

I return to my apartment, put my tools away, and then flick on the light above the sink in the kitchen. It won’t shine too brightly into the living room so I hope to not disturb Kade any. I have no idea when he needs to get up but I doubt it’s so early so I keep the lights and noise down to a minimum.

Still, I work on making something nice for him to wake up to.

I don’t know if he likes coffee but, with the fact his sister owns a café, I figure he must be somewhat partial to it. I start a pot and then scour the fridge for decent breakfast food. There’s a block of bacon, some eggs, and cheese. With the bread in the cupboard, I’m certain I can make an okay breakfast sandwich.

I set everything up and start the bacon first, knowing that will take the longest. Once I hear a sizzling sound, I walk into the living room and flip on a small lamp. It’s enough to start to wake Kade.

His brow furrows and he frowns, curling more into himself in defense against the waking world. I smile and come closer though not so much as to be in his space.

“I’m making breakfast,” I saw with a lowered voice. “Come join me when you’re ready.”

“Mmmn, ’s early?” It’s not much of a question at all but I guess it is dark out still so it doesn’t take much to notice the time.

“A bit,” I admit with a laugh that gets caught in my throat. “How do you like your coffee?”

“Lots of sugar and cream,” he mutters and begins to stretch. A noise I can only describe as a cute groan comes from him as he raises his hands up over his head. “Whatcha making?”

His tone is so much more casual than it was last night and I wonder if it’s the effect of being too tired to care. I don’t mind at all—this display before me is adorable. His half squinted eyes, slight pout, and tousled hair is just the cherry on top.

“Bacon and egg sandwiches. Want cheese?”

“Mmmmm” A smile pulls at his lips, breaking his pout. “Sounds good.”

“Alright.” I hurry back to the kitchen to turn the bacon and start the eggs. I also push the bread into the toaster and set out the plates.

I hear the shuffling of baggy clothes behind me and I turn to look at Kade. He rubs his right eye with a sleeved hand before looking around, seemingly confused. “Need help?”

“You can make your coffee however you like,” I suggest. I worry I would either put too much or too little sugar and cream for his liking. “The sugar is in the cabinet above the coffee maker and cream is in the fridge.”

He nods and gets to work. I turn my attention to the food and, while I want to keep watching Kade, I also don’t want to burn his breakfast. When I think of it in those terms, it’s actually quite easy to maintain focus.

I prepare our sandwiches and bring the plates to the table, eager to share yet another meal with him.

It’s a lot different than our dinner from last night. There is less talking and Kade is far less concerned with appearing polite and reserved. It’s because he’s tired, I know, but I soak it in. I bet this is what life is like with him after a few weeks of dating, I can’t help but think. And, having this quiet, normal moment with him sends butterflies through my stomach.

Like before, I wash the dishes after and Kade remains at the table, drinking his coffee. It’s waking him up, little by little, and some of that bashfulness from before is returning.

I bid a mental farewell to the more honest, albeit exhausted, version of Kade and greet the more awake and polished man before me. “I already fixed your bike so you’re good to go whenever you want. Your clothes are dry too if you want to change back into them.”

“Thanks again…” He tucks a lock of his dirty blonde hair behind his ear but it falls back out immediately. For some reason, that causes him to turn pink. “I’ll change. Even if it might look bad to your neighbors.”

“Bad to my neighbors?” I repeat, confused.

His blush darkens. “Well, I’d be leaving in the same outfit I arrived in so…”

I realize all at once what he’s implying and, while I doubt any of my neighbors paid that much attention last night, I still find myself flustered by the insinuation. It is something I could not possibly think of after just meeting him or, at the very least, something I should be ashamed of for even mentally entertaining.

“Oh um…” I gulp. “I’m sure they won’t notice.”

We take different bathrooms to dress and I put on a nice suit and tie with a pair of glasses that match the color. My hair falls flat around my eyes so I gel it back, smooth along my head where it looks more professional and hides the shaved cut underneath. A few dark strands still stubbornly stick out but that is always the case.

I make sure I’m presentable in the mirror, checking my features in mild appreciation. It may seem conceited but I always enjoyed my own appearance. There are a few things I don’t love about my face and body but, overall, I can see why people say the things they do. I am tall, have defined muscles, and my facial features are sharp and angular. While always giving me the appearance of looking angrier than I am, I do know it holds a certain sex appeal. Or, so many women in my life have told me.

I don’t spend several minutes appreciating myself in the mirror or anything but I can look at what is reflected back at me and be happy with it.

I meet with Kade in the living room and I think to myself that we are almost perfect opposites of each other at first glance. He’s not short but because of my height, he is much smaller at my side. His hair is light while mine is dark and his eyes, too, are brilliant and colorful whereas mine are a deep, dark brown and almost blend into my pupils.

He breaks my thoughts with a simple look. I could get lost in those eyes.

“Going into work?” he asks with his head cocked to the side.

I nod. It’s still a bit early but I always like to have time to settle into the office before clocking in. “Do you need to get to work too?” I return the question.

“Not just yet but I should head back to my sister’s condo.” Kade sighs and holds onto his elbows. He sways slightly in place and glances around me but not at me any longer.

“Well…” I don’t want to part but I know it is inevitable. It still hurts though. “Be careful on the way back.”

He bites his lip and slowly smiles, finally meeting my eyes again. “Thanks…for everything.”

God, I want to kiss him.

But I don’t. I hold it all in and just nod with a smile.

Having Kade leave my life is like discovering a new favorite food and the restaurant closing down the next day. I resist the urge to walk straight to the café rather than to go into work. I have to keep reminding myself that I can go into the café almost anytime I want and I might see Kade again. It’s not as if he’s lost forever.

My heart certainly doesn’t cooperate. My entire chest constricts as I walk toward my cubicle and my brain won’t focus on anything other than the memory of Kade. There is no way work will be productive at this rate.

“Hey, man,” a familiar voice jostles me out of my longing.

I look to my left and see my friend, pushed back in his chair, staring at me.

“Good morning, Hugo.” At least if he keeps my attention, I might be able to get some work done. Though, when I blink, I still see Kade behind the lids of my eyes.

“You look a little out of it, everything okay?”

We met our first week of work as we’d both been hired on about the same time. He’s far more laidback than I am and usually comes into the office on Mondays with jokes at the ready to help lessen the stress of the oncoming week. And, if not jokes, then he’s got wild stories about his weekend.

Hugo isn’t as tall as me but he’s close and he swears he’s not as handsome either but I don’t know if I agree. He could walk into any club and leave with at least five girls’ numbers—easy. He’s good looking, dresses well, is funny, and can talk to anyone. Even if I was better looking than him based on some arbitrary standards, he’s still a better choice for a date.

I worry that, if Kade were to meet him, that he’d be taken by him immediately. The thought makes my stomach clench and I’m reminded of Hugo’s question in the first place.

“Me? I’m fine,” I lie.

“...sure?” he prods. “Nothing on your mind?”

I wonder what Hugo will think if I tell him the truth and a large part of me is compelled to do just that. In fact, I can’t hold it back anymore.

“I met someone.”

His eyebrows fly up his face and he leans closer. “You what? You? Melvin Hardy? Met someone?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” I retort despite the fact it is surprising—especially from his perspective. The entire time he’s known me I’ve been single and I haven’t even tried to date around. He was sure I was either celibate or asexual. Hell, sometimes I thought I was ace too.

Though I suppose I could still be. After all, just liking Kade wouldn’t negate that title. I just…have never felt so strongly about anyone before that it’s rocking my very foundation. I have no idea what to make of it—so much so that I’m not sure who I am anymore.

“So?” Hugo pushes me even more, “Who is it? Do I get to know? Can I meet them?”

“It’s not like that,” I reply immediately. “I…I have to ask them out first. Then maybe.”

And once I’m sure Kade won’t be swayed by Hugo’s charms, I add mentally.

“This is big. Melvin with a date—what a world.”

I roll my eyes at his theatrics but I can’t get Kade out of my mind. If I asked him out, what would he say? The idea of him agreeing is almost too much and I get antsy in my seat.

I have to know.

And I’ll never know if I don’t act.

The moment I’m able, I take my lunch. Hugo has something to heat up in the break room so we say our temporary goodbyes and I flee the building. I rush down the block and a smile naturally comes to my face as I feel the wind rush by me.

I can’t remember a time I felt so alive.

The café isn’t crowded but I can see a few customers at the booths by the window. I push the door, causing a bell to chime, and I quickly survey the building.

A woman, about Kade’s height and with all of his same features, walks over to me with a wide smile. Her hair, maybe only a shade lighter than Kade’s, is pinned up at the top of her head. Her smile is almost as contagious as his. If she’s not his sister, I’ll be baffled.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right with you.” She points to a few empty tables.

I nod and take a booth, nervous of whether or not Kade is even working. If he isn’t here… I sigh just to consider it. I suppose I’ll come back after work and then check again tomorrow when I have more free time.

But then, I see him. He’s in a similar white button up as he was in this morning and he has some of his hair braided and tied behind his head to keep it from falling into his face. He speaks to a table beside me, setting down a plate of muffins between the customers—a couple, by the looks of them.

I can’t help but stare and he must feel it because he glances over as soon as he’s done. He freezes and his jaw hangs as if he’s shocked. I worry he’s upset or put out by my presence but he shuffles to my side pretty quickly.

“Melvin?!” He clasps the tray in his hands and pulls it to his chest. “I—I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I’m on my lunch break,” I explain, hoping to lessen the possible weirdness of it all. “I thought I’d come by and, maybe, see you.”

He doesn’t have time to respond as his sister walks over, order pad at the ready. She quickly realizes that she’s interrupted something and looks between us, settling on Kade. “Do you know each other?”

“He um…He’s the one that fixed my bike,” Kade says and visibly gulps. I notice the light blush blossoming on his cheeks as well.

“Oh?” She looks back to me. “Thank you for helping my baby brother. I’ll get you a coffee on the house.”

“That’s not—” I try to stop her but she waves me off and runs back behind the counter.

Kade chuckles and lowers the tray some but still grips it with a force. “She’s gonna get you something whether you want it or not.”

“She looks just like you,” I mention with a smile.

He nods. “People think we’re twins a lot.”

“I can see that.”

Kade blinks a few times and his eyes shift about as if he wants to say something but can’t quite put his thoughts into words. I decide to help him along, in one way or another.

“I need to ask you something,” I start, getting his full attention, “Kade, will you go out with me tomorrow? We can meet and go wherever you want…”

My heart beats wildly, worried for his response. If he says no…I’m not sure what I’ll do. Probably return to work with my tail figuratively between my legs, never to put myself out there again. Yet I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget Kade which would hurt all the more.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only tugs harder on my heart.

His sister returns, coffee in hand, with a wide smile still plastered across her face. She sets the mug down in front of me. “Here you are, darling.” Again she notices something amiss between her brother and I. “…Something the matter?”

Kade reaches over and pulls on her shirt sleeve. “Can I talk to you in the back for a sec?”

I feel my heart drop into my gut as the two siblings disappear and I’m left without an answer. I can’t help but stare at the entrance to the kitchen where they ducked into. I lean backward and forward in my seat, trying to catch a glimpse of one or both of them.

“WHAT?!” His sister’s voice echoes through the café, gaining the attention of all the patrons.

“Starla! Shush!” I hear Kade, still loud but not nearly as loud as her.

“Say yes, obviously!” she continues with indignation, “You’d better!”

I quickly realize what’s happening and I can’t help but smile despite still being very anxious. I listen even harder.

“I…I’m nervous,” Kade mutters but I can make out his words anyway. Most of the other customers have gone back to their drinks and snacks, ignoring the discussion in the kitchen and I’m glad for that with the next sentence out of his mouth, “He’s so handsome I don’t know how to talk around him!”

I swell with joy and try, very hard, not to smile like an idiot when the two return to the table. If I grin too much, it’ll be obvious I overheard.

Kade’s sister gives him a firm pat on the back before leaving us to tend to another customer and Kade looks down at his shoes. He is red in the face before having said anything and I wait for him to get there on his own.

“Um…so, should we meet at the strip mall tomorrow? I have the afternoon and evening off so…”

I let my smile break free and I feel I could shout from the rooftops how happy I am. “Yeah,” I try to rein it in or, at least, not make it so apparent in my voice, “That works for me. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

#heartbeats paradise #my novel #my writing

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loousir · 3 years

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(Vampire Story) Chapter One

Masterlist | Next Part

All characters depicted are 18+

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The sound that you dread every morning has stirred you from your slumber for the first time this year. You quickly turned the ear piercing alarm off and rolled onto your side for a moment.

Bleh, why can't I just stay home...

Guess I'm grateful it'll be my last year of this...

You stretched as you stood up, yawning in the process. Today is currently your first day of senior year, and boy what a long one it's going to be. You sighed and decided on a quick shower before breakfast. Once finished with your shower, you went back to your room and slipped on whatever outfit seemed nice before heading downstairs.

Your (e/c) eyes scanned the fridge, and with seeing nothing of interest, you decided to just go with toast and some juice.

Ding.

Just as you sat down to eat, your phone went off. Seeing that you got a text from "🤡". You decided on waiting to text back because food. It dinged several more times, the messages either a variation of your name/nickname or just general spam. With a heavily exaggerated sigh, you unlocked your phone and all the messages got set to seen and you simply sent a "?" in response.

The phone started to ring and you waited a few rings before answering and setting it on the counter, putting it on speaker.

"Will you PLEASE just respond after the first message?! I don't want to go over there and break in to wake you up again!"

A male voice loudly spoke to you before a loud groan was heard. "I'm in the middle of eating-" He cut you off. "I dont CARE if you're eating you can still text back!" There was a moment of silence. "I'll be there 10. You better be ready."

And with that aggressive note, he hung up and you finished eating. Taking these ten minutes of freedom to clean up a bit. You still had a few minutes before he arrived and you decided since it was nice enough, you would wait out on the front porch. Soon enough, a bright silver car pulled into the front driveway and the driver's window rolled down as you walked over to it.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping." You smiled and got in the passenger side, setting your bag down between your legs before putting on your seatbelt. "Honestly school is really like a prison once you think about it." The driver rolled his eyes as he got back onto the road and drive you both to, uh, school...

---

Loud chatter filled the gym as all the students were trying to get their schedules for the year. You just got yours and looked at your classes, instantly regretting not taking gym when you were a freshman. With a sigh, you went to look for your taxi driver, only to see him already staring at you with a little group of gossip girls. You walked over to them and looked to your so called bestfriend.

"What's your first hour. Mines gym."

"Haha, unlucky."

"Yours is gym too isn't it."

His head hung low and he nodded. "Yea. It sure is..." You looked over both yours and his schedules, comparing classes, seeing that you shared only gym and maths together, not counting lunch. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around. It felt like someone was staring at you and yeah, you were in a crowded highschool gym but it just felt... Off...

"There is so someone staring at you right now." One of the "gossip girls" said. "Yeah, a hundo percent." "I think it's that new exchange student." The two girls giggle as they continue to gossip to eachother.

"Andy, how the hell do you find people like that."

"Listen dude, they migrate towards me." He said holding his hands up. "But they are right, the exchange student has been staring at you since he's seen you. Kinda creepy." Andy mumbled the last part under his breath. You looked to where said exchange student was but he didn't seem to be staring anymore.

Maybe I offended him somehow..?

---Exchange Student P.O.V.--- (Earlier)

Dear gods he's the one. I just know it.

He watched as a (short/tall/etc.) male with (h/l) (h/c) hair made his way through the gym doors next to a tall blonde. He glared at the blonde for a moment but it was more of an observant glare than a mean one. He already had his schedule so he continued to watched the (h/c) as he tried to get through the crowd to get his own schedule.

The second the (h/c) male walked through the door he couldn't take his eyes off of him. He knew the other had noticed his lingering gaze but he had to look away the second that he saw the others eyes. They were a stunning shade of (e/c) and that was when he knew.

"Its him."

He mumbled out to himself, catching the attention of a student standing close by. "You good?" The other student asked. "Yes. I'm fine." The ravenette looked up to the other. "Darian, you?" A soft smirk was shot Darian's way. "Kai. Pleasure to meet someone like myself." Darian "tch'd" and looked away. "We'll talk at lunch. Meet me out by the cherry tree."

The first bell of the day rang, sending any lingering students to start their walk to class and any in gym to simply remain there.

---Main P.O.V.--- (Present)

"Right, since today is the first day, we will let all of you get acquainted with one another and you have till the end of the week to bring in a change or two of gym clothes." The male gym teacher called out to everyone. "This week will mostly be health work which is just paperwork but it's pretty easy." He called out again before stepping to talk with the female gym teacher about whatever.

You sighed and sat down on some of the extended bleachers, setting your bag next to you. Andy sat down on the other side of you and leaned back. "Dude, Mr. Exchange student is on his way over here." Andy said through gritted teeth. You looked to where the mentioned male was only to see him a few steps in front of you.

With a small smile, you greeted him. "Hi, I'm (Y/n). You're new here right?" He nods. "Kai, it's a pleasure to meet you." His mid-length black hair moved as he bowed to you slightly. You slipped your bag onto the floor in front of your feet, motioning for him to sit down which he accepted. "Could we get to know eachother better?" Kai asked with a smile. You nodded, "Sure, if your free, wanna go to the Cafe down the street?"

"That would be lovely. Do you mind showing me around a bit while we go there? I'm still new to the area so it would be appreciated." You smile and nod again. "Andy, you wanna come with us? I'll pay." Andy looked from his phone and shrugged. "Sure."

I was hoping we'd just go by ourselves but I suppose I'll put up with this for a while. If it means getting closer to him then I'll do it. Anything to achieve my goal.

----- 1225

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #mxm #m4m #male vampire x male reader #vampire x male reader

143 notes · View notes

itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

Ally!! could you write something from that video you reblogged of getting to know Tom before shooting a film with him! ♥️ You would write it so beautifully :) of course take care of yourself first but whenever you are ready!!

Thank you for requesting this love!!🥰 I was going to save it for last and do my requests in order, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about this request, so here I am! I hope you like it!!💜✨

💌.

Getting To Know You

This is long, I probably overdid it, but I hope you all enjoy!🥰

(GIF credits @thollandgifs )

You wander the halls of the studio, walking down long hallways, turning corners, and eyes scanning each sign on the doors of the rooms. You look back down to your phone, skimming through the email the costume department had sent you. Costume Design / Wardrobe — Room 220. Sighing, you glance at the door beside you, Production Design — Room 125. You mentally cursed at yourself for taking so long to get to the studio. You had just arrived in Cleveland, literally just that morning. After a lengthy flight to Cleveland, you were escorted to the house that you would be calling home for the next several months. There waiting for you was a rented car and the belongings that you had packed from home to be delivered to your rented house. Since the house was already decorated and furnished, there was no need in packing all your furniture from home, instead you shipped clothes you couldn’t fit in your luggage and other important belongings that would be difficult to bring onto a flight.

The moment you stepped foot into the house you didn’t bother looking around or going through the boxes that were stacked near the entrance. You made a quick trip to the kitchen, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and drinking a majority of it. The house was spacious but not a hassle to get around, you peaked into a few rooms until you found the bedroom. Removing your shoes, you pulled back the neatly tucked comforter and climbed into the soft bed. Your eyes were already drooping the moment your head hit the pillow. Before sleep can consume you, you turned on an alarm on your phone about an hour and a half prior to the time you were expected to be at the studio.

You were used to traveling to new places due to your job as an actress. Renting out homes and cars for months on end was nothing new to you. Neither was figuring out your way around the new state or country you were currently living in. Though Cleveland was different; you had a GPS to tell you directions to the studio but you were still getting lost, making wrong turns and taking wrong lanes on the highway. Stopping by Starbucks for an iced coffee and croissant to fill you up didn’t help, instead it added on to your reason being late.

You were still roaming the halls with your head tilted down to stare at your phone. The stress from being behind schedule mixed with your sleep deprivation created a headache to pound in your head. Suddenly, your shoulder harshly knocks into something. You yelp, apologies already spilling from your lips as you continue your rush to the costume department—wherever it was.

“(Y/n)?” A familiar voice with an accent asks. Your shoes come to a halt on the carpeted floors of the studio. Your head whips back to see the warm brown eyes you were once staring into during that audition how many months ago.

“Tom!” You exclaim making your way back to him. You were taken aback by his appearance. The last you saw him he was buffer and had a head full of soft dark brown curls. His body was thinner, cheeks a bit more sunken in, and his curls were long gone replaced with a buzzcut. Though you should’ve expected his change in appearance, you guys were playing heroin addicts for crying out loud. You had also been put on a diet in preparation for your role as Emily, loosing a fair amount of weight yourself.

“Hey, you’re here! I didn’t know you were in Cleveland already. How long have you been here?” He asks, arms pulling you in for a friendly hug. You happily accept the gesture, hugging him back.

“Umm, I actually just got here this morning.” You answer once you both pull away. His eyes widen for a second, “And they already called you in? For fittings right?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d have a day to settle in but we’ve got a tight schedule. Filming starts soon—like in a month and a half?” Though filming didn’t start till the next month or so, the Russo brothers wanted both you and Tom to be in Cleveland a month earlier. This was to help with pre production preparations. It was also used to help you and Tom do research for your roles in Cherry and to get to know each other.

Tom looks at the wall with a raised brow, “Uhh, something like that, yeah.” His eyes flicker back to you, “Where are you off to?”

“To wardrobe, but I can’t find the place and I’m already running late.” You sigh.

“Well, lucky for you, I just came from there. I’ll take you.” He offers, raising his elbow out for you. You smile at him, looping your arm around his and quietly thank him. He leads you to the wardrobe department and drops you off; exchanging a quick joke with the ladies and another hug for you before leaving.

You remember the day you met Tom. You were called back from your audition to do a chemistry read with the lead role of Cherry, who at the time you didn’t know was Tom. Your nerves were at a high that day. You’ve made it so far into the audition process that you hoped your anxiousness wouldn’t get the best of you and mess it up. As an actor, you were used to meeting new faces all the time, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have anxiety when it comes to meeting new people. Questions wracked your brain. What if you didn’t have chemistry with the lead role? What if you did have chemistry but the lead role was a dick? Does your breath smell good? Are your clothes too casual? What if you have to kiss the lead role? What kind of scene were you guys doing?

All your questions and feelings of uneasiness were thrown out the window the moment you saw Tom’s friendly face. He greeted you as if you were long time friends. That sweet smile of his made the tension in your body at ease, it was kind and warm, like it was his silent way of comforting you after picking up on your nerves. Tom was a force in the room, his cheerful and optimistic energy radiating off of him and onto the other people in the room. Maybe that’s why you felt so comfortable to be around him during the chemistry read.

He was very welcoming, taking it upon himself to spark a conversation with you while the casting directors and producers prepared themselves for your chemistry read. You remembered the way he naturally leaned closer to you, bending down a few times to hear you, his eyes remaining on yours while you conversed, the both of you aware of each other’s presence. You weren’t going to lie to yourself; Tom was attractive. He had gorgeous brown eyes that you could never get tired of looking into, a charming smile, and a beautiful personality. He was easy to get along with. The chemistry read ended with smiles from everyone in the room. You remember thinking to yourself, if you were going to be casted, you wouldn’t mind being casted alongside him. Weeks of sitting around and patiently waiting, you get a call from the Russos saying you were casted as Emily.

Fittings only took an hour tops, most of the clothes were bought since there was no need in designing fancy or sparkly costumes. Before leaving the studio building, you had a quick meeting with the Russos. It was mostly about the basic stuff, the run down of the schedule, the filming process, preparations, etc. By the time you were done at the studio, the sun had set and the night sky took over Cleveland. You stopped by a fast food chain for dinner and took it to go. You drive home, eat your food, and your night ends there.

The next time you saw Tom wasn’t that long from when you saw him at the studio. He called you days later, asking if you would like to join him at the VA. As someone who had no experience with drugs or were surrounded by people who faced addictions; drugs was a new territory for you. Of course, you’ve heard about it and learned the basics of it at school, but you’ve never had to act like a heroin addict. Until now.

You drive to the VA on an early Thursday morning, this time not getting lost on your way to your destination. The air was chilly, the sky dark and cloudy after braving a storm. You park your car and send a text off to Tom saying you’ve arrived. You meet up at the entrance of the VA. He was dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. His attire similar to yours, which made you chuckle to yourself. He greets you with a hug, his arms brining you warmth from the cool air.

“Hey, love.” His voice was deep, still fresh from sleep. You smile fondly at him. Though you first met him a few months back, reuniting a few days ago, the boy’s been growing on you.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me.” The two of you remain outside, hesitant to enter the VA. It daunted both you and Tom to face the veterans inside. The VA was a sacred place for them, you didn’t want to overstep boundaries or offend anyone with questions for research. They’ve suffered from PTSD or were recovering from substance abuse, some of them just starting out their recovery. You did not know what to expect or hear once you step foot into the building.

Tom’s feet shift against the pavement, his hands shoved into his pockets, “Yeah, it’s no problem. I just thought that—you know, since we’re the only two playing heroin addicts in the movie, I thought we could do this together.”

You smile reassuringly at him, “No, I get it. I honestly appreciate it, Tom, thank you.” You look around the area. It was a quiet place, not too many cars parked in the parking lot, a few trees scattered, and the building had a tan almost bland colored exterior. Your eyes drift back to Tom’s, which were already on you.

You gesture to the building with your head, “You ready to go in?” Tom nervously breaths in eyeing the building. You catch on to his hesitancy and place your hand on his arm.

“Hey, you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just a bit nervous to talk to them, you know? I don’t want them to think I’m using their suffering as some kind of inspiration for this role.” He explains. You nod understanding, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same way, I don’t want to trespass on their privacy either. Wanna take a minute out here?”

“I think I’m good. How about you?” Tom composes himself. You flash him a tight smile nodding. Together, the two of you enter the VA, greeted by a receptionist who leads you both to a room.

You and Tom spend most of the day at the VA listening to the different stories of veterans who’ve suffered from PTSD and or substance/drug abuse. Some of them were very open and willing to share, telling you the hardships of their experience. Then there were those who were at the start of their recovery journey, a bit closed off, but were still willing to share nonetheless.

Tom watched as you listened to each veteran intently. Your eyes remained on them, your head nodding along, as you asked them questions or added some input to their stories. Unlike Tom, you seemed more composed and calmer than him. This was something he wasn’t used to, he wasn’t used to talking about drugs or military veterans and addiction. All of this talk was uncharted territory for him, it was dark and terrifying, something he never associated himself with. He was glad you agreed to come along because without you he wasn’t sure if he could do this all alone.

Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some kind of attraction towards you. There was just some sense of comfort or tranquility that drew him to you. You had the brightest smile that lit up the room, sometimes he even found himself smiling because of it. He admired the way you greeted each veteran or former drug addict with a comforting smile and talked to them as if they were just a person, and not as someone who’s been suffering. You made the room feel like a safe space for them to share their experiences without feeling like they were being judged.

Tom was quiet for the most part, asking questions when he felt they were necessary or when something peaked his interest. He added a few comments here and there but for most of the time he listened. He listened to the horrifying and heartbreaking experiences of each veteran. There was a point in the interviews where it dawned on Tom that he was going to have to portray what these veterans went through. From the traumas of war, through the struggles of PTSD, to the excessive use of drugs and alcohol—Tom became reluctant in becoming Cherry. Was he really ready to become a heroin addict? Was he mentally prepared to shred himself and be in the mindset of something so ruinous?

From time to time you glanced over at Tom, checking if he was alright. At the start he was a bit fidgety, his leg bouncing and fingers fumbling with each other. His questions came out stuttered but by the middle of the interviews he grew comfortable in the room. Once in a while you would ask him how he was and he would answer with a small nod and an assuring smile. He then would reciprocate the question with a whisper leaning closer for only you to hear.

By the time the last veteran walked out, Tom felt a responsibility to give these people justice. To not only tell their stories and of other veterans around the world, but to bring awareness to the things that they’ve faced. Not only Tom felt that but so did you. These people have opened up to you guys about the darkest and lowest points in their lives, the best way you can both thank them would have to be by portraying your roles as accurate and realistic as possible.

There was a stillness in the room; it was quiet. The only sounds being heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall beside you and the distant sound of cars driving by. Tom was the first to speak, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your brows knitted together, put off by his random comment. “Why’s that?”

Tom shrugs, taking a breath in and turning in his seat to face you, “I couldn’t have done these interviews alone. From trying to make them feel comfortable and asking all these questions, I would’ve felt so overwhelmed. So, thank you.”

Your mouth curves into a small smile, “Give yourself some credit. I couldn’t have done this without you either. I can’t imagine doing these interviews alone, I wouldn’t be able to handle the intensity of all those stories by myself.”

Moments later the two of you finish your time at the VA. You walk towards your car, which was nearest to the building. “This is me.” You gesture to your car.

Tom nods in response. After all the stories he’s heard, he didn’t want to be alone. Sure, he has Harry back at his place, but it just wouldn’t be the same. He wouldn’t understand what was going through Tom’s head. Tom hesitates to ask you if you want to hang out, but after a quick mental argument against himself, he pushes himself to ask, “Um, what are you doing after this?”

You unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll probably stop by Whole Foods or something. I need to fill up my fridge and pick up some stuff at Target that I might need.” You lean against the frame of your car. “Why?”

“Oh, I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something—it’s totally fine, since you’re busy and all.” Tom stutters out as he waved his hand at you. He was a bit disappointed that you were busy, besides not wanting to be by himself, he really wanted to spend time with you. You guys were friendly, but he wanted to get to know you more.

“Hey! If you want, you could come along? I could use the company.” You suggest, lips curving to a half smile. You gesture to his arms and jokingly say, “I could also use a pair of strong arms to help me.”

Tom bashfully chuckles, “I’d like that.” He turns to where his car was parked and motions to it over his shoulder. “I brought my car, so I guess I’ll just follow you there?”

“Yeah, I’ll just, I’ll text you the location.” You hold your phone up.

“Great, I’ll see you then.” Tom confirms and pulls you into a hug. You giggle at how affectionate he can be. You were gonna see him again in just a few minutes; the drive to Whole Foods wasn’t that long.

Tom parks his car besides yours in the Whole Foods parking lot. You both lock up your vehicles and make your way into the market. On the way, Tom grabs a shopping cart for you. You try to steal it away from him, but he insists on pushing the cart the entire time. You take out your list on your phone and navigate your way through the aisles of Whole Foods. While you throw things into the cart, you and Tom converse. The both of you share some basic information, like things about your hometowns, your families and friends, just the general stuff. You guys were talking about pets when you reached cereal aisle.

“I had a Yorkie when I was growing up, he was the sweetest little thing. He sadly passed because of a heart attack.” You reminisced as you scanned the shelves for your preferred cereal brand. Your hand held onto the cart that Tom pushed with his elbows, as he leaned his entire weight onto the cart.

Tom frowned at the mention of your dog, “I’m sorry.” You give him a look, wordlessly telling him that you were ok and have moved on. “So, did you get to bring Tessa to Cleveland?”

“Nope, she’s not too fond of flights, so I don’t put her through the struggle of getting on a plane.” You find your cereal and try to reach for it, “Aww, I would’ve wanted to meet her. From what you told me, she sounds like a sweetheart.”

Tom chuckles at you before coming from behind the cart and helping you get the cereal down. You look at him with a sheepish grin, “I had that, but thank you.”

Tom squints his eyes playfully at you, “Did you really? Because you looked like you were struggling a bit?”

“No, I was stretching.” You quip back eyes twinkling with amusement. You place the box in the cart and drag the cart. Tom chuckles returning to the front of the cart and pushes it. You look back at him, “You wanna have dinner at my place? I could make a pretty good pizza.”

“Is that so? I guess I might have to try it for myself, I’m in.” He agrees. The two of you finish up at Whole Foods. The cart was overflowing with brown bags when you and Tom walked back to your cars. Always the gentleman, Tom helps you put all your bags into your car’s trunk and even takes back the cart to the designated area that stored them. You split off into your separate cars and stop by Target before you go home. Going to Target with Tom was probably one of the most chaotic and hilarious things you’ve ever done. It took you about two hours in Target just to get what you were looking for. Most of the time in the store was you and Tom looking at children’s toys, making fun of weird costumes you found, and finding meaningless shit to buy because why not? You never thought Tom could be a dumbass until you saw him try to bounce a ball onto the floor and make it land onto his head.

“Tom, we’re gonna get in trouble.” You warn him, looking around to see if anyone were looking at you guys. You spot a camera a few feet away but it was nowhere close to you both.

“Don’t worry darling, we won’t. I got you, trust me.” He assures you as he gets himself into position. You shake your head at him while you sip on the coffee you got from Starbucks.

“Wait, so what are you doing again?” You ask.

“I’m going to try and get the ball on my head.” He answers clearly distracted. He digs his sneakers into the floor and prepares himself to bounce the ball. “You ready, darling?”

“No, but go ahead.”

It all happened so quick. Tom being the dumbass he was, underestimated the amount of force he put onto the ball. Instead of the ball bouncing a few feet into the air, it bounces into the next aisle and the next thing you both know you hear a *boing* and a baby crying. You and Tom look at each other with wide eyes. He rushes over to you and helps you maneuver the cart away from the sports section. You’re caged in by his arms, in between the cart and his chest as you both quietly giggle to yourselves.

“I think that’s our cue to leave.” You tell him through more fits of giggles.

The two of you are now in your rented house. You work together in the kitchen, working as a team to figure out the recipe for the pizza dough. Tom is beside you, looking over your shoulder while you both read through the Food Network recipe on your phone.

“Ok, we did all of that. So now we knead the dough, toss it into a bowl and let it rise. Then we could roll it in a little bit.” You read turning your phone off and looking at Tom. He nods and takes the dough out. You sprinkle flour onto your counter and onto the dough as Tom volunteers to knead the pizza dough.

Tom’s Spotify playlist plays lowly in the background. You were both quiet, basking in the comfortable atmosphere between the two of you. Weirdly enough, there was never an awkward moment with Tom. He could say the same thing for you.

You try to avoid the way his arms flex and how his veins pop out as he massages the dough. You glance at his buzzcut hair and ask, “Do you think your hair will grow back by the time you shoot Spider-Man three? Or are we going to have a bald Peter Parker?”

He stops his motions and looks at you shocked, “You’ve watched my Spider-Man movies?”

“Of course I have! I’m a big Marvel fan, my whole family actually is, especially my nephew. We love your version of Spidey—well except my dad and his brother, but besides them we love your version.” You explain. You see a smile twitch onto his lips as he continues his task.

“Wow, thanks. I never thought you’d watch my movies.” Through the warm lights of your kitchen, you see a blush spread onto his cheeks.

“What do you mean?”

Tom stops massaging the pizza dough and looks at you, “Well I’ve—wow this is embarrassing—but I’ve always kinda been a fan of your work. My brothers and I always watch your movies, and they never disappoint us. You’re just amazing! And now I get to work with you, and I’m not going to lie I’m still a bit starstruck, but it’s literally an honor to work with you.”

You look at him taken aback by his confession. You shake yourself out of your shock, “Well I guess that makes the two of us because you still make me a bit starstruck whenever I see you too.”

From that night on, you and Tom always hung out. Whether it be at your house or his, you both managed to spend the entire day together. Sometimes you’d both stay way too late at each other’s house, that you ended up having sleepovers. You guys would still have weekly visits to the VA, doing more research and meeting more veterans. To lighten the mood after, you and Tom would go to Target, get a bunch of junk food and knickknacks, then go to one of your places to watch a movie. The two of you have even explored Cleveland on your own with Harry tagging along once in a while. When Tom found out you were going to be living alone during the duration of filming, he offered that you could stay with him and Harry. Though you didn’t want to intrude on their privacy, both Holland brothers insisted that you live with them. You were still debating on their offer, but you were still spending most of your nights with them anyway.

It was one of those nights again but it was different. Today was the last free day you both had before filming began. It was different because you haven’t portrayed the deeply flawed characters you were both casted as. You and Tom spent the morning at the studio along with the Russos and the rest of the cast doing a table read of the entire movie. Reading and listening to the entire movie out loud made you anxious for the day to come. You were scared that not only you, but Tom, might go down a spiral of darkness throughout the process of this film. Cherry was something new for both of you. Neither of you have worked on a project as cataclysmic or dreadful as Cherry.

You were quitely sat on Tom’s couch staring at the sun setting through his windows. Tom was in the kitchen making the both of you cups of tea to warm you up from the harsh cool air of Cleveland. Harry was in his room, telling you and Tom that he was going to take a nap and to not worry about him. Tom watched you from the kitchen. The sun’s golden rays reflected on your skin, giving it a glow. Your brows were furrowed as you seemed to be deep in thought.

“Wanna sit on the patio and see the sunset from outside?” Tom comes up behind you with a half smile on his lips. You happily nod and take his hand to get off the couch. He slings his arm around you and hands you your jacket. He tells you to go out first and that he’ll meet you outside with the tea.

You sit on the steps of his patio, watching the sky change from shades of blue to a mix of orange, pink, and purple. You hear the door open and footsteps against the wood of the floors. You look up to see Tom holding two cups of tea with a fluffy blanket over his shoulder. A beanie was now on his head and a jumper was pulled over his shirt.

You thank him as he hands you your cup. Tom settles beside you, placing his cup on the steps and began to open up the blanket.

“Why do you have a blanket?” You ask him. He untangles the blanket and puts it over his shoulders, his arm wraps around you, pulling you flush against his side.

“To keep us warm.” He answers while he reaches for his cup. “I tried to find another blanket, but I think Harry took it.”

You brush his comment off, “It’s fine, I like this better.”

A peaceful silence lays upon the two of you as your eyes stare at the sky and your lips sip onto the cup. Tom’s arm remains around you as his fingers draw random patterns onto your arm. Tom was the first to break the silence.

“How do you feel about filming starting tomorrow?” He asks you quietly. Your eyes shift to the tea in your cup.

“Honestly? I’m a bit nervous, especially since we’re starting off with the heroin addiction parts. I don’t know how to feel about it.” You answer.

Tom hums, “I know what you mean. I’m pretty scared too.” Your eyes remove themselves from your cup to look up at Tom.

“Why are you scared?”

“I just—it scares me that all the acting and trying to be in the mindset of Nico might actually affect me. Like maybe by the end of this film, he’ll be a part of me.” He admits, his teeth gritting against each other. You look at him sympathetically. He was truly going through a war in his mind; just by the way he was glaring at the sky and how his fingers stopped drawing on your arm and instead gripped it. It was like he was looking for leverage to stop himself from falling down a loophole of possible outcomes of the end of this movie.

Your hand grasps his hand on your shoulder, catching his attention. His deep brown eyes connect with yours, “You’re not going to turn into Nico, Tom.”

“How do you know that? What if the more I act like him the more I turn into him? (Y/n), what if I get so lost into the character that I eventually loose myself in the process? What do I do when that happens?” He began to ramble, questions spilling from his tongue as he looked at you pleadingly.

You shake your head and squeeze his hand, “It’s not going to happen Tom. You wanna know how I know why?” Tom shakes his head.

“Because we’ll have each other’s backs. I’ll be there right beside you. If you ever feel like you’re spiraling down too deep as Nico, I’ll be there to get you out. You don’t have to go through all of that alone, Tom. I’ll be here for you, you could trust me.” You promise him. Tom’s mind seems to stop racing as his eyes gaze into yours. He finds nothing but honesty in them. You feel his hand fumble with yours before he interlocks them together.

“What if it gets really ugly?”

“You’re allowed to be vulnerable honey, especially around me, I won’t judge. I’ll still be there for you. ” You reassure him. You try to lighten up the mood by bumping your shoulder against his. “Plus, we’re actors, vulnerable is our middle name. How do you think Leo finally got an Oscar?” You joke. The frown on Tom’s face breaks as he stifles a laugh. You smile at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, he was happy.

Your laughter dies down and you’re staring at him again, “But seriously, Tom. I’ll be here for you whether you like it or not, nobody should have to go through the mental capacity of a heroin addict by themselves.”

Tom nods, “Thank you. I can’t imagine anyone else in my corner but you while we film this. You’ve honestly been such a godsend and we haven’t even started filming yet. Thank you for being so understanding and patient with me.” He smiles fondly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple and pulling you into a hug. You hum in response and place your head in the crook of his neck, “You don’t have to thank me.”

Silence once again consumes the both of you. The birds chirp in the distance and the sky has now turned a dark purple. “You can count on me too. I’ll be there for you.” Tom whispers against your hair. You silently thank him, snuggling closer to his warm embrace. The fears of tomorrow slowly fade from your bodies as you watch the darkness consume the light in the sky.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shot #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #tom holland fanfiction #Cherry #ally’s request #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker imagine #Tom Holland fluff

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armysantiny · 3 years

Text

Letters For You - KSN

Pairing: Sunoo x female reader || Enhypen

Genre: fluff, oneshot, request

Includes: Soobin (TXT) mention, translator reader, idol Sunoo, massages, spa day, texts, gifts, coming home late, eating at a café, café, dying hair, KakaoTalk, cuddling, watching kdrama together

Word count: 1518

Warning: food cw

Rating: PG

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @kpopscape, @ultkpopnetwork, @kpopficsnetwork, @kpopcontentcreatorsclub @k-dinernet, @lovesick-net, @whipped-kpop-creators, @prism-nw, @hybenet, @k-library, @k-mysticsnet, @enhypenwriters, @enhypennetwork, @knet-bakery

Tagging:@teeztheflag, @intokook, @cherry-hyejin, @difcore, @ofaffectionate || Taglist Form

An: I hope you like this @xxatinyminionxx! I had so much fun writing this~

Long days at the agency weren’t anything new to Sunoo; just regular procedure. But coming home later than usual felt different ever since he had met y/n. Y/n was his lucky charm – Sunoo’s grounding presence when he would come back from the hectic rush of his schedule. And that night was no different, as the music artist sipped on his coffee on his way home. Entering the passcode for the shared apartment, the dyed-blond removed his jacket and shoes, a relieved sigh falling from him.

The apartment was quite that night however, much quieter than usual – the faint sounds of y/n working on a transcript nowhere to be found. Switching on the lights as he made his way to the kitchen, Sunoo’s eyes were drawn to the covered dishes on the table, and a note addressed to him.

“Does she have a part-time shift today...?” Voicing his thoughts as he went about following the neatly drawn instructions on the note, Sunoo warmed the prepared meal. Y/n had made his favourite, and he could almost distinctly hear – in his head – the subtle sound of y/n humming a nameless song under her breath, occupied with her next cooking project. His face flushed at the thought, humming the last melody he heard y/n singing. Perhaps y/n knew that he’d be home, because she’d video called Sunoo as he was putting the dishes on the drying rack. Picking up the call with a slight yawn, the teen perked up almost immediately.

“Noona! How was your day? Oh – where are you?” Sitting down on the sofa, Sunoo asked his question, parts of y/n’s background seeming vaguely familiar.

“Sunoo baby~ my day was good, I missed you today~ Ah – do you remember my sunbae? The one who went to study film?”

“Oh… Soobin hyung, right?”

“Mhm~ he needed a translator for his project late minute and I was the only one available. I’ll probably be gone for the weekend. I’m sorry baby~ will you be alright?” Y/n explained, an apology finishing her words. Soobin’s call had been the very definition of ‘out-of-the-blue’, but at the time y/n couldn’t deny that her sunbae sounded urgent. In any case, it was only for the weekend; Sunoo would be okay.

By next morning, Sunoo stretched as he slowly started to awake, his bedroom glowing from the light of the morning sun. Looking over to y/n’s side of the bed with a gentle but longing smile on his face, Sunoo traced his fingers over her pillow. She’d be back. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed and making his way to the bathroom to freshen up, the idol went about getting ready for the day ahead. Caught up on whether he should eat breakfast at home or go to a café, Sunoo grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge while he pondered on his options. Not expecting any calls for at least an hour from noon, Sunoo’s brow raised in curiosity when his KakaoTalk notification went off. Once he had read the display name, little butterflies bloomed in his chest as he opened the text message from y/n.

Y/n Noona: Morning baby~ I’ve been translating scripts until 2 am ☹ but I’ve got a long day, so it’s early alarms for me. Have you woken up yet? I saw a really nice breakfast café yesterday, I think you’d like it! I should vanish now, I’ll call you later. Love you, sunshine~

“Breakfast outside it is~”

Finding the café with the address y/n had given him, Sunoo marvelled at the exterior of the café once it had come into view. Had he walked into a kdrama set? The inviting scent of baked treats and hot chocolate were doing him no favours as it took a gentle hold over him, luring him into the ‘trap’ of a sweet breakfast – not that he was complaining, that is. Finding himself in line to order, Sunoo scoured the menu, easily finding something to eat that Saturday morning.

Watching people walk past the café windows while he nibbled on his pastries, Sunoo drummed his fingers against the table, unsure of what he should do to occupy his time. He could go and have a ‘me-day’; go to the spa, get a massage, redye his hair, all of it. Or he could head to the park and have a little picnic for himself, enjoy his break away from filming and schedules. Sipping on his iced coffee, the teen let himself get lost in thought as he set about finishing the rest of his breakfast. Food came first.

Making his way to the spa, Sunoo didn’t forget to make a stop by the library, buying one of the notebooks they had on sale. Y/n would definitely like it. The gift tucked away neatly in his satchel as he walked through the doors of his favourite spa, Sunoo went ahead and booked a massage for himself, a grateful a smile on his face as he took the clothes handed to him and went to the locker rooms to change.

A sigh of relief fell from Sunoo as the masseuse worked on his back, the knots in his shoulders finally being relieved after a long week. Feeling the urge to sleep getting bigger, the faux-blond let his eyes shut, the next thirty minutes passing by like a blur. Next thing he knew, the massage was over and he was being gently woken up by his masseuse.

“Mr Kim...?”

“Oh-oh, I must have fallen asleep. Thank you for the massage!”

“Oh no worries, you must have had a long week. Have a good day~”

“You too!” Bowing after he collected his things, Sunoo left the room, heading back to the locker room – where his clothes were waiting for him. Taking a seat and unlocking his phone, the teen scrolled through Twitter for a while before an – arguably cute – idea struck him. Opening KakaoTalk and recording a voice message for y/n, he sent it, a pleased smile on his face. That pleased smile soon turned into a wide grin as y/n replied almost instantly, cute stickers being sent his way. Snapping a quick picture and sending it, Sunoo put his phone aside as he changed, his heart beating as he anticipated his girlfriend’s reaction.

Y/n’s equally cute picture-reply on his mind as he sat in the salon chair, Sunoo had been getting his roots done, his hair layered between sheets of aluminium as he waited for the bleaching to work. His black roots had started to grow out, and he was due for a redye before it started looking like he had dip-dyed only half of his hair. Or before he started looking like a poorly designed manhwa character. Calling y/n, he asked about her day, listening to her speak with an endearing sense of curiosity on his face.

“I may have good news~” Y/n teased from the other line, watching the scenery pass by from her seat on the coach.

“Oh? Tell me~!” Sunoo replied, a light-hearted whine in his voice as he egged y/n on. He could just about hear the sound of steady traffic in between the momentary silence. “Are you driving Noona?”

“Hmm, kinda? I’ll see you later sunshine! Make sure to eat dinner~”

“I will!”

Returning home that evening after spending the rest of his day with his members, Sunoo opened the door to his shared apartment, a gift bag in hand. The sound of shuffling feet from the bathroom alerted him as he treaded slowly towards the front room. He wasn’t expecting any company, and y/n wasn’t due to return for at least the next day. Snapping his head to the sound of the bathroom door opening, Sunoo’s features brightened almost instantly, leaving his bags on the sofa as he ran over to y/n, engulfing his girlfriend in a hug. A laugh coming from the slightly older woman as she returned the hug, y/n cupped Sunoo’s face in her hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Y/n Noona! When – when did you get home? I thought you were coming home tomorrow?” Following y/n to the sofa, Sunoo pulled y/n’s hand into his own, playing with her fingers while she spoke.

“Ahh, the translator my sunbae was originally going to call made it to the location today. Most of the work was already done, so I managed to get home early. I did well, didn’t I?”

“Yep~”

Cuddled up together as they caught up on their drama, Sunoo paused the scene on screen when he realised that y/n was fast asleep on his shoulder, her subtle comments on the characters no longer accompanying the sounds of the romcom playing on TV. Resisting the urge to take a picture, Sunoo gently lifted y/n’s head, carefully holding her up while sliding a cushion underneath. Tiptoeing to the bedroom and returning with a blanket, he chuckled and covered y/n’s sleeping frame. Tucking in the edges and brushing a stray hair out of y/n’s face, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“You’ve worked hard Noona. I’ll give you your gift tomorrow. Get some rest~”

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0oolookitsme · 3 years

Text

Hello Ms. Baker

Genre- Blurb

Pairing- PrinceHair!Harry x reader

Word Count- 647

Warnings- Curse words.

A/n- I wanted this to be a one-shot but decided to go with a blurb instead so I might make a part 2 for this in future. Enjoy! <3

“Hello?” Y/n said, for the third time and this person seems to be either fucking with her or has some issue with their phone. “Look I’ve other works to do okay. If you don’t have to say anything, I am hanging up.” Getting frustrated she put the phone on speaker and started working around the shop, picking up ribbons, cleaning the fallen petals, cleaned the cherry wooden floor to make it look presentable. She does this all in the first thirty minutes when she opens the shop every morning.

Miss Y/n obviously forgot about the phone so when she hears someone cough, she’s fucking startled, using her iron scale as a weapon she might need.

“Who’s there?” she narrows her eyes. “I-It’s me on the phone idiot” he laughs in a weak voice which only leads to a round of cough. Widening her eyes and mouth forming in a ‘O’ in realization, she puts the scale on counter and goes to talk to him.

“Hey!” she said, smiling because she knows he isn’t here. “Hmm” he hummed clearly waiting for her to ask, “how are you?”, oops she interrupted my writing (bitch). “Not good, what about you?” he said, knowing she knows that he has cold. “I’m good, yeah. How did you catch cold?” she asked, rolling her eyes because she did exactly what he wanted her to do.

“I don’t know” he said preparing for the pregnant pause he just told her to create and she indeed did create it to prepare herself for the lecture she’s giving him time for.

“Serious-“ he cuts her off midsentence and hastily says “I know but can you please handle my shop too? Just for today!”

Making a ‘Bitch you serious’ face she’s quick to say a “No? You can just keep it close, you haven’t taken a break in a while either.” “Yeah but there are many orders today! The cakes are prepared and are stored in the fridge! Please! The breads are also in the showcase area!” he begs her, ready to get on his knees. “Fine, but I will call you if there’s any problem, okay!” she tells and asks him. “Yes of course! Oh my god, thank you so much!” cheering he says. “You’re welcome, get well soon!” she smiles mumbling a ‘don’t want to manage your shop for days, right?” which was meant for him to hear and she was confirmed he did because of the breathy laugh heard from the other side before she hung up.

Shuffling around her store to find a spare key to his shop she keeps it on the counter as when she’s done setting up her store she will go to his.

He wasn’t lying when he said there were many orders today. The fridge was stuffed with cake and pastry boxes in the morning and now most of them are gone.

Literally everyone asked her about him to which she said “I’m covering up for him today. I think he will be here tomorrow though!” to which they smiled, some even muttered encouragements for her, and left. The customers of her own shop asked her too and she answered them the same to which some of them replied with “Awh, that’s sweet of you!” and “Get home soon today, you must be tired love” and that just made her heart burst with the feeling of home.

As soon as it hit eight, she went to close her shop and returned to close his.

Turning around to make her way home and talk to him on the way, she was alarmed when she heard a raspy “Hello Ms. Baker” in her ear, the warm breath warming up her whole face and sending zips of electricity down her spine. The cough followed behind kind of ruined the moment but made her laugh any way.

“Hello Mr. Cold Catcher”.

⊱ ────── {END} ────── ⊰

#harry styles #harry styles concept #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #baker!harry #florist!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry edward styles #fanfiction #writeblr #reader insert #thanks for reading #byeeeee #My: Writings

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skywalkerstyles · 3 years

Text

Skin (Bakugou x OC!Reader insert)

Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, quirkless AU, criminal Bakugou, robbery, hostage situation, anxiety, mysophobia

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Hikaru Moshimoto is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Hikaru is taken hostage and forced to work with Bakugou in order to survive, will the be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Hikaru started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Bakugou protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list?

Hikaru Moshimato felt sick when she woke up that chilly september morning. Monday, September fifteenth to be exact. It was a day she would never forget or get over. It changed the course of her life forever.

It started out like any other morning, she got up, got dressed, had breakfast, fed her little cat Yoshi and headed out the door on her way to work. But there was a presence, it was dark and gloomy, and hung over her like a shadow. Something was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. At all.

She pulled up to the little gas station by her job, it had a little convenience store attached, a place she could grab snacks and drinks before work, the vending machines there were usually way overpriced, so it was easier to just bring food with her. She got out of her car, locking the doors as she held her wallet close to her chest, tucked her head down and walked inside.

She sighed, upon stepping into the cool air conditioned building, and instead of walking up to the counter and just paying for her gas she eyed the slushie station. She loved slushies, and she could never pass one up. She smiled to herself thinking, fuck it, and strolled over to the slushie machine. There was a man standing to the side of the machine, where the fridges held the drinks, he had a Redbull in one hand and a smartwater in the other. He wore an unbuttoned, navy blue flannel with a black t shirt and grease stained blue jeans. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and his hair was covered by a blue and white striped baseball cap. Hikaru was hyper aware of his presence, making sure to keep aware of her surroundings. She didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy. He scared her. Seemed like trouble.

But if he noticed her presence, he didn't show any signs of it.

So Hikaru relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head and began to ponder the flavor she’d get today. Hikaru had never been one for conversation anyway. She always kept to herself, due to some social anxieties and quirks she had, that made her ‘unapproachable’ as her mother had put it. But if you had a doctor mother who abused prescription medication and neglected you after your father’s death, you might have some fucked up issues too.

Which is why she found it strange when she felt the man’s presence shift, he’d come closer to her, and she could feel him staring. She kept her eyes down, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled a cup from the slot and got ready to pour her syrupy drink into it.

"What's your favorite flavour?" He asked suddenly, and the deep rough voice startled her. She twitched and peek at him curiously through her hair, that thankfully, covered most of her face.

"Coke." she answered meekly. The man cracked a smile, his teeth were perfect and bright. It was almost, alluring. Definitely charming.

“Really?” he asked, reaching out and taking the cup from her. She didn’t have time to react, before he plucked it from her hands and filled it with the drink of her choice. “I like blue raspberry best….sometimes cherry’s good too.” He handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly. He chuckled at her demeanor, cocking his head to the side, that ridiculously handsome smile still plastered to his face.

“Thank you.” she managed after a moment, she placed a lid on her drink and grabbed a straw.

“No problem,” he replied, following her as she turned towards the cashier. She can feel the panic and the nerves rising within her. Why was he following her? As they stood in line, waiting for the other customers to leave, she could feel the man change, his whole demeanor took on a darker, more serious tone. She curled in on herself, hoping he wouldn’t try and follow her to her car. Hikaru hadn’t always been this way. Afraid of germs, afraid of touch….Basic human contact. No. If you looked at her high school yearbook, you wouldn’t even think it was the same person. She used to be bright, and outgoing, willing to chat it up with just about anybody, a regular teenage girl. Until Amano. And...Hina... She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand, get the drink. Get the gas. Go to work. She took a deep breath, she would complete her goals today.

“Hi! How are you today?” a cheery red head smiled at Hikaru, she tried to smile back, and return the enthusiasm, but the feeling of dread was starting to creep back up on her and she couldn’t shake it off.

“I’m fine thank you. Ten dollars on pump-”

“Shut up.” Hikaru feels a strong hand wrap around her upper arm and tug her back, she looked up to see the man who had been by the slurpee machine, pulling her towards him, a pistol in his hand, pointed right at the cashier. Hikaru squeaked as the man pulls her into him, jabbing the gun into her side. “Give me all the money in the register, or you, and her die. Now!” Hikaru flinches at the last word, which he snarled at the cashier. She had her hands up, tears streaming down her face. “Move.” he ordered. The cashier slammed a metal grate down and an alarm began to sound. The man held onto Hikaru even harder, yanking her around as he turned to find an exit. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hikaru shifted, trying to wriggle free. He pulled her closer, he was big and intimidating. He reminded her of Amano. “You’re not going anywhere.” he said. “I need you. Come on.”

Panic began to rise within Hikaru, she could feel her breath growing more ragged by the minute, all the things she needed to get done shooting through her head. The man dragged her towards the back of the store and into the warehouse, once inside, he shut and locked the door, shoving her from him and holding the gun to her. Surprisingly, the slushie hasn’t spilled. “Don’t move.” he said coldly. A sob escaped her throat, the bubble was rising, she could feel the panic getting ready to burst.

“P-Please,” she rasped, her throat was closing, she couldn’t breathe.“I-I have money.”

“I don’t want your money. We need to get out of here.” Hikaru looked at him confused.

“W-we?” the man grabbed her again, yanking her towards the back of the warehouse.

“Yeah. We. You’re my hostage,” fear filled her as the man’s lips curled into a confident smirk. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and yanked her forward, cuffing her. “Don’t struggle. And you live.” She was about to faint. The alarm was blaring, but through the sound Hikaru could hear the doors bursting open. The same doors she had walked into only minutes ago, it seemed like hours now. The man cursed again, kicking the back exit door open and shoving her through.

________________

They hid behind a dumpster, he peaked out, looking around to see cops, flooding into the gas station, Hikaru shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs were tight on her wrists, digging into her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “A-are you a criminal?” she asked. He didn’t even turn to look at her, inching forward slowly, his hand still gripping her tightly.

"Yeah."that was it. No explanation. Just a straight no bull answer. As the cops go into the front of the store, the man gripped her tightly and yanked her towards an older Astro van. Hikaru pondered why no cops were looking over towards them, how no one could see he was taking her. But it would be just her luck. He threw the passenger door open, shoving her inside, before running around to the otherside and climbing in. The door shut with a slam and he pealed out and away, the cops just noticing as you leave the gas station. The sweet and tasty slushie, left on the floor of the warehouse.

____________

The van was loud. It sent deep rumbles of vibration all the way down to Hikaru’s bones. Like a massage after the chaos back at the gas station. Her hands are still bound but the man had finally stowed the gun. There was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. She was stuck and she stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, so low he might not even hear her. He stopped drumming and turned to look at her for the first time since he’d taken her.

"Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed some cash….but damn that cashier was quick on her feet. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

“W-why do you say that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep blood red.

“You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” she shook her head. The news gave her anxiety. The only time she left her dorm was for class or work. Necessities. She kept to herself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

“Why do you ask?” she asked a bit louder. She watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

“I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

She decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

“I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Hikaru feels the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

“M-my…..it’s Hikaru.” she said, wishing she sounded braver than she felt. “Hikaru Moshimoto.”

“I’m Bakugou, Bakugou Katsuki.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

“Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked his laugh.

“Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

“H-How many…” Hikaru trailed off, unable to finish her question. It was strange, she could never talk and be this open with just anybody. She usually just kept quiet, and stayed in her lane. She wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

“How many people have I killed?” Bakugou finished for her. She nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of her thoughts. He can tell that she’s got something going on. She looked so small and fragile. Like the china plates his mom used to collect. He really didn’t want to hurt her, and silently prayed he’d never have to. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” Hikaru’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Oh my….” she instinctively moved further from him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of rejection. She focused on her shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep her from going crazy. They sat in silence for a long while. Bakugou began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except she saw it. "So where are you taking me?" Hikaru asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again

“I’m taking you to my family. You’re my hostage for now, but they’ll decide if you know too much or have seen too much.” Hikaru swallowed hard, wondering what that could possibly mean. He must have sensed her worry, because he reached out, only to pull his hand back when she flinched, with a sigh. “Just don’t worry….You seem harmless enough.”

“Can you take the cuffs off? Please? They hurt.” Bakugou pulls off onto the side of the road.

"Don't try anything, okay? I have a gun." Bakugou met her eyes as he shut off the van and turned to her, he looked down to her hands. He quickly unlocked the cuffs and sat back. She rubbed her swollen wrists and he started the car back up.

“Are you scared?” he asked after a while. Hikaru looked up at him again. She noticed he had freckles, they were light and scattered across his cheeks...He’d be a good subject to draw.

“I….” she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m terrified…..I know that mentally….But I guess I’ve shut down. I don’t really feeling anything.”

“Why?” he asked, suddenly curious. Did he want her to be afraid.

“I’ve been in….I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” he scoffed at that, disbelievingly.

“You’re my hostage. I had you at gunpoint. I’m kidnapping you and you’ve been in worse situations?” she smiles at how ludicrous it sounds.

“It does sound crazy but….I don’t know. I have a lot of anxiety disorders and I’ve been struggling with depression so I….maybe this was too much and my body is protecting itself.” he pursed his lips together.

“How old are you?”

“22.”

Shit. He thought. She’s just a kid. “I’m sorry it had to be you.” she gave him a questioning look. “In the store. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have taken you.” she nodded, not quite accepting his apology, but understanding, that he knew, she had been through some shit.

“I haven’t…..I haven’t left this town my entire life.” she said quietly, changing the subject. Bakugou picked up her switch in demeanor and followed it, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah?” she tried to smile, it was small and tight, but she could feel the uneasiness begin to grow again.

“Yeah….where is your family?”

“You’ll see,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll like it better than this dump.” he snorted as they passed the ‘Leaving Town’ sign.

“Why did you come here?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” she nodded, sinking back into her seat. Bakugou cleared his throat and turned the radio back up. “Better settle in. We got a long drive…..what kind of music do you like?”

________

He shut the door behind him. The dorm room was quiet and he couldn’t feel her presence as he looked around. Everything was in it’s rightful place, meticulous and germ freak as ever. He missed her so much. He walked over to Hikaru’s desk and lifted the sketchbook that sat open on it, he touched the lines of the person she drew, imagining the way she drew it, the way her hands moved. His heart was racing. It was 4pm and she should have been home now. She didn’t have any friends.

Where was she?

Where was the girl he’d been searching for for so long?

He was dying to see her again…….

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x oc #bakugou bnha #bnha #bakugou imagine #bakugou one shot #bakugou fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha bakugou #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia one shot #my hero academia imagine

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Twelve - Heaven On Earth

Word Count: 2154

Author’s Note: So, I hope you are all enjoying this story. I’m really loving writing it, and I think it might end up being quite a long story. Would you guys want shorter stuff? Mini series or one shots? If so, let me know! Happy to open up ask box for prompts.

WARNING: none.

March, 2007.

"You're so tan!" Pam squeaked as she pulled away, taking a hold of your hands. Jim was still hugging you from behind, his arms resting on your shoulders. "And skinny! Oh my God you look like a model." She complimented, and Jim laughed.

"You really thought we wouldn't come get you?" He said, registering your shocked face. You were lost for words in all honesty, and Jim broke away to take your bags for you. "Come on, airport parking is way too expensive." He marched ahead, bags in hand, as you and Pam shared a quick hug, arms linked as you followed after him.

"I can't believe you guys came... I just..." you felt tears in your eyes, and Pam cooed at you, squeezing your hand.

"Like we would let you do this alone? You need to check whatever voicemails Jan left for you, by the way. Jim was talking with her all afternoon." Pam said, and the pair of you exited the building into the warm May evening air, Jim waving you over from the car. You hurried towards him, Pam getting in the back and you taking shotgun. Jim started the engine and sped away, continuing to glance over at you expectantly. You looked back, laughing.

"What?!" You said, and he rolled his eyes.

"The voicemails!" He said, and you pulled out your phone, flipping it open and putting it on speaker as you dialled the voicemail number.

"You have 4 unheard messages." The automated voice announced, and a beep followed.

"Hi Y/N, Jan again. We got confirmation here, no doubt that you have been told too. I have a few leads going on, give me the day." Another beep. "Jan here. Jim got in touch with me, and we have some ideas." You glanced over at him, unable to stop the smile on your face appearing. Beep. "I talked with my boss at lunch, fought your case to stay with the company. He's going to talk with his boss... Progress, Y/N." The final beep. "Good news, finally! Get yourself to the Scranton branch by noon tomorrow, we'll be discussing your new role in the company with Michael... He's still unhappy about the whole leaving thing, but Pam softened him up a little. See you tomorrow... This is Jan, by the way. Right, goodnight." The call hung up, and you looked between the two of them.

"How did you..."

"We had some help... Dwight even pitched in, and Karen from Stamford." Pam explained, and you felt your heart close to bursting. Whatever fears and worries had been swept away by your friends, and you shook your head in amazement.

"I... I cannot believe you both. Thank you. Thank you!" You squealed, letting out a laugh. "I still have a job!"

—

You arrived in Scranton around 2 am, and after dropping off Pam at your old apartment, you and Jim headed towards his new place. With the transfer to Stamford came a pay rise, and Jim was now in a bottom floor two bedroom apartment in the Scranton suburbs, the guest bedroom already made up for your arrival. The drive over there was quiet, the radio playing some pop ballad as Jim turned into a quaint little street lined with blossom trees.

"Scranton sweet Scranton..." you muttered as the car parked in Jim's driveway, and you stepped out. Jim ran round to the trunk, grabbing your bags and insisting on carrying them, tossing you his house keys to let yourself in. You did so, and walked into the hallway.

Jim had been living there for a few months, but it was already home. His old couch in the living room up ahead, the pictures he used to keep on his kitchen pinboard now framed and decorating the wall to your left. Memories of his college years, of his years at Scranton, of you and Pam and Jim together, of his parents, and finally, of a woman you didn't yet know.

As Jim came through the door with your bags, he saw you looking at one photo in particular, and he closed the front door quickly, setting down your things and walking over, hands in pockets.

"That's Karen." He informed you, and you smiled wider.

"I can't wait to meet her." You said softly, and looked up at him. He hadn't changed much, still that goofy smile and mess of hair. But he looked more toned, losing what was left of his 'baby' fat, and he had seemed to have adopted a better dress sense.

"I have pizza arriving in about ten minutes." He said with a nervous laugh, and you reached up, hugging him for the first time in eleven months. The tension dissolved with it, that hug. His arms instinctively went for your waist, and he lifted you a little as you held onto him, your heel toes brushing against the floor.

"I missed you..." you said softly into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of Jim you had lost while you traversed the European continent, and he squeezed tighter.

"I missed you more..." He responded, and you stayed there a little longer, not wanting to let go. You had three-quarters of a year to make up for, after all.

You broke apart after a minute or two, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you pulled away and he placed you back on the floor.

"You watch for the pizza, I'll dump your stuff in your room?" He suggested, and you nodded, slipping into the kitchen and opening the fridge for some beer. You pulled out two cans, and headed through to the living room. You scooped up the cash Jim had left out as the doorbell rang, quickly paying for the pizzas and meeting Jim on the couch.

"I was going to pay, but all I have is euros..." You admitted, and Jim laughed, turning on the tv and taking a sip of his beer. You sat down beside him, and his arm went over the back of you, and you rested your head on his shoulder, sipping at your beer as Jim rambled, trying to grab your attention for picking a movie. You eventually sat up from your spot to get a slice of pizza, and Jim picked the first Men in Black.

And as you got comfy again, realising how much you had missed Scranton pizza and Jim's couch, you couldn't help but feel completely content. This was what you had left for work? In hindsight, it felt like the wrong decision, because this, Jim's laugh vibrating through your body and his finger drawing circles on your arm, this was heaven on Earth.

No European city could top pizza with Jim Halpert.

—

Jim didn't expect to be left breathless.

But when Y/N walked through those doors, he couldn't look away. In the harsh airport lighting, you almost glowed, and it caught him off guard how much eleven months could change you: your hair was darker, and had grown out a little, curling down past your shoulders now. You had gotten a tan after spending your time travelling southern Europe, and, despite the heartbreak that had led to you leaving in the first place, the smile that appeared on you face as Pam screeched and began running over was more than enough to steal away Jim's breath.

And it was a reminder of how much he missed you, every syllable that passed your lips, the scoffs and laugh, the way you rolled your eyes. And, once you were back at his place, it was the way you cuddled into him, your corny jokes,and those bright eyes that sparkled in low light.

When you passed out mid-film, he carried you up to the guest bedroom, laying you in the bed and turning off the lights before heading to his own room. The clock read 3.47 am, and Jim was ok not sleeping that night. It would have usually annoyed him, having to go into the office sleep deprived, but with you finally back, he couldn't help but be happy.

So, Jim didn't really sleep, instead closing his eyes and letting the silence wash over him, lying over the covers and breathing deeply. Resting, but never quite tipping the scales to unconsciousness. When his alarm clock went off, he jumped off the bed and headed to make you a fresh cup of coffee, with a splash of milk and a bucket load of sugar, how he always used to make it for you. He knocking gently on the door guest bedroom door, waking you.

"Y/N?" He called, and chuckled when you responded with a groan. He walked in, sitting on the edge of the bed as he waited for you to register his presence.

"Jim... Why the fuck did you let me sleep in jeans?" You whined, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up against the headboard. You gratefully accepted the coffee, and smiled after you tried it. "You remembered how I like it." You said with a gorggy voice, and Jim nodded.

"So, Jan is going to be at the office at 12, so if you want to stay here and sleep longer I can leave you a set of keys?" He suggested, and you shook your head, taking another sip and blinking fast, trying to wake up.

"No, I'll come in with you, I'd love to distract the office for a morning." You giggled, and Jim grinned. He loved that sound.

"Well, I'll leave you to get ready. Shower and stuff are through there... Leave in an hour?" You nodded along with his words, and Jim disappeared out the bedroom door. You sat in bed for a little longer, finishing up your coffee and admiring the view of the cherry blossoms you had from the window. Once the mug was truly empty, you sorted through your suitcase, retreiving the basics, and went about the process of getting ready: showering, drying and styling your hair, applying makeup, brushing your teeth, the works. And after picking out a white boat neckline blouse and burgundy pencil skirt, your slipped into some complimenting heels and double checked your handbag still had everything you needed.

You left your bedroom to find Jim searching for his other shoe, his shirt half tucked in to his trousers, odd socks on his feet.

"Halpert..." You got his attention, and he looked up at you, stopping in his tracks. You gestured to the coffee table, under which sat his other shoe.

"Ah, thanks." He said with a goofy smile, half-embarassed. You walked over after he had slipped it on, and buttoned the top buttons of his shirt, fixing his tie into place.

"There we go, now you don't look like a guy leaving a strip club." You teased him, and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Start the car? I just need to grab my bag." Jim requested, and you nodded, taking the keys from the bowl by the door and heading out into the driveway, unlocking the doors of Jim's silver Subaru and putting your handbag in the back, slipping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Jim appeared a few seconds later, locking the front door quickly and jumping in the passenger side, raising an eyebrow to you.

"What? They drive on the right in Europe. We'll be fine." You promised, and Jim turned on the radio as you pulled out of the driveway. "I will need directions though." You added.

"Left at the end, next big junction take a right, follow the road until you spot the usual turn for the business park." Jim said, settling into his seat. The previous song on the radio ended, and the DJ announced a new track, the beat making you and Jim share a look. It was far too early for a sing along car ride, true, but neither of you could resist.

"Love me, love me, say that you love me!" Jim sang out in a falsetto, handing the imaginary microphone to you.

"Say that you love me!" You sang along through laughter.

"Fool me, fool me-"

"Go on and fool meee." The back and forth of the song, followed by Jim's rendition of 'Piano Man', arrived you both at the office out of breath from giggles and five minutes early. And you looked up at the building, taking a gulping breath.

A whole year, and you were back again. Parked in the same spot, looking up at the building you had so willingly left for Europe. It hadn't changed, but you had, and a sudden pit opened in your stomach. What if everyone hated you? Resented you for leaving?

"You go ahead Jim... I need to make a quick call." You lied, but Jim seemed to buy it. He gave your hand a squeeze and left you to it.

You had come home, and you had never been more terrified.

Tags: @imsuperawkward @rosie2801 @onceuponahuntersrealm

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stefciastark · 3 years

Text

Identity Reveal ~ Webpril Day 12

A/N: Peter accidentally posts a Spiderman photo to his personal account, and a personal photo to his Spiderman account. Panic and Irondad ensues. This is a bit of a shorter one, but this fill was inspired by an anonymous prompt submission to IronDadPrompts' blog, and I just had to roll with it!

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

Seeing the multicoloured bar reach its final destination on the top right of his screen, Peter admired his handiwork for a moment before switching his phone off and putting it back in his back pocket.

The golden hour lighting gave his most recent selfie an ethereal look, and he proudly captioned the photo “Sunsets are my sol-mates” followed by an emoji wearing black sunglasses and a smiling sun.

The selfie was in stark contrast to the picture he posted moments before to his ‘friendlyneighborhoodspider’ account. The chaos in that image was palpable, a frenzied and partially blurry photo taken while Peter was swinging, bright pink handbag in hand taken from a local thief. He had captioned it: “Has anyone lost this?” He never did find who it belonged to.

He finally rounded the last corner to his apartment building, the sun now completely set, bathing New York in a blanket of darkness. He oddly felt more at ease in the night than he did when the sun was at its peak. He supposed that went with the territory of being an undercover hero.

Leaping up the last two steps to the seventh floor, he closed the apartment door behind him.

“May? You home?”

Hearing no response, he made his way through the kitchen and stopped when he saw a note written on the countertop.

There’s some leftover lasagna in the fridge for dinner. I’ll be late tonight, so I’ll see you in the morning.

Aunt May xx

Right...May had her F.E.A.S.T function tonight.

As much as he loved coming home to his caring aunt, he rarely got time to himself as just Peter Parker.

He smiled to himself, taking his phone out and leaving it face down on the kitchen table. Tossing his backpack haphazardly into his bedroom, he returned to the kitchen and began reheating the lasagna, the smell of warm pasta, beef and love flooding the apartment.

As soon as the beep of the microwave faded into silence, his phone began to buzz, an obnoxiously loud rendition of the Imperial March blasting through his phone speakers. Flipping the device over, he almost fumbled and dropped it - not like another crack on his screen would matter - as the name ‘Tony Stark’ filled his Lock Screen.

“H-hey Mr Stark, how’s it going?”

“Hey kid. Look, I just wanted to say I’m real proud of you for finally coming out with it. Not how I would have done it, but maybe that’s for the best. What’s th-”

Peter furrowed his brows, trying to remember if he’d done anything recently to warrant a call from Tony, much less a congratulatory call from Tony. “Uh, Mr Stark,” he laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”

“Your big Spiderman reveal on, the hell do you guys call it… the ‘Gram’,” Peter could practically hear the air quotations. “What do you think I’m talking about?”

Peter didn’t immediately respond, but Tony could hear the intensity of Peter’s taps on his phone screen. Tony suddenly felt a lot more ill at ease.

“Oh shit,” Peter breathed. He saved that kind of language for special occasions, and this fit the bill. What he saw made his blood run cold. Thousands upon thousands of comments and likes flooded both his personal and Spiderman Instagram page. Ranging from “HA! Knew it” to “Spiderman’s a kid? I suddenly feel a lot less safe now…”, Peter suddenly felt very under the spotlight, and not in the cool way he’d always dreamt of. But it wasn’t the influx of comments or the sheer magnitude of likes and notifications sending his phone into a frenzy. It was the image of himself, backed by the afternoon sun that was his “sol-mate”, the username ‘friendlyneighborhoodspider’ sitting like a cherry atop his Panic Cake. Just below it, p.parker8101 had posted a photo of Spiderman, the strap of a bubblegum pink handbag grasped between his fingers.

“Peter, listen to me, just breathe.” Tony knew a panic attack when he heard one. Peter complied, a deep inhale that made Peter’s whole frame shake more than the earthquake that had rocked Sterling Hill. Tony knit his brow, suddenly and overwhelmingly very concerned for his kid. The cause of Peter’s panic dawned on him quickly. “You didn’t mean to post it, did you…” Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose from the other side of the call. “Oh, Pete.”

Peter couldn’t think through the sheer panic. Whenever he’d been confronted with a threat or dangerous situation - which was just an occupational hazard he’d experienced with alarming frequency - his go-to strategy was just to outmanoeuvre the bad guys, send a good punch flying, and get the innocent bystanders out of harm's way. This had now become so far out of his control that he didn’t have a clue where to start, and he was beginning to think that it might not be something he could come back from.

He felt more than heard himself say the words, chest heaving with sporadic breaths in his futile attempt to calm down. “W-what do I do, what d-did you do?”

Tony grimaced, knowing he had to tread lightly. It had been different for Tony, coming out as Ironman. It had been almost instantaneous, in the grand scheme of his hero career. It had been on his terms, and he had been ready. Peter, well...Peter was facing something that could either make or break Spiderman. It could make or break Peter.

“Things were a bit different for me, kiddo. The best advice I can give you is this: own it. Don’t let any of the hate get to you. It’s hard, I know, but what’s done is done and as of right now you don’t have two separate lives anymore, and you’re going to have to learn to live with that. If you can’t, are you prepared to let Spiderman go?”

“No,” Peter sniffed, wiping his sleeve across the frustrated tears that spilled down his cheeks. But Tony was right. There was no use in crying over spilt milk. Maybe there’d even be a silver lining, although Peter was having a hard time thinking what that could possibly be in that moment.

“That’s what I thought.” Tony opened his contacts, already composing a text message. “Tell you what, I’ll get Happy to come get you, and we can talk this through. I’ve got you, we’ll figure this out.”

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

Baking Day

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

You rolled over and looked at your alarm clock to see that it was 7:47 am. You had a lot to do that day, and you wanted to get an early start. First order of business was a shower, then fix breakfast for you and the boys. After that, it was time to start baking treats to stock up in the freezer for winter.

Once you'd had your shower, you started your preparations for breakfast. You pulled out the skillet for frying bacon, then cracked some eggs into a bowl and whisked them together. You chopped some onions and diced some ham to add to the eggs. As the bacon started to turn crispy, you bustled about the kitchen making coffee and setting up the toaster.

Sam wandered into the kitchen and flipped the bacon over in the pan. "Oh, thank you, Sam. I was just coming back to do that," you mentioned.

"No problem, I've got it. You're up awfully early this morning," Sam remarked with a sidelong glance.

"Have a lot to do today. It's time to get started on the winter baking to stock up the freezer," you explained.

"Ooh, really? What are you making?" he asked with great interest.

"Some cookies, breads and of course, pie," you replied.

"Did someone say 'pie'?" asked Dean, who walked in more alert than usual.

You chuckled as you removed the last of the bacon from the pan and started cooking the eggs with the ham and onions in it. "Yes, Dean, there will be pie," you confirmed. "Some for the freezer, but I'll keep one out fresh just for you," you teased, tweaking his nose.

"Aw, you're too good to me sweetheart," he remarked.

"Hope you remember that the next time I ask to borrow the Impala," you replied with a grin over your shoulder. Then you returned your attention to finishing the eggs. You reached into the fridge for the cheese and mixed some in. Once it had melted, you transferred the eggs to a serving bowl and placed it on the table.

By this time, Jack had joined Sam and Dean at the table. "Wow, this looks great!" Jack exclaimed. "I was just going to have cereal, but this looks much better!" he gushed.

"Thank you, Jack. Eat up boys, but please don't take too long. I have a lot of baking to do today," you mentioned.

Jack turned to you after filling his plate with eggs, bacon and toast. "Can we help?" he asked enthusiastically.

You preferred to have the kitchen to yourself on a day like this, but you didn't have the heart to say no to Jack. "O-okay, does anyone else want to help?"

"I would, but Dean and I have a hunt to prepare for. It looks like a pretty simple salt-and-burn, but I still need to research," Sam explained.

"Well, Cas isn't here at the moment, so looks like it's just you and me today, Jack," you said brightly. "We'll clean up from breakfast, then get started, okay?" you asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jack's blue eyes lit up with excitement at the chance to help you. While the boys are out hunting, you saw it as your job to take care of everyone in the bunker, especially him. You make sure the boys all have clean clothes, that injuries are patched up and you certainly keep them all well-fed. Almost like their mother, you thought with a smile. You get after Dean when he drinks more beer than water. You nudge Sam to go off to bed when he falls asleep researching in the library late at night. You're always available for Cas whenever he has questions about human customs or pop culture references.

And you've always been there for Jack whenever he has a nightmare, which you noticed has been happening a lot lately. He usually doesn't realize you're there, though, until you bring him out of it. You place a cold washcloth on his forehead and take his hand gently in yours as he slowly but surely wakes up.

As soon as Jack opens his eyes, he sort of collapses into your arms, burying his head in your shoulder. You rock him back and forth, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words in his ear. Once he calms down again, you gently lay him on his bed. His eyes usually close again as soon as his head hits the pillow. You brush the hair from his forehead, kiss his temple and slip out the door back to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With Jack's assistance, you cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. Next, you pulled your mixing bowls out of the cupboards. "Okay, Jack, let's get started! First, we'll make the pumpkin and banana breads. Which one would you like to make?" you asked.

He thought for a minute, and decided he would make the banana bread. You gave him a mixing bowl and one of the box mixes. He followed you step by step, adding the eggs and other ingredients. Together, you poured the batter into the respective loaf pans, slid them into the oven and set the timer.

You smiled at Jack, who beamed at you in return. He was happy to be included in something he considered to be so important, and to be spending time with you. "Next item on the list, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies!" you declared. You took out your largest mixing bowl and added the butter, sugar and other ingredients. As you called them out, Jack made it his mission to find each ingredient in the cupboard or the fridge and bring it to you.

When it came time to add the chocolate chips, you told Jack to hold out his hands. You opened the bag, then poured some in his hands. You poured some into your hand and just before popping them in your mouth, you winked and grinned at Jack. He followed your example and groaned in appreciation as the chocolate melted in his mouth.

By the time you had finished making the cookie batter, the pumpkin and banana breads were finished baking. You turned to pull them out of the oven, but Jack already had one of the loaf pans in his bare hands. "Oh my goodness, Jack! Put that down on the counter right now, you'll burn your fingers!" He did as he was told and you frantically grabbed his hands to check for injuries. You didn't care if the rest of the bread loaves burned. You were more concerned with seeing if Jack was hurt.

You pulled him over to the sink and started a stream of cold water. You held his hands under the cold water, hoping blisters wouldn't form on his fingers. After a few minutes, you pulled his hands out from under the water to inspect them. You were relieved to see that there were no blisters from what would normally have been a second or third degree burn. You turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, trying to collect your thoughts.

Jack nudged your arm then laid a hand on your shoulder. "A-Are you all right?" he asked.

"I should be asking you that, Jack. I am so sorry, I should've told you about using the oven mitts to take things out of the oven," you explained. You walked over to where the mitts were hanging on the wall and pulled them on. You removed the remaining loaves of bread, set them on the counter and closed the oven.

"Jack, I apologize. You really could have gotten hurt, even though I know you can heal your own injuries. A mom is supposed to give you proper instructions on what do when the oven timer goes off," you muttered. "I-I mean, a mom-type person," you quickly corrected.

"But I am not injured. I was able to heal myself, so everything's okay," he said as he showed me both hands.

"Yes, I know, Jack, but you can't always count on that. From now on, let's be careful, okay? Please?" you implored.

He thought for a few seconds, then smiled at you. "Okay, I promise," he grinned and gave you a hug.

"All righty, Jack. Let's get back to work. Carefully, though," you cautioned as you returned his embrace.

The rest of the baking was completed without further injury to either you or Jack. True to your word, you left one apple pie out on the counter for Dean to sample when he and Sam got back. The freezer was now stocked with pumpkin and banana breads, as well as apple, cherry and peach pies. There were also dozens of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to have with hot cocoa on cold winter nights.

You had just closed the freezer with all of the newly-baked goodies when you heard a whoosh of wings, signaling the arrival of Castiel. "Good evening, Cas," you said with a weary smile. Just his mere presence made your heart happy. You hoped that it wasn't too obvious that you had a crush on your angel friend. You were pretty sure that Sam and Dean didn't know, otherwise, you'd never hear the end of it. That, and you doubted that Cas felt for you anything remotely like you felt for him.

When you first met Castiel, you were mesmerized by the intensity of his ocean-blue eyes. They seemed to peer straight into your soul, as if trying to see all of your secrets. You admired how he would always strive to do what was right, even when it was difficult. He was kind, loyal and his innocence regarding certain topics was endearing to you. You loved the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly, which made his thoughts on any subject something worth listening to.

"Good evening to you. I see you have been busy today, judging by all of the dirty dishes in the sink and the well-stocked freezer," he remarked.

"Well, Jack and I were pretty busy today, making breads, pies and cookies. It was nice to have his help in the kitchen," you answered. "I had hoped that maybe you could have joined us. Oh, but I'm sure you were busy with other, more important matters," you added hastily.

Sensing your mood, Cas asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you started as your gaze dropped to the floor. "Well....I thought that Jack got hurt earlier by taking a something out of the oven with his bare hands. He didn't know about using oven mitts, and I forgot to tell him. He's fine and everything, no injuries, but....if he was a full human....Cas, he would really have been hurt, and it would've been my fault," you finished quietly.

As you walked towards Jack's bedroom, Cas was close behind you, talking about how he spent his day. Sam and Dean had already left their dirty clothes in the laundry room for you, but you didn't yet have any of Jack's clothes. You knocked on Jack's door and asked for his dirty laundry, which you then took to be washed.

While you sorted the clothes, you were humming a song that was your mom's favorite. "Can I help you with anything?" Cas asked. "It's getting late, and you look like you need some rest," he pointed out.

You laid a hand on his trench-coated arm and smiled. "Oh, I'm fine, Cas. After I start this laundry, I'll tidy up in the library on my way to the kitchen. Then I can tackle those dishes Jack and I used. Once I get all of that done, only then will I feel like I can relax. Is there something I can get for you? Glass of water, cup of tea, beer, anything?" you asked.

Cas put one hand on your shoulder and one on your cheek as he peered into your hazel eyes. "Take a deep breath. Don't worry about me, if I need something, I know where to find it," he said as he winked at you.

You chuckled as you started the laundry, then as planned, you moved on to tidy up the library, humming to yourself. Jack opened his door to find Castiel staring after you, shaking his head and grinning at seeing your sudden burst of energy. "Castiel! When did you get here?" Jack asked.

Cas explained that he had just arrived, and that the two of you had a nice conversation. "How was your day, Jack?" he asked.

"It was great, I got to help in the kitchen today! We made pumpkin and banana breads, cookies, even pie," Jack beamed with pride.

"That's what I heard. I'm glad you had a good time. You have a wonderful teacher, by the way. She comes from a long line of expert bakers," Cas remarked.

"I know, she was very patient with me. Only, I scared her when I took stuff out of the oven," he dropped his gaze. "She thought I got hurt, and got upset. She blamed herself for not telling me about using the oven mitts," he said quietly. "But I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault, and I didn't get hurt," he quickly added.

"You must remember to be careful, Jack. You may not always be able to heal yourself, you know," Cas remarked. "She is very fond of you, Jack, and considers you as part of her family. She doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, especially those she loves," he explains.

"She's so wonderful, Cas. She takes such good care of everything and everyone in this bunker--Sam, Dean, me and even you sometimes. She's sweet and kind, and....sometimes I forget that she's not my mother. I-I know I never met my mother in person, but I saw the video she left me," Jack explained. "Do you think she and my mother would have been friends?" he asked.

"Your mother was an extraordinary woman. She was courageous and nothing was more important to her than you and your happiness," Cas replied. "I'm certain they would have been friends. And I'm sure that your mother would be happy to know that you are so well-protected and loved here," he smiled.

"I think so too," Jack remarked. Then he asked Cas where you were, because he wanted to tell you how much fun he had today.

"I believe she said that she was going to tidy things up in the library, then head to the kitchen to take care of the dishes," Cas frowned. "However, I wish she would just relax instead of trying to do everything by herself," he grumbled.

Jack and Cas walked towards the kitchen, where the lights were off. Jack turned them on and saw that all of the dishes had been washed and were set out to dry overnight. "Where is she?" he wondered.

They retraced their steps from the kitchen. Then Castiel noticed you curled up in a corner of the couch, fast asleep. Both of them smiled at your sleeping form, because you still had a dish-drying towel slung over your shoulder. Cas told Jack he would watch over you while you slept, so Jack went off to bed. Before he did, though, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. Jack then smiled at Castiel, then returned to his room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel removed his trench coat and suit jacket and reached for your favorite blanket. He draped it around you, then sat next to you on the couch. He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, and took a moment to study you as you slept. He noticed the light dusting of freckles across your button-like nose, and a faint blush colored your cheeks.

He remembered the first time he met you, after a particularly nasty vampire hunt. Blood spatters were everywhere, on your clothes, in your hair, and on your body. Sam was the least injured of the group, so you sent him to the showers first. Then you turned your attention to Dean, and stitched up his wounds. Dean tried to take care of you before him, because your wounds looked worse. He knew you'd been bitten, so you had likely lost more blood, but you firmly insisted that Dean was healed first.

Once you finished first aid on Dean, you started to feel a bit lightheaded from the blood loss. You lost consciousness and passed out on the motel bed. That was when they called Cas in to help heal you. When Cas first saw you, he thought you were the most dazzling woman he'd ever seen. But, beyond your outward appearance, he also saw how pure and beautiful your soul was. He liked what he saw, and decided that he wanted to know more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cas slid his arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to his left side. You shifted closer, resting your head on his upper body and your hand on his chest. Cas leaned over to rest his head to yours and detected the scent of strawberries from your shampoo. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers around your hand on his chest. When he brushed his lips to the back of your wrist, he could smell the vanilla from your body wash on your skin. For a moment, Cas wondered if your perfect pink lips were as soft and sweet as they appeared to be.

Some time later, Cas felt you stir a little as he held you. First, he heard you mumble in your sleep, mostly about someone being hurt. "Jack!" you murmured. Your head moved back and forth, and Cas could feel your body trembling in fear. "No, leave him alone! Sam, Dean, help me! Cas, please get Jack out of here," you begged, as sobs wracked your body.

Castiel brought his other arm around to cradle you, drawing you closer. "Shh, shh, everything's all right, Honeybee," he soothed. "You're safe now, I promise," he whispered. At that moment, all he could think of was how much he wanted to keep hold of you and protect you from every evil in the world.

A few minutes later, your body stopped shaking. When you opened your honey-and-green colored eyes, you saw Cas looking down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern.

"Cas? Is everything all right?" you asked sleepily.

"I should ask you the same question. It seems you fell asleep here on the couch, and had a nightmare. Would you like to talk about it?" Cas asked.

You thought for a minute, trying to remember what happened in your nightmare. "Someone was hurting my family. This time, it was Jack who had been captured, and someone was hurting him. I was restrained somehow, and pleaded with you, Sam and Dean to help Jack, to rescue him and take him away. Only it seemed like none of you could hear me, so they kept on hurting Jack," you replied. You broke down into tears again, which caused Cas to take you back into his arms.

Suddenly, you bolted down the hall to Jack's room, with Cas right behind you. You carefully opened Jack's bedroom door, relieved to see him sound asleep in his bed. You quietly closed the door, leaned against the wall just outside his room and breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, you returned to the living room area and sat on the edge of the couch. Cas took your hands in his and resumed his earlier seat on the couch next to you.

"I'm sorry, Cas. For some reason, I had to see Jack with my own eyes. I had to make sure he was okay, after that nightmare I had," you explained.

"I understand. You were very upset from your nightmare, Honeybee. It's only natural that you would want visual confirmation that all was well," Cas replied. While he held your hand, he traced small circles on the back with his thumb.

Your ears perked up at the new nickname Cas gave you. "Cas, did you just call me 'Honeybee'?" you asked tentatively.

He tilted his head to one side as he thought for a moment before answering. "Well, yes, because you're sweet like honey, and you're hard-working like the bees," he responded simply. He continued to hold your hand, then asked, "Why? Do you not like it?"

Cas' gentle strokes on the back of your hand were making it difficult for you to concentrate. "Um, no Cas, I like it. It's fine. It's just that nicknames like that are usually reserved for when two people are more than friends," you replied, as your gaze dropped to the floor.

"About that....I've been having these....feelings where you're concerned. I feel warm just from being around you, and there's a fluttering in my stomach. My heart seems to beat faster whenever I just think of you. I took some time to study you as you slept, and noticed some wondrous things. For example, I noticed that you have freckles on your nose, and I love the smell of your shampoo. It's like strawberries," he added with a grin, which you couldn't help but return.

"I'll remember to get some more, then," you replied. "Wh-what else di-did you notice?" you stammered.

Cas reached up to cradle your face between his hands. "I remember thinking how smart and funny you are. I see that very often, you put the well-being of others before yourself. You take such good care of everyone and everything around you. But, I believe that you deserve to have someone to ensure that you are taken care of as well. Perhaps someone who thinks of you as more than his friend," Cas added softly as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"Did you have someone in mind? Or do you know of someone who already thinks of me that way?" you asked. You were staring so intently at Cas' blue eyes that you didn't notice he was slowly closing the gap between you. By the time you realized it, his lips were on yours in a gentle but tentative kiss, almost as if he were testing the waters.

Cas pulled back a little to break the kiss and touched his forehead to yours. Your right hand reached up to cup his cheek, and your left hand curled around the back of his neck. You traced his strong jawline with your index finger. Before Cas could completely break away, though, you tugged on his neck to bring him back. You meshed your lips with his, the kiss a little deeper and more insistent this time.

"Oh, Cas," you whispered. "I've imagined this moment thousands of times. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to lose our friendship if your feelings weren't the same. I'm glad to have someone in my life who cares for me as much as I care for him. I love you, Castiel," you remarked.

"And I love you, Honeybee. You know, Jack told me he had a great day today, being able to help you. I could tell he appreciated how patient you were with teaching him. He said that you remind him of his mother, Kelly Kline. I think that he has been missing her a lot lately, which could explain why his nightmares have been so frequent. I also think that having you around makes him miss her less. I am glad for that," Cas finished.

"What a wonderful thing for him and for you to say," you replied softly as you felt your cheeks grow warm. "I wish I could have met her. I can't ever take her place and wouldn't want to try. But if Jack needs someone 'mom-like' to talk to, I will definitely be there for him. Just as I will always be there for you," you promised.

"I will always be there for you as well, my Honeybee," Cas replied. You leaned towards each other until your lips met in a fiery, passion-filled kiss. You slid your hand up from Cas' cheek and started running your fingers through his raven-black hair. You massaged the top of his head with your fingertips, drawing a soft growl of pleasure from your angel. "Sweetheart, I believe it is best if we continue this activity elsewhere," he said huskily.

You nodded your agreement and rose up from the couch, holding out your hand. Castiel took it in his own and interlaced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked to your bedroom. Once inside, you made sure to lock your door to prevent any interruptions.

#castiel #castiel x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

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afy2018 · 3 years

Text

Roll in the Hay *Updated* Ch. 1

A crack of bright morning light arose through the flat Canadian fields, pouring across open farmlands and flooding throughout Purgatory. The rays cut into a small homestead, breaking through the parted curtains to wake the household. It shone in her eyes, waking her before her alarm had the chance to do so, making her initially turn away from her window. The alarm blared by her head until their local radio station booted up. She sat up, turning off the white noise to begin her day, starting off with her sister. Through a thin sheen of sleep, she found her way one door over, barging into the unlocked room where her sister was still sound asleep. She kicked her mattress, watching the frame shift as she woke up.

She groaned at the rude awakening, only verbally protesting after the third kick, “HEY! Okay, I’m alive, Jesus woman.”

“It’s time to wake up,” she informed her.

“Too frickin’ early.”

“Same time as always, Wyn,” Waverly informed her.

“Still too early,” she whined.

Wynonna sighed in defeat and grabbed her jeans from the night before, yanking them on while she hobbled to the small wardrobe to grab a shirt and bra. Stretching as she made her way to the bathroom, the siblings split paths with the elder one still getting ready at her usual lackadaisical speed while Waverly went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Even with her sister’s inability to play nice with others, she found it efficient to do most of the more menial tasks her sister chose to avoid.

She pulled out strips of venison from their icebox and onto a hot pan, where they sizzled until an enticing scent drifted down the basement where their farmhands were living. Xavier, their transporter ascended the stairs, his loud footsteps clomping against the old wooden planks until he hit the first landing.

“Smells good, need any help?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, can you go grab the milk and water from the fridge?”

“Of course, anything else, Miss Earp?”

“Yeah, can you wake up Doc, I need him to do a quick check on the goats to make sure they're okay. They were a bit loud last night.”

“Of course,” he said, walking back down.

Waverly sighed and cleared her throat, flipping the meat onto a plate before moving to the next part of their meal, English muffins. She placed them in the oven until they turned golden brown before pulling out butter and setting their food on the table with four plates. Waverly turned back around and grabbed a bowl of fruit from the window sill, to top off a healthy and nutritious breakfast.

Wynonna came back in through the kitchen door with her full report. “The blueberries look almost ready. Same as the strawberries.”

“Peaches and cherries?”

“Pfft, nowhere close. They need maybe another two weeks to be ready for picking,” she added, popping a fractured piece of bacon in her mouth. “Hot, hot.”

“Yeah, they’re fresh off the pan,” Waverly half-heartedly warned.

“Yeah, I guessed,” she playfully bit back, flicking the back of her sister’s head.

“Did we ever get a claim on the job posting?”

“I don't know… maybe,” her sister shrugged.

“Great,” she sarcastically remarked as she took her seat at the table.

“What was with the goats?”

“Already have Doc checking on them.”

“Good,” Wynonna said, looking at their breakfast displayed out on the table. “Looks great, need any help?”

“Just tell the boys breakfast is ready.”

“Yokkie-doke.”

Doc moved out of the way for the older Earp and looked at his crew. “Waverly,” he greeted, tipping his hat as he left for the barn. “Y’all can start without me.”

The other two returned from the fields, taking their places at the small table as they began to feast, taking a small share of everything their chef had prepared. Wynonna smiled and licked her lips, taking a piece of bacon then a few of the sliced nectarines and an English muffin. They continued to engorge themselves, leaving enough for Doc until the mustachioed gentleman came back, sitting down with them.

“Didn't see anything outta the ordinary. All of them are still there,” he reported.

“Okay, thank you,” Waverly replied.

“I heard we were getting a new farmhand. Any ideas?”

“We haven't gotten any applicants, yet,” she disappointedly informed them, “Due to the latest yield, Dolls, you’re moving to the arbor, Wynonna in the greenhouse, and I’ll work in the fields. Doc, you’re in charge of the grass fields until a greenhorn comes along.”

“Okay, so I’m still with the goats, right?” Doc asked

“Yeah, you remind them of their kin,” Wynonna quipped behind her glass of water, earning a sarcastic smile.

Once they had all finished, Dolls and Wynonna cleaned up while the others went off to their posts. Waverly grabbed the large baskets from the doorway and left the rest for Dolls. She went out towards the rising sun, checking the crops, seeing that her sister was right in saying that the blueberries were almost ready. She began to harvest the ripe ones, leaving behind the pink and purple berries. From that session of picking, she plucked over a hundred berries, making it now only barely over two-fifths of the projected yield so far, but good for midseason. She went back through, checking for the others she had missed.

Waverly walked over to the homestead again, continuing to the cooling room as she washed them and left them to dry. She came back inside, checking the time, three hours had passed. She sighed and washed the purple juice off of her hands, distracted until there was a firm knock on the door. Waverly walked over, thinking it was Dolls or Wyn accidentally locking themselves out. She opened the door, surprised to greet the shoulders of a tall and pale woman. Waverly looked up and met the kind brown eyes of the redheaded.

“Hi,” she quickly greeted in surprise.

“Hello ma’am, I’m here about farm work? I’m Nicole Haught.”

“Haught? Oh, sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone. Come in,” Waverly beckoned, moving out of the way.

The taller woman took off her leather jacket, holding it over her shoulder as she followed the owner inside. She looked around, smiling at the cute quaintness of the farmhouse. There were old crocheted blankets and embroidered throw pillows on the couch comfily decorating the living room. She noticed the pictures around the house. Most of them were recently taken with the owner and a few other people she suspected they worked or grew up with. They both sat down at the small dining table decorated with a simple plaid cloth where Waverly began to interview her.

“Really, I called yesterday morning? Are you Miss Wynonna Earp?” she inquired politely.

“Oh, no. I’m her sister Waverly. She must have forgotten,” she pleasantly smiled, settling into her chair. “Anyway, we plan to have you do mainly prep work for us, you know, working the grass fields for the winter. Help our goat handler, fetch water for the crops and animals. Are you planning on living here or off-site?”

“Off-site. What would my hours be, ma’am?”

“7am-5pm, 8 hours of work with two one hour breaks whenever, Monday thru Friday. Pay will be $13.60 per hour, so $1360 for your biweekly paycheck.”

“Sounds great. So, when would I begin?” she smiled, resting her arms on the table.

“Work begins in four days. We’ll need some time to file the paperwork and get it approved.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

Waverly smiled and walked off to grab the employment papers from Wynonna’s desk. She returned a moment later with them and a pen, pulling them away for a second to ask, “Wait, you’re not a murderer right?”

Nicole glanced at her in shock and sincerely answered, “Well… no, of course not, Ms. Earp.”

Waverly only smiled, making her new coworker relax, and turned the papers around for Nicole to fill out. She watched the young woman intently read the contract before signing with her neat and curly calligraphy. “Nicole Haught. Perfect,” Waverly thought.

Nicole sat up straight and gave the contract and pen back. “Thank you. You won't regret this,” she finished with a genuine smile.

“We need another girl on the team. Even better when there’s someone as muscled as you. Have you worked on a farm before?”

“Yes, I grew up on a ranch, so I worked there until I was 19,” she divulged, relaxing back into the chair as she studied the bright woman in front of her. Nicole watched as her eyes flicked from her to the contract spread out in front of her, then back up to the redhead. Her hands sorted through Nicole’s papers before she continued to ask her questions.

“What animals?”

“Horses, chickens, and geese.”

“Perfect.”

Waverly watched as the young woman stood, quickly going to let her out, opening the door with a smile. She looked outside to catch her sister gawking over the bike by the homestead. Nicole looked at her, squinting to see who it was.

“That’s Wynonna.” she introduced.

Her sister glanced up at the sound of her name and asked, “Who’s bike is this?”

“Mine,” Nicole answered.

“This. Is. Beautiful. Where’d you get this, what’s her name, how much was it?” she asked in a flurry of excitement.

“Detroit, America. Black Beauty, or Beauty. A little more than $7k US.”

“Oh my god,” she continued to gawk, “Wait, why Detroit?”

“Cheaper from the source.”

“Hmm,” Wynonna answered, looking at the shiny black bike. “Impressive. Hired.”

“Oh, I’m-”

“A little sarcasm, she’s just being a mechanophile,” Waverly interrupted.

“Oh okay,” Nicole chuckled, watching the older woman gaze at her beautiful bike. She put on her helmet and mounted it.

“See you on Monday, Ms. Earp,” Nicole winked to them, starting the bike and driving off.

“We need to file that paperwork now,” Wynonna said.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicole woke to the low southern twang of a country singer, ringing through her deep slumber. With the paperwork filled out and her new boss’s updates, the young rancher took up her new tasks with a revitalized gusto she hadn’t felt for a long while. She needed this new job to distract her from the boring hermit tasks of the day that had recently plagued her life after she had finished her degree. Living an hour out of Purgatory, Nicole took to the kitchen, fixing a small breakfast of grits and sandwiches before finishing the other menial work like feeding her long-haired orange pain in the ass, Calamity Jane before escaping the small apartment in Calgary. As she took the early morning commute to the Earp’s homestead, Nicole couldn’t help but think about the quirky Earps and their goat farm, an animal she now could understand such a unique pair of sisters caring for.

“So the newbie starts today?” Dolls asked, wiping his mouth.

“Yup, Nicole, she seems like a hard worker,” Waverly answered.

“Will she live out here?”

“Nope, you two scared her off,” Wynonna sarcastically claimed.

Doc finished first, placing his dishes in the sink before leaving out the back to start loading up the truck. Dolls and Wynonna followed suit, leaving Waverly to clean everything up as she waited for their new worker. She looked over at the clock now showing 6:45 on the face and peered past the kitchen wall to check if Nicole had arrived yet. When she walked out of the house, Wynonna and Dolls were already going out to their posts while Waverly left for the barn to perform her menial task of checking on the goats before letting them out to pasture.

On her way back, she spotted Black Beauty racing over the hill. Checking her watch, the young Earp noted her perfect punctuality, regarding her new farmhand as she dismounted her bike and rested it right in front of the porch of the homestead. Nicole removed her helmet and set it on the ground behind Beauty, shaking out her hair to fix the short red locks as she approached her boss.

“Sorry, hi Nicole,” Waverly quickly greeted with a firm handshake.

“Good morning Ms. Earp, so, where do I start?” she politely inquired.

“Ready to work, nice. Well, the grass is perfect for cutting, so I’ll need you to do that, then stack it, please. Once you’re done, ask Doc in the barn or me in the fields behind the house if you can help. Doc takes care of the goats and around this time of year we weed out the ones that are ready for the house.”

“Okay,” she confirmed, catching the bright tone in those final morbid words.

“You know how to use a scythe right?” Waverly asked, walking towards the field

“Like, the old style?”

“Well yeah, modern made, not an old, you know, rusty one from the 1700s, but still a scythe,” Waverly awkwardly explained. She sighed with a smile and continued, “Let me show you where the tools are.”

After a few grueling hours, the field was cut and the browned grass had been layered across the ground to dry. Nicole set the scythe down and began towards the homestead to grab a drink before returning to the homestead for a bite and nip. Once inside, she spotted Waverly by the sink washing some berries.

“Ms. Earp,” she greeted with a nod.

“Haught,” the other farmer greeted.

Nicole refilled her bottle, “Just taking a quick break. Do you need help in the fields?”

“Wait, did you already finish in the grass?”

“Yes.”

“And scattered it to dry?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nicole proudly nodded.

“Fast work, well done.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“That’s really impressive for two hours,” Waverly complimented. “I was never able to do it that fast. But then again, I enjoyed washing and shearing the goats more than the ag stuff.”

Nicole nodded in agreement, “So, this is a family farm?”

“Yup. My great-great-grandpa started the farm as a side job from being a for-hire officer.”

“Wow, so why goats?”

“Small and versatile.”

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked drinking from her bottle again.

“Well, you can eat them, drink them, wear them, and work them. Cows are drinkable, edible, and wearable, but not really workable as well as they’re large and require a lot of land compared to goats.”

“When did you switch?”

“Back when Grandpa Edwin ran this homely land,” Waverly playfully informed her, “Did you grow up in the area?”

“No, I’m from the outskirts of Calgary.”

“Oh, I love Calgary!” she beamed. “It’s so beautiful and exciting!”

Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her colleague's genuine interest in her. “Yeah, a lot happens there but definitely a nice mix of rural and city life.”

“My ex-boyfriend brought me up to the zoo there. I absolutely adored the reptile exhibit.”

“Reptiles?”

“Yeah, you know, exotic creatures from around the world.”

“I always loved the aviary exhibit. They’re so beautiful. So, you’re a bit of an adventurous soul, are you ma’am?”

“Yes, well, I’ve always enjoyed traveling, but the farm keeps me grounded.” Waverly smiled and looked out at the barn before pulling her gaze back to the farmhand, “I hope I’m not prying by asking you this, but… nevermind.”

“What?” Nicole gently pressed.

“Nevermind, it’s a stupid question,” she sputtered out as she tried to cover up her mistake.

Nicole rolled her eyes and gently asked, “There’s not much that offends me, ma’am. What is it?”

Waverly awkwardly sighed and asked, “Are you… gay?”

“Well, first day and already hitting the personal questions.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“Yeah, you shouldn't’ve,” Nicole began screwing the top back on her water bottle, “but you did, so I’ll answer. Yes, ma’am, I am in fact gay.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

Waverly bit her lip feeling completely stupid and yet, curiosity still flared beneath the naive surface of her question. “You must get asked that often, sorry…”

“Not really.”

“I’m sorry. Um, Doc will need help in the barn, so you can help him there, I’m almost finished in the fields,” she tried to smooth things over.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nicole walked out of the cramped house to join Holliday.

She walked to the creaky building to find Doc at the doorway watching the goats as he smoked a hand-rolled cigarette, hie tilted down a bit to block the sun. He glanced up at the new worker and smiled below that dark thick mustache.

“Good morning,” he greeted in a very thick southern accent. “You must be Nicole.”

“And you’re Doc?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded as he stood up to shake her hand.

“I was wondering if you needed help.”

“For now, I just need to refill some of the water troughs. You can help me, but after that, there’s nothing else to do.”

“Okay.”

Nicole followed him to the well and began pumping water into the buckets, lugging them back to the barn as they each took turns dumping the water into the troughs. Nicole smiled again as the kids nudged into her while she walked. She laughed as she and Doc dumped water into the last trough. He was an unassuming man, Nicole pieced, and a big softy by the way he cared for the younger livestock. In the brief time of working with him, he was a gentleman, something Nicole had misjudged as being an act from his style and sound.

“Do you guys have a hay baler?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the back by the truck, just hook it up to the ol’ tractor and drive it to the field. Turn it on and you’ll be good to go.”

“Thank you Doc,” Nicole finished, turning on her heels to ask, “So, why Doc?”

“Just my childhood nickname,” he wistfully smiled.

Nicole smiled at his brief but predictable answer and walked back to the fields where Waverly said she would be. She looked for the young Earp amongst the bushes and approached her as she stood up.

“Hey, you need help?” Nicole called out to her.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” she absentmindedly answered. “Yeah. I mean no. Sorry. Did you finish helping Doc?”

“Yes ma’am. Now just waiting for the grass to dry before I rotate and dry it again.” Nicole watched for a moment, the awkward silence filling the void that was once full of eager interest in one another. “Would you want to join me for a lunch break, ma’am?”

“Sure, I’m finishing up on the second round of blueberries today, so I can take a short break right now. I don’t have a helmet, though,” Waverly told her. “Oh, wait, Wynonna does.”

“She has a bike, too?”

“Yeah, it’s our uncle’s.”

“Perfect. So, is there anywhere to have a nip this early in the afternoon?”

“There’s this local bar in the town center, Shorty’s,” Waverly suggested with a smile.

“Sounds great.”

“It is,” she said going off to store the berries.

Waverly quickly finished her task and joined Nicole for their thrilling adventure. Her farmhand pulled on her helmet and slapped the visor down to protect her eyes from the sun then sat still for Waverly to climb on. She tentatively put her hands on Nicole’s shoulders, then slid them to her waist as they drove off. Nicole sped to the town center, the wind whipping past their bodies as they broke through the countryside. The rolling hills looked even more majestic at high speeds, and with the cloudy day, partial shadows were cast over the grass in long streaks while low winds combed over the untamed reeds. The land flattened again as she approached the main street paved through archaic shops meant to preserve the Old West. They finally happened upon Shorty’s, hard to miss by the large sign outlined in lights, and dismounted the bike, Waverly led the way to the old bar. When they walked in, almost everyone greeted the young heir.

“You seem quite popular,” Nicole commented

“I used to work here part-time,” she explained as they found a spot at the bar.

“Barmaid?”

“Waitress because I wasn’t old enough to sell alcohol,” she explained, catching the attention of the current woman presiding over the saloon.

“Waverly, how are you, sweetie?” Gus greeted.

“I’m doing really well, could we have two of the house ale?”

“Oh, just one,” Nicole interrupted, “I’ll just have pop, thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem,” she nodded as she poured out two small glasses and slid them over to the farmers before attending to the other patrons.

“That’s Gus, she’s my aunt. Curtis and his friend, Shorty, own this place.”

“It’s nice. Is that why you’re very popular?”

“Not the only other reason why,” Gus cut in with a slight smile as she cleaned a few glasses within earshot.

“That doesn’t matter, not really,” Waverly instantly intervened.

“So, who are you?” she directed towards the new farmhand.

“I’m Nicole Haught, new to the Earp farm, ma’am,” she said with a smile.

“It’s great to see people still wanting to work there. I always told Waverly that she should have traveled, she’s a free spirit.”

“But we need to keep our feet on the ground,” she intervened again.

“You’re too smart for Purgatory, Waves. You deserve more than this town than that farm,” Gus berated, leaving to serve another customer.

Nicole looked at Waverly, head cocked to the side in curiosity. “What does she mean by not the only reason you’re popular?”

“My great-great-grandpa was Wyatt Earp. He owned that small farm and raised his family there.”

“The Wyatt Earp? I thought I recognized your last name.”

“Yup,” Waverly smile, sighing as she looked down at her drink.

“So exploring the world was on your bucket list?”

“Yeah, but it was only a dream. Have you explored outside of Canada?”

“I have and I have to say that once you explore the world, you’re excited at first, but then find that it’s not what you expected because of all of the issues you find at home you find everywhere else, just with a different mask. It’s better to learn about the world slowly so there’s always more to see, more to do, more to… feel.” Nicole said drinking from her cup.

“Wow, were you a philosophy major?” Waverly asked.

“I always enjoyed philosophy, but I actually majored in justice and law,” Nicole casually joked.

“Wow, any idea of what you’d do?”

“Become an officer, maybe, or become a detective. Though for now, I’m working on a goat farm for a charming lady and her bike-loving older sister.”

“Thank you,” Waverly bashfully accepted. “Why not go straight into the force?”

“Well, I wanted to take a while off to get settled again before I have to go to the academy.”

“Why law enforcement?”

“I wanted to be one of the good cops. I want to improve our system by seeing and experiencing how it works from the inside.”

“How noble,” Waverly carefully considered.

Nicole blushed and glanced away, drinking from her glass. “I’m glad that we have this time to talk.”

“Me too,” Waverly agreed.

They watched as the hour passed with only a few lapsing moments of silence, seemingly having forgotten about the awkward question that briefly made Nicole wish she had taken a different job. The two women walked out of the bar, mounting Beauty, and headed back to the homestead. Nicole left first to continue her work in the fields where she began to flip the grass. The hard labor proved to be more mindless than she had originally planned, spending most of the time recounting her small excursion with Waverly.

Once she finished the work, Nicole walked to the fields behind the house where Waverly said she would be and called out, “Miss Earp, would you like me to help?”

“Yes, please,” she called back. “I need to pick the strawberries now, they just all popped. You know how to pick these, right?” Waverly asked, wiping her fingers off on the red and purple-stained rag.

“Do they just fall off?”

“Not really,” she corrected, handing her a spare pair of clippers from the basket. “We pick them when they’re a bit green still and what ones that are too ripe we sell in town or keep for ourselves.”

Nicole knelt down next to her and began to pick the ripe red berries from the bush, gently dropping them into the basket. There must have been three fifty meter rows of strawberry bushes and another three rows of blueberries Waverly had picked earlier. They worked quickly and diligently, hoping to be able to rest for the remaining portion of their workday. The two women picked the berries side by side, talking as they worked.

“So, books or video games,” Waverly randomly asked.

“It depends,” she methodically began, “I like books a bit more but I also enjoy a well-written game, too.”

“Okay. What kind of books do you like to read, then?”

“I enjoy Sue Grafton or a well thought out novel about ancient history.”

“Really?” Waverly asked excitedly. “So, which ancient society do you believe really pushed the progression of man?”

Nicole smirked at her excitement and thoughtfully answered, “The Sumerians. With a very intricate religious system copied by the Babylonians and Egyptians which was copied by the Greeks and Romans, as well as a simple written system, I think that they really did aid in the formative years for mankind. What do you think, ma’am?”

“Wow,” Waverly murmured in awe of Nicole’s genuine interest and knowledge. She bit her lip and asked, “What about women in history, which do you believe was the most progressive?”

Nicole perked up an eyebrow about the subject, finding it an interesting one to compare with ancient societies. “Oh, I think either the Sumerians- again- or maybe Ancient East Africa because of the matriarchal rule in some tribes. Well, now that I think about it, definitely the Sumerians because there was a woman leader who is regarded positively and women could be equal to men if they tried unlike many cultures, ancient or modern” Waverly just looked at the young worker and smiled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Yes, yeah, I’ve just never met anyone so passionate about history. Everyone here is either a local running their own shop or working on their farm, so there aren’t a lot of people who like to talk about history for fun. Usually, it’s because it’s their homework… and they’re just asking for their homework.”

“Well, I’m glad that you approve of my overall nerdiness, Ms. Earp,” Nicole sarcastically engaged.

“Gosh, I embrace it with all of my heart because I'm not the only nerdy person in town now.”

Haught continued to smile as they went back to work, feeling her employer’s eyes on her every moment or so. Whenever she caught her eye, a light blush would cover her cheeks in an instant and she would go back to her task. As they finished the final row of strawberries, Nicole glanced at her watch seeing that she still had two hours left on the clock.

She excused herself and went to retrieve the small green tractor, connecting it to their old baler. The young farmhand drove to the front of the lot and hopped out to bring the hay together in individual rows. She then got back on the tractor and slowly drove over the mounds of grass as they collected and ultimately turned into seven dense round bales. She drove the tractor back, taking everything apart when she spotted Waverly in the house beckoning her inside. Nicole approached the manor, brushing off all of the excess grass, and walked in.

“Hey, you busy?” her employer asked

“I just have to bring in the hay, but other than that, no, ma’am.”

“Just wondering. I can help you,” Waverly offered.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nicole accepted, pulling her gloves on again as she led the way to the field.

They each grabbed a bale and walked to the barn where Doc must have been on a break as the goats meandered the fields to drink and graze, pushing through one another. The farmers dropped the bales on the ground and began traveling back and forth for the remaining ones. After the last drop off, Waverly climbed up the ladder to the storage space with other extra bales.

“What was your aunt saying about you moving on?” Nicole asked as she tossed a bale up to her.

“Well,” Waverly huffed as she caught it. “I was a history and linguistics major, nothing like Wynonna or anyone else in the family. Gus has been trying to get me on a different track ever since my dad passed away. She even helped me through college.”

“Why did you decide to stay, if you don’t mind me asking, ma’am?”

“This is my home, and when Wynonna left I took care of this place with Uncle Curtis, just to get by. I found happiness here. Peace,” Waverly simply added, catching the last bale and setting it down. “Love.”

“Ms. Waverly Earp,” she beckoned, climbing up the ladder, “why did my sexuality matter to you?” Nicole only earned a defiant sigh and she pushed herself onto the deck.

She merely looked at Nicole as she tried to put her thoughts in order as quickly as she could while the worker encroached upon her. “Close enough to touch,” she thought to herself. A foot apart, Waverly gazed up slightly to study Nicole’s features before nervously breaking their connection with a soft sigh.

“I’m not really great with words,” Waverly tried to explain away, “You know what, pretend I didn’t say anything, Nicole.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I really don’t think that’s possible,” she bluntly stated.

Waverly bit the inside of her lip as she tried to fight off the urge to do or say anything out of line, especially when her counterpart was so formal. “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she tried, nudging her coworker aside by the waist before she descended the ladder.

“Waverly,” she called down to her, “I apologize if I have been out of line in any way.”

“I’ve been out of line, Nicole,” the young caretaker affirmed as the barn doors opened.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Doc greeted, a fresh smoke peeking out from under his mustache.

“Hey, Doc,” Waverly quickly smiled, walking past him.

Once out of earshot, Nicole approached him to ask, “Is she usually like this?”

Doc tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear and shrugged, “Like what?”

“Awkward.”

“I guess sometimes? The best thing to do with these Earps is to let them defuse in solitude rather than intervene,” he informed her. “Thank you for the hay.”

“No problem, Doc,” she nodded, following Waverly to the homestead.

“I mean it, Haught,” he warned her. “Leave it be.”

“I still have an hour left.”

“I have to herd the goats in if you want to help, that’ll eat up a good fifteen,” he asked, lighting the end of his tab.

#wayhaught fanfic #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #femslash #wlw #lgbt #sfw #sfwfic #wynonna Earp #AU #Farm au

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Desperation - chapter 9

35: “I’m used to being alone”

Prompt list here

[AO3]

Belle’s eyes snapped open, her heart thumping, and for a moment she thought she was back in her own bed. She was warm and comfortable, but the sound of coughing had woken her, and she pushed herself upright, eyes casting to the ceiling worriedly. It sounded as though both Bae and Gold were suffering. She had hoped that Bae, at least, would have been on the mend.

It was morning, fingers of daylight poking through the curtains, and she swung her legs around and out from beneath the blankets, rubbing her eyes and yawning. The coughing started again, and Belle got to her feet, wrapping the crocheted blanket around herself and tugging on the slippers she had brought before heading up the stairs.

She looked in on Bae first. He was sitting up against the pillows, his Enchanted Forest book tented on his knees, looking a little sorry for himself.

“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat hurts,” he said, his voice croaking. “I hate this stupid cough.”

“I bet.” Belle tilted her head to the side, remembering that she had left the thermometer in Gold’s room. “Do you still have a fever?”

Bae shrugged.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“What can I get you for breakfast?”

“Is there any apple pie left?”

“You want it with ice cream?” she asked, and he nodded. “Okay, but I think your dad might want you to eat a proper meal at some point.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay. You want something to drink?”

“Can I have milk?”

Belle smiled.

“I’ll go and get some,” she said. “I want to take your temperature, too. You stay in bed, okay?”

She shut the door, ducking into the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth before knocking softly on Gold’s door. There was a muffled noise from within that might have been an invitation to enter, and so she slipped inside, eyes adjusting to the relative dark of the room, and the shape of him lying prone in the bed, propped up on pillows. She could hear laboured, rattling breath, and chewed her lip anxiously. He doesn’t sound good.

“Hey,” she said gently. “How are you feeling?”

His head turned slowly towards her, features blurred in the dim light, the points of his eyes and the ridge of his nose picked out by the light from the landing

“Why did you come back?”

His voice was hoarse, whispery, as though he had little strength. She wondered if he’d managed to sleep.

“I didn’t leave,” she said. “I stayed over, remember?”

“Don’t come back,” he rasped. “Not if you’re just gonna break his heart again. Not fair.”

Belle opened her mouth, confused, and shut it again.

“Rum,” she said gently. “It’s me. It’s Belle.”

“Belle?”

Was that surprise in his voice? Relief? Must have thought I was his ex. It’s the fever talking. Maybe she was brunette.

“It’s me.” She stepped further into the room. “It’s just me.”

The sheets rustled, and he ran a hand over his face, exhaling loudly.

“Can you give me some light?”

Belle hurried over to switch on the lamp on the nightstand. Yellowish light spilled across the room, picking out the stubble on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his brow. The water jug was empty, his eyes hollow and his thin chest rising and falling rapidly. She tried not to let him see her shock, but a surge of alarm had gone through her at the sight of him. Gold turned his head towards her a little, and she gave him a wobbly smile.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “Must be losing it. For a second there I thought - never mind. I’d forgotten you stayed over. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she said, pushing aside her own curiosity at his reaction. “Your couch is pretty comfy, by the way.”

He smiled slightly at that.

“Shouldn’t have let you sleep on the couch,” he muttered.

“Really, it was fine,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be better soon, I’m sure, but you’ll still be stuck on your own until lockdown ends. I couldn’t leave you alone, could I?”

“I’m used to being alone.”

He ran his hands over his face again, sighing, and Belle shook her head.

“Let’s check that fever,” she suggested, handing him the thermometer. “I’ll get you some water. Bae wants pie for breakfast. Is that okay?”

“I need to make him a proper meal today,” he said, and popped the thermometer in his mouth. Belle put her hands on her hips.

“You’re staying in bed and you know it,” she said firmly. “I can make him dinner. It looks like you have plenty of meals all portioned up. I’m sure I can cook some fresh veg to go with them.”

Gold made a face, though at the thought of food or of her cooking it she was unsure.

“What about you?” she asked. “Breakfast?”

He shook his head.

“What about some tea, then?”

A nod, the thermometer rattling against his teeth as he tried to hold it in place with his lips.

“He looks a little better,” she said. “I’ll check his fever when I’ve done yours. He’s sitting up in bed, though, and has his appetite back, so I think he’s on the mend.”

Gold gave her a grateful look, and the thermometer beeped. She winced at the reading.

“I’ll get you some water,” she repeated. “And you’re taking two more of those pills. No arguments.”

He shrugged tiredly, as if to say he wasn’t about to fight her on it. Good. She headed downstairs, eyes narrowing as she spotted something on the doormat in the hallway. A leaflet, with the Storybrooke Council logo on the front of it above a telephone number. Belle opened it up, eyes scanning the contents. An explanation of the lockdown, with the reasons for it and the measures that the Mayor’s office was putting in place to ensure people were fed and protected. The grocery packages were mentioned, but the contents were not listed. Belle glanced at the clock. Too early to make a call yet. She headed to the kitchen, dropping the leaflet on the table and taking the apple pie from the fridge.

Bae was still running a fever, but a mild one only. He was also still coughing, but he ate the piece of pie and ice cream and drank his milk. Gold downed two glasses of water as soon as Belle brought the jug, after which he nestled down in the blankets and closed his eyes. She turned off the light and left him to it, figuring he could use the rest.

She made a pot of tea and took him a cup, but Gold didn’t stir when she entered, so she left it on the nightstand and tiptoed out again. Her own breakfast was toast, two thick slices of a delicious malted loaf studded with pumpkin seeds and walnuts, spread with butter and a dark, tangy cherry jam. She ate it on the porch overlooking the rear garden, the blanket around her shoulders keeping the early morning chill from her. There was silence except for the birds chirping in the trees. No passing traffic, no drone of motorbikes, no shouts and squeals of children playing. It was as though Storybrooke was hibernating.

Once breakfast was over and the dishes washed, Belle got dressed, pulling on thick tights and a blue sweater dress. She had decided to leave the Golds resting unless they called on her, which meant she had a few hours to kill. Ordinarily she would have curled up with a book, but first she wanted to get in touch with whoever was going to be delivering their groceries the following day. She retrieved the leaflet that had been delivered, which had a contact telephone number in bold on the front. The phone rang for a long time before being answered.

“Good morning!” came a cheerful voice. “You’re through to Storybrooke City Hall Lockdown Coordination. This is Astrid speaking, how may I help you?”

“Uh - hi,” said Belle. “I had a question about the grocery deliveries.”

“Tuesdays and Fridays,” said Astrid immediately. “I’m afraid we can’t arrange time slots, it could be any time between eight and six. The delivery team will leave the box outside your property.”

“That’s great,” said Belle. “I just had a question about the box contents, that’s all.”

“Oh! Do you have allergies?”

“I - no.”

“Does anyone in the household have allergies?” Astrid talked very quickly, as though she was brimming over with enthusiasm, and Belle was trying not to grin.

“No,” she said. “At least, if they do, I don't know about them. I’m staying with the Gold family, and they’re both sick, father and son.”

“Oh no!”

“Yeah, so I wondered if the boxes would contain medicines of any sort.”

“There’ll be a one-off supply of toiletries and household products in the first delivery,” said Astrid. “I can request that over-the-counter medicines are included. What is it that you need?”

“Just some paracetamol.”

“Okay, but I can’t let you have any more than two packets.”

“That’s fine.”

“Address?”

Belle gave the address, hearing the tapping of keys at the other end of the line.

“It’s too bad they’re both sick,” said Astrid. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

“I think Bae’s on the mend,” said Belle. “Rum is - well, he’s not too good, actually.”

“Well, you tell them to take care from me,” said Astrid. “And you can tell Mr Gold that those alterations he did on Leroy’s coat were just wonderful.”

“I - I will, thank you.”

“Okay, you’re all set for Friday!” said Astrid. “My husband will deliver the box himself. Was there anything else?”

“No no,” said Belle. “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”

“Well, we all have to look after each other, right?” chirped Astrid brightly. “That’s the great thing about this town!”

Belle thanked her and hung up, smiling slightly. Yes. Deadly disease aside, Storybrooke seemed to be everything she could ever want from the place she would call home. She couldn’t wait to settle in properly.

#fic: desperation #sprite's pandemic promptathon #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Cherry Coke Special: Fourteen

You let yourself into the apartment and sighed. You could hear Winnifred in the kitchen. She was cooking, and whatever it was was probably delicious, but the last thing you wanted was to eat.

It had been a long time since you’d had to do holds. Or walk that much in a single shift. And every muscle in your body hurt. All you wanted was a shower and to faceplant onto the bed and never move ever again.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Winnifred said, smiling as you walk around the corner, “How was your first day?”

You smile a little and set your work bag in its designated chair, “It was... A day. Long but... Educational.”

“So basically it was hell on Earth, and you hate it, but you’re going back tomorrow because Bucky pissed you off?

“Yup,” you say, helping yourself to a soda out of the fridge.

Winnifred shook her head, “Y/N,” she said, “Are you just gonna keep being mad?”

“No,” you sigh, “I’m not really even mad now. I just need him to understand that I’m independent. And it serves me well. Really well. And I can’t just live off of him. It feels gross. He’s not an ATM. He’s my partner. And he deserves better than that.”

She smiles a little, “I knew you were a good girl.” She leans over the counter and chucks you under the chin gently, “But baby girl, you’ve gotta let him do stuff for you... It makes him happy. He knows you don’t wanna live off of him... But he also doesn’t want you to take a job that makes you miserable.”

“I know,” you sigh, “I really do... I guess it just pisses me off because I DON’T want this job. I want my old job. I want my old staff. I want to do more than bitch work and putting out fires all day.”

“Literal fires?”

“Once,” you say, sighing.

“Holy shit,” she hissed, “Why?”

“Because they were cold,” you answer simply, “And that’s why we don’t have lighters on the unit.”

“Sweetheart,” she sighed.

“It’s okay... I just. I need a job. I need to ride this out until someone gets fired for smoking a joint in a bathroom or something, and what happened to me doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Jesus,” she sighed.

“I know, right... Do we have wine?”

“Do we have wine?” she scoffed, “Baby, I bought two bottles. Just for you.”

“I love you,” you tell her, taking the bottle she proffers from around the corner and taking a pull.

“I love you too,” she said, giggling.

______

Bucky listened outside the apartment door with Nova. He could hear his ma giggling and the clatter of dishes.

Domestic sounds. Calm sounds. He wonders if you’re home yet, but then, He’s willing to bet that if his ma is giggling, you’re home. You have a way of telling stories that makes even mundane things funny.

Nova paws anxiously at the door. Eager to be home and chewing the bone, she left in her bed. And getting some pats from her mom. So Bucky opens the door and takes the leash and harness off of her so she could get her pets.

The dog bolts into the apartment, immediately going to find you and beg for attention like she hadn’t been petted or cuddled at all, all day.

“Hey, Pretty Paws,” you murmur, rubbing her ears and kissing her nose.

Bucky kissed his mother hello and gave you a second, knowing full well that Nova wasn’t gonna let you up until she’d extracted all her desired attention from you.

When Nova had been sufficiently loved on, she drifted away to get pets from his Ma, and you stood up slowly. “Hey,” you murmur.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, tilting your chin up to kiss you hello.

Winnifred slips around the corner and gives the two of you just a moment. And takes a minute to slip her grandpuppy a few treats.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmured, “About this morning... I know. I know this isn’t what you want. And that you’re stuck. I shoulda been more supportive and not tried to muscle you into doing what I wanted.”

“I just,” You sigh and wrap your arms around his waist. “I need to start somewhere, Bucky. I know it’s dangerous. I know you’re worried... But.”

“I know,” Bucky said softly, “I do. I really do.” He kisses you softly again, “I shoulda said this earlier, baby. But... I am proud of you. No one would blame you if you just curled up and stayed down. And here you are. Telling every last one of them to fuck off because they can’t stop you. Baby... They should be terrified. You’re gunning for them.”

You smile a little, and Bucky feels his heart flutter. “And I can’t wait to watch you make them all regret like they did you. I really can’t... I just don’t want you to feel like you HAVE to do this. Just for money.”

“It isn’t,” you tell him softly. “I just... I just need to be working.”

Bucky takes the bottle from your hand and takes a pull with a soft smile, “I know that too,” he said. “And I should know better than to try and press you into doing what I want... now. let’s get some food in you, so you’re not too hungover for work tomorrow.”

“I’m not drunk,” you protest.

“Yet,” Winnifred added fondly.

“Yet,” you allow, rolling your eyes.

“So,” Bucky said, chuckling, “Food. And a shower. You need to get wound down after... whatever happened today.”

“I heard rumors of a real fire,” Winnifred said from the kitchen where she started making plates.

“Fire?” Bucky said, quirking an eyebrow, looking down at you.

“They were cold,” you say, shrugging, “It happens.”

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed.

“Dementia,” you murmur, yawning. “It happens. Just take the lighters and make sure you know the fire alarm codes.”

“Fucking Fierce,” he murmurs, “my brave girl.”

#mob!bucky #Mob!AU #bucky x reader #fluff #soft bucky

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years

Text

Sick

Summary: Jensen wakes up sick on the morning of a con and the reader tries to help him through the day...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Square: Conventions

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

“Morning,” you said, kissing Jensen awake when the alarm clock went off, Jensen groaning and tucking his head into your shoulder, pulling the covers over his head. You giggled and turned the thing off, moving the covers away and cupping his cheek. You frowned when his face felt hot, Jensen turning into the touch and nudging closer to you. “Aw, you’re sick, Jens.”

“Of course there’s a con today too,” he whined, shuddering for a moment before you heard a sniffle.

“Stay in bed and get some extra sleep. I’ll get everything ready for you,” you said. You were pretty certain he was out cold before you even rolled out of bed, Jensen’s face slightly scrunched up as you moved around the bedroom quietly. You were thankful the con was in town today so there was no big travel involved. You stashed a few things in his backpack before slipping out of the apartment, running to the pharmacy just down the block to get some cold medicine and some other things he normally liked when he was sick.

After stowing them away in his bag, you went to his closet, pulling out some clothes for him and bringing them into the bathroom.

“Okay, Jay, time to get up,” you said, going to his side of the bed and lightly nudging him. He stirred and coughed as he sat up, taking the medicine you handed him without a word before staring suspiciously at the liquid cold medicine. “Drink it, Jay.”

“I don’t like the liquid. Where’s the capsule things?” he asked, looking far younger than you were used to as he stared up at you worriedly.

“They were out, honey. Drink it for me, please. It’ll help you feel better,” you said. He winced but plugged his nose, swallowing the medicine down quickly, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. “S’okay. All done.”

“Vick’s liquid flavor? God, I think I know what death tastes like,” he said, shaking his head.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and leading him into the bathroom, peeling his sweaty clothes off of him and having him pop under the shower for just a moment. He dried himself off and changed into the clothes you laid out for him, using the new toothbrush you’d bought and brushing his teeth. He looked a bit miserable as he grabbed his brush and immediately dropped it, sighing at it.

You bent down and picked it up, fixing his hair for him as he stood there breathing deeply.

“Hungry?” you asked. He shook his head, following you out to the rest of the apartment, shaking his head as you shoved a bottle of gatorade in his hands.

“I want coffee,” he said.

“You’re on water, gatorade and chicken broth until further notice,” you said. He rolled his eyes and chugged down his drink, sighing when he needed to take a break to get his breath back, closing his eyes. You grabbed his jacket from the front hall, throwing it over his shoulders before sliding his backpack on your own. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, trudging out after you, fixing his jacket around himself, sniffling a few times on the elevator ride down.

He was a bit more with it when you got over to the con but by the time the morning panel was over, he looked wrecked again, finding a corner of the couch in the green room to curl away into. He kept to himself, mostly laying his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his short strands gently as he took an unrestful nap. He didn’t eat lunch but you got more liquids and medicine in him, Jensen grumpy when you had to get him up to go out for his afternoon panel.

He put on a happy face the second he was out there, pushing himself through it with jokes and a smile, his voice a bit deeper and more off than earlier in the day but no one seemed to notice. You kept an eye on him during pictures and autographs, Jensen doing his best not to get germs on anyone and handing out hand sanitizer like it was candy to everyone that went through the line.

When it was time to head home, he looked exhausted, barely giving his friends a wave goodbye, passed out in the car the second he had his seatbelt on. Jared offered to help you get him up to the apartment but you knew you could handle it. Once you were inside, you sent him to take a proper shower, making sure he had his favorite pajamas to change into when he finished. After a while you heard the water turn off and he padded out to the kitchen with a soft smile and red nose, a tissue in his hands.

“I made you some chicken noodle soup,” you said, setting a bowl in front of him, sticking an ice cube in it. You got out a box of crackers and pulled out a stack for him, opening it up and setting some on a napkin nearby. He picked up his spoon and played with the soup for a moment, sleepily watching the ice cube melt before he picked up a cracker and plopped it in. He broke it in half with his spoon and waited until it got soggy, scooping it up and taking a bite, slurping up a few noodles.

“You always make the best soup,” he said quietly. “S’like my mom’s.”

“Remember the first time you got sick when we were dating? You were so grouchy and kept saying you were fine even though you clearly were not,” you said.

“I had bronchitis and a sinus infection. It wasn’t fun,” he said.

“No it wasn’t. I called your mom and asked her how to make you feel better since you were so grumpy. I got all the secret tips from her,” you said.

“Didn’t...didn’t I get sick before you met her though? I brought you to thanksgiving. I was sick earlier in the fall,” he said.

“Yeah. I was nervous but she really appreciated that I’d ask how to take care of you. She said I must really care about you,” you said.

“Should have told her I was head over heels for you,” he chuckled, coughing a little.

“I think she knew. Apparently you talked about me a lot in your weekly phone calls to your parents,” you said with a smile. “Still do.”

“Yeah. I guess I’d never done that before. My parents said they knew you were gonna be the one before we were even dating,” he said.

“You sweet on me, Ackles?” you teased, Jensen smiling as he slurped his soup.

“As iced tea,” he said, getting a chuckle from you. He ate the rest of his meal quietly as you picked up a few things and put fresh sheets on the bed, Jensen yawning when you came back out to the kitchen, most of his soup gone, about half of his crackers left.

“Have enough?” you asked, Jensen nodding. “I made leftovers and stuck them in the fridge. You can heat them up for lunch tomorrow. If you have a fever and still aren’t feeling well, I want you to go to the doctor.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, smiling when you ruffled his head. You went to the medicine on the counter, grabbing his night time medicine, Jensen wincing at it. “No more.”

“It’s cherry flavor,” you said, Jensen instantly relaxing. “This’ll help you sleep.”

“It’s gonna knock me out in about ten minutes,” he said with a laugh, throwing back the medicine, letting you walk him back to the bedroom and tuck him in.

“Oh, one more thing,” you said, walking to the bag from the pharmacy, pulling out a small bear.

“I’m not that sick,” he said, coughing when you moved his arm and placed the bear underneath it.

“Oh, so you want me to sleep in here with you then?” you teased, Jensen shaking his head. “That’s what I thought. You get your cuddle on with your new buddy for me tonight.”

“Alright. Love you,” he mumbled, giving you a smile as you turned out the light.

“Love you too, Jensen.”

#spndeanbingo #spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #au #jensen ackles #rpf #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #jensen au #supernatural fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfiction #one shot

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jungshookz · 5 years

Text

in the walls; kth

👻 pairing: kim taehyung x reader

👻 genre: spooktober day (3/7); horror but again not scary enough to knOck your socks off

👻 wordcount: 2.5k these r getting longer n longer

👻 summary: knock-knock. who’s there?

(picture source here!)

◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤

“-but yeah, that’s pretty much it!” namjoon smiles as he tucks his clipboard underneath his armpit “congratulations, y/n… you’ve officially moved in!”

you grin excitedly before letting out a little squeal and whiPping around to take a look at your brand new apartment

this is the first apartment that you’ve purchased with your own money so it is definitely a veRy exciting chapter of your life

it’s all yours!!!!!!!!!!

“as you know, i’m up on the sixteenth floor - if you need anything, just gimme a call and i’ll be right down.” namjoon pats his phone tucked away in his pocket and offers you another gentle smile

side note

namjoon is the sweeTEst landlord you’ve ever met

he’s so polite!! and kind!! and you can tell that he cares about every single one of the people who live in his building

he’s also,.,. pretty easy on the eyes and that’s just the cherry on top

(those dimples??? pLEASE)

anywaYs

you should probably figure out what you’re going to eat for dinner

it’s nearing eight o’clock now and you haven’t eaten anything all day because you were too busy getting all your furniture delivered and put together

luckily you had some help from jimin and jungkook otherwise it probably would’ve taken you like two whole days to figure out how to put the couch together

although you will say that jungkook spent half the time trying to find one missing screw from the little plastic baggie full of nuts and bolts so it was pretty much just you and jimin working together

(eventually he found it)

((it had somehow managed to bury itself into the corner of the room and he accused jimin of putting it there so that he wouldn’t be able to help with the couch and somehow screw it up))

(((jimin had no comment to make)))

to your complete and utter despair, you open the fridge to reveal absolutely nothing

to be fair you haven’t gone grocery shopping yet so you’re not entirely sure why you were expecting to have a fridge stocked full of fresh produce

you could really go for a burger

…thank god for food delivery services

“uh-huh… yep… yeah… got it… mm-hm…” you shut your bedroom door behind you and adjust your head so your phone is better sandwiched in between your ear and shoulder

you reach up to scratch as your freshly washed hair as you continue to listen to your mom on the phone

your hair is still a little damp but you couldn’t be bothered to blow-dry it all the way and you know that if you mentioned to your mom that you were going to go to bed with damp hair she would probably have a heART ATTACK

“i know, mom… yes, i locked the doors- yes, the stove isn’t on- yeS, i double- i triple-checked everything-”

as much as you love your mom you have to admit that she’s being a little toO much right now

this isn’t the first time you’ve lived alone so you don’t even know what she’s freaking out about

she’s just being a classic mom

but also it makes you feel oddly happy to hear her nagging you as if you were still a teenager

“you know, i have to get up early for work tomorrow so i should probably head to bed soon…” right on cue you let out a little yawn as you pull the blanket up and make yourself comfortable on your (brand new!) bed

after about three more minutes of ‘make sure to-’s’ and ‘don’t forget to-’s’, your mom fiNAlly decides to let you go

you plug your phone into the charger and set it down gently on the bedside table after checking that your alarm is set for tomorrow morning

yeP

7:45AM

bright and early

and then you switch your lamp off and all of a sudden your bedroom is engulfed in darkness

besides the soft glow of the moon peeking through your blinds

you didn’t think you were thAt sleepy but now that you’re snuggled deep into the warmth of your soft duvet and cloudy pillows.,,.,.

yeah

you’re dEfinitely ready for a good night’s sleep

it’s when you’re about to fall asleep that you suddenly hear a gentle knock against the wall right above your head

your brows furrow in confusion as you stare into the darkness

…

okay maybe it was just the apartment settling-

knock

you perk up and lean over to turn your bedside lamp on before sitting up straight and twisting to look at the wall

huH

interesting

you reach out slowly and smooth your hand over the wall before giving it a knock of your own

and then you wait

…

and you wait

…

and you-

knock-knock

your head tilts in curiosity and you purse your lips

o….kay….

you get up onto your knees and the mattress dips slightly as you shuffle in closer towards the wall

“h-“ you clear your throat, “hello?”

you hold your breath as you wait for a response

maybe you’re just that tired

you’re so tired that you’re imagining sounds

that is a definite possibility!

and now you’re so tired that you’re literally talking to the walls

“uh…” you lean in so that your lips are just brushing over the wall “-can you hear me?”

knock-knock

you jump slightly at the sudden response

okay

maybe your neighbour just likes getting to know you at-

you take a peek at the clock ticking away on your bedside table

11:48 at night

“i, uh, i’m y/n!” you lean in and press your ear against the wall and when you don’t hear a response for a good ten seconds you speak up again “what’s your name?”

all that can be heard is the quiet tick-tick-tick of your clock

“…should i guess your name?”

knock-knock

alright

well

it seems like your neighbour isn’t very chatty but that’s completely fine

you can figure something out

also this is kind of a weird way to introduce yourself to someone but you’re not judGing

“okay, uh… knock on the wall when i get the first letter of your name- got it?”

knock

you let out a little huff and turn around so you can lean against your headboard and you pull a pillow onto your lap

it looks like you’re not going to be going to bed anytime soon so you might as well get comfortable “-a, b, c, d, e, f, g. h, i, j, k- elemeno- p. q, r s, t-“

knock

you perk up immediately “t?”

knock

“okay, t. uh, a-“

knock

oh hEy

that was easy

“ta. a, b, c, d, e-“

knock

“tae? is that your name?”

knock-knock

“tae.” you test the name on your tongue and decide right then and there that that’s a pretty nice name

tae

“okay, tae. it was very nice meeting you, and i don’t want to be rude or anything, but i need to go to sleep, but i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

a moment of silence goes by and for a second you think you’ve ruined your first impression with your neighbour but then-

knock-knock

okay! that’s a good sign

you turn to switch your light off before snuggling back underneath the covers

“goodnight, tae.”

and so, it goes

you and this ‘tae’ person continue having these little interactions every night

it’s weird

even though he hasn’t said a single word to you and has only been able to communicate to you via knocking against the wall, it feels like you have a real connection with him

obviously you’ve been asking him a lot of yes/no questions and that’s how you’Ve gotten to know him

you know he’s 23 years old

you know he has black hair

you know he has brown eyes

you know he likes to play the saxophone

you know he moved into the apartment building five years ago

which is kinda crazy if you think about it because he was an 18 year old living by himself and when you were 18 you were petrified at the idea of even being in a grocery store without your mom (not going to lie - the idea of that still scares the crAp out of you)

you know that his favourite colour is purple

you know that he likes dogs better than cats

you know a lot of small little things about him but you just can’t help but wonder what else there is to know about him

you haven’t exactly built up the courage to ask him if he’d like to meet up in person because this knocking on the wall thing seems to be a zone of comfort for him

and even though you have a description of what he looks like that’s not the same as actually having a face to the name

(which is why you spent an hour the other night staring through your peephole just wAiting for tae to come out)

(no one came out >:-( )

“hey, tae?” it’s about week 4 and a half when you finally decide to do something about the situation

you reach out and press your palm flat against the wall “do you wanna come over to mine one night? or something? i don’t know… i just feel like… you know, it’d be nice to actually meet you and all that, so if you wanna come over sometime i’d totally be down…”

at the 20 second mark of silence you immediately become concerned

o god

u scared him off

you were toO forward

you shouldn’t have said anything!!!!! you shouldn’t have said anything to ruIN this nice little friendship that you made and the you genuinely enjoy being a part of

:-(

“or not! it’s totally fine if you just wanna stick to the knocking, i just-“

knock

you shut up as soon as you hear the familiar knocks on the wall and you give a little nod “…can i take that as a yes?”

knock-knock

the corners of your mouth tug up in a smile and you turn to lean against your headboard

aLright

see?

it wasn’t that hard

“anyways, that’s how i learned that dish soap doesn’t go into the dishwasher at all.” namjoon snorts as he shuts the dryer lid shut and you let out a little chuckle

you haven’t known namjoon for that long but you can safely conclude that uh

he’s a little bit of a doOFus

“oh! by the way, i was meaning to ask you-“ you hoist yourself up on top of the washing machine and reach over to pull your basket full of fresh laundry closer to you “what do you know about tae?”

namjoon’s brows immediately knit together as he leans forward to turn the dryer on “who?”

you falter for a second

“uh, tae? my neighbour.” you hum and continue to diligently fold your clothes

“…tae…?” namjoon trails off and narrows his eyes slightly

he knows every single one of the residents of this building better than he knows the back of his hand

but tae isn’t ringing a bell

…o god

is he a baD landlord????

“wait, are you talking about suite 403 or 401?”

“403.”

“40- wh- are you sure?”

“uh-huh. pretty sure. i’ve been talking to him for a couple of weeks now and he seEms like a nice guy but he doesn’t seem to like talking- which is totally fine, by the way, i’m not bAshing anyone for not liking to talk- i just invited him to come over sometime and i was wondering if you knew anything about him so that when we actually meet i’ll have a pretty good idea of-“

“oh, 403! namjoon suddenly perks up when the realisation hits him, “no one’s lived in that suite for years.”

yeah

no one’s lived in 403 for years

and by that he means that even before he took over the apartment building no one lived in that suite

the previous owner didn’t really tell him too much about it so he himself doesn’t really know too much about it

you immediately stop talking and tilt your head before letting out a snort “uh… no, i’m pretty sure someone’s living in that apartment. i talk to tae every night- he knocks on my bedroom wall and-“

“are you sure you’re not just hearing, like, the pipes creaking or something? because it’s been a while since i last checked those so maybe-“

“no, i’m like 100% sure that someone’s on the other side of that wall, namjoon.” you state firmly and namjoon raises his hands in defence

you swallow thickly and reach into your hamper with a shaky hand

no one’s lived in 403 for years

what does that even meAN

that doesn’t even make any sense!!!!

how could it be????

maybe namjoon’s just getting his suite numbers mixed up or something

that’s probably it

(you don’t bother double-checking that assumption with namjoon in case he hasn’t mixed up his numbers and what he’s saying is completely and utterly true)

when you return to your apartment after folding up your laundry you can’t help but notice that the air in here feels different

this is supposed to be your home

this is supposed to feel like home but the living room light is flickering slightly and you can hear the low buzz of the heater through the vents and at the same time your hands and feet are freezing

you know what

it’s whatever

you’re just going to go to bed!

you’ve had a long and tiring day and you don’t have the energy to think about whether you’re going crazy or not

“i’m not crazy. i’m not!” you mutter to yourself as you crawl into bed and snuggle up to a pillow

“not crazy.” you sigh to yourself as you stare into the darkness

you’re noT crazy

you haven’t been imagining these knocks

you’ve been talking to someone and that person’s name is tae and-

every single one of the hairs on your body shoots strAight up when you suddenly hear a familiar knock-knock

only this time, it’s not above your head against the bedroom wall like it usually is

someone’s knocking on your bedroom door

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a spooky request)

spooktober masterlist // main masterlist

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