#so I ate nearly nothing all day and eventually would give up and order dinner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Note

A/b/o + celebrities and/or coffee shop 👀

Thanks so much for the prompt, Julesy, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! Part II should be up in the next few days, but hopefully this beginning 7k will satisfy for the time being 😘

Castiel is elbow-deep in suds when Jo plunks a medium to-go cup on the edge of the sink. “Thank you?” he says, bemused.

“It’s not for you, doofus,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. “There’s a customer out back,” she jerks her head towards the service exit that leads to the alley where they dump their trash and Ruby takes her furtive smoke breaks. “I need you to take this to him.”

“Out back?” Castiel repeats dubiously, craning his neck to catch sight of their on-site baker, Benny, who is busy kneading focaccia dough for tomorrow’s sandwiches. Benny, full of southern politeness, doesn’t give any indication he’s eavesdropping.

Jo gives Castiel a short nod, her alpha scent flaring with irritation. “I’d take it out there myself, but he always talks my ear off, and Kevin still can’t draw a latte art that doesn’t look like a dick, so…”

Castiel frowns but nods, and Jo’s expression eases once she doesn't hear a challenge to her request. Still, he has to ask, “But why doesn’t he order at the counter like a normal customer?”

Jo takes a step back towards the door. “You’ll see. Just… don’t make a big deal of it.”

“A big deal of what?” Castiel calls to her, but she’s already disappeared out to the front of the cafe.

Castiel sighs and wipes his hands on a dish towel. He picks up the drink, sniffing curiously.

He nearly gags at the strong aroma of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples all on top of espresso and milk. They definitely don’t serve that on the menu. Admittedly, Castiel hasn’t memorized the list of hot drinks they serve at Hunter’s Cafe, but this is an assault on anyone with a nose. He’s been their busboy and dishwasher for six months since his second year as a graduate student began, and Jo has only let him mind the counter three times, all as far from peak time as she could get.

But a job is a job. Holding the drink, he shoulders open the back door.

“Hey - oh, you’re not Jo,” a familiar voice says.

Castiel stops dead in his tracks because, despite the sunglasses, the baseball hat, and hunched shoulders, Dean Winchester is unmistakable.

Away from the limelight, Dean apparently favors soft-looking flannels over worn tee shirts and jeans. In one hand, he holds a half depleted sheaf of french fries. Stunned, Castiel doesn't immediately hand over the reason for his appearance.

“Whatever, is that mine?” Dean demands, zeroing in on Castiel’s cup.

Still beyond speech, Castiel dumbly hands the affront to coffee over.

After a muttered thanks, Dean takes a long drink. “Christ, this tastes even better than normal.”

Castiel inhales a surreptitious breath. It’s not every day one gets to catch the scent of Hollywood’s omega darling.

Not that anyone would know Dean's secondary gender just by looking at him. Dean stands a few inches taller than the average male omega - he has nearly an inch of height on Castiel, and Castiel is the dictionary definition of standard alpha physique.

While Castiel might not be Dean’s most knowledgeable fan, he hasn’t been living under a rock for the past five years. It was all over the papers when Dean was cast in his first alpha role. Dean wasn’t the first omega actor to do so, but he was certainly the most prominent. Castiel’s sister, Anna, an actual fan, spent a memorable dinner ranting about how all the prejudiced reporters on the press tour. Apparently they only asked Dean about the diet and exercise routine that transform into a “real” alpha, while, in the next round, his alpha castmates fielded questions about their characters’ moral code and complex development.

But, in the alley behind Hunter’s Café, Castiel’s nose is completely overwhelmed by the fryers of the fast food restaurant next door, the set of dumpsters directly to his right, and the almost offensively apple coffee Dean is currently drinking like his life depends on it. Dean could smell like old gym socks for all Castiel can tell.

“Where’s Jo?” Dean asks once he resurfaces. He jams a few fries in his mouth. Before he's finished chewing, he sucks down some more latte in an unholy taste combination.

“Busy,” Castiel replies. “We have a new hire, and so far Kevin can only draw genitalia on lattes instead of flowers.”

Dean guffaws, nearly inhaling his drink. Swearing unrepentantly, he takes his sunglasses off and rubs at his temple with his free hand. “Christ, I’m too hungover to laugh like that.” He squints over at Castiek before sliding the sunglasses back on his face.

Castiel stares. “If you’re hungover, why are you here at -” he checks his watch “-seven in the morning?”

Dean slurps at his fruity latte before he answers. “Got a meeting at nine. This,” he says, brandishing his mostly empty cup, “and a large fries are the cure.” His hands occupied, Dean ducks his head to fish a single fry out and holds it like a cigarette between his lips.

“That sounds disgusting,” Castiel says, aghast.

Dean inches the rest of the fry into his mouth. “Don't knock it ‘til you try it,” he says with a wink.

Cas blushes.

“Hey,” Dean says, a new thought coming to him, “What’s your name?”

Taken aback by the question, he answers, “Castiel.”

Dean mouths his name once, his brow furrowing at the new syllables. With a small shrug of capitulation he says, “Well, Cas, thanks for the drink.” He toasts him one before tipping the cup all the way back, draining it.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

Dean grins. “I couldn't tell if you recognized me or not.”

“I did,” Castiel says, clearly unnecessarily.

Amused, Dean throws him a long, considering look. “You’ve got one hell of a poker face.” He unceremoniously shovels the rest of the fries in his mouth and balls up the wrapper. He tosses it with practiced ease into the waiting dumpster.

“Thank you?” Cas says, nonplussed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “You’re the one who saved my hide.” He sidles forward and shoves a bill into Castiel’s slack hand. Without another word, he takes off out of the alley and onto the street.

Once he’s out of sight, Castiel unclenches his hand. Dean tipped him ten dollars.

* * *

“How is this even more pungent than last time?” Castiel demands, nose wrinkling as he sets a now clean muffin tin back on the shelf. It’s been a week since he met Dean Winchester, and hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff of apple pie since then.

He is alone with Jo in the kitchen, since Benny’s early morning shift ends at eleven.

“I added a caramel drizzle,” Jo says, her scent rising with her self-satisfaction.

Castiel stares at her in horror. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“’Cause I’m trying to see what his limit is, and so far - nothing,” Jo says, shrugging. “Get to it. He’s real grouchy if you make him wait too long.”

“And why aren’t you taking it to him?” Castiel says, eyebrows rising. “Kevin’s moved onto multiple hearts now. Admittedly, his first one looked like a labia, but he’s gotten much better.”

“But Ruby didn’t show up, so we’re short staffed,” Jo says shortly. Outside, Kevin yells something indistinguishable though the kitchen door, and Jo winces.

Castiel takes the latte.

Just like last time, Dean is waiting, wearing a different flannel but the same jeans with the hole above the left knee. He abandoned the sunglasses, since the clouds overhead cast the whole alley in shade. They’re hanging from the vee of his shirt collar, pulling the fabric down a tempting extra inch.

Unfortunately, the fast food restaurant next door must have just taken out the trash last night, since the alley reeks of stale bread and rotting fish patties.

Castiel lets the door slam behind him, unable to hold back his corresponding smile as Dean lights up as he sees him.

“Thank god,” Dean says as he reaches for the latte. “I was starting to think Jo was gonna stiff me.”

“We’re short staffed at the moment,” Castiel says apologetically, “so you got me again.”

Dean eyes him over the lid of his cup. “Not a downside from where I’m standin’,” he drawls.

Castiel has no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Dean can’t mean it like Castiel thinks he does. He’s an actor, feeding people lines is the dictionary definition of his job. Instead Castiel asks, “No french fries this time?” because he’s not nearly ready to leave yet.

“Already ate ’em, while I was waiting,” Dean says dismissively.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“No harm, no foul,” Dean says with a little grin. “I got my caffeine fix eventually, and that’s what I really care about.”

“You look remarkably more put together than last time,” Castiel says as he leans against the doorway, watching Dean sip at his drink.

“Didn’t drink as much,” Dean says with a grin. He tips back his cup and takes a long pull. “Fries can only get you halfway there. Christ, that’s the stuff.”

Castiel can’t help but make a face. The latte smells horrendous; it can’t taste that much better.

“What?” Dean asks, eyes narrowing.

Castiel probably shouldn’t tell Dean what is exactly on his mind. Castiel has found very few people appreciate his default brand of honesty - Hunter’s Café customers, especially. But Dean isn’t technically his customer - he’s Jo’s - and Castiel has reached the point in his life where he doesn’t need to hang onto people who don’t like him and vice versa. Dean isn’t even providing extra publicity for the establishment, since he’s getting serviced in the alley behind the kitchen.

Technically, Castiel needs a celebrity acquaintance as much as he needs a free bag of cat food (he doesn’t have a cat).

But he does like having one.

A celebrity acquaintance, that is. Cats are inherently suspicious.

Reluctantly, Castiel says, “I can’t imagine that latte tastes very good.”

To his surprise, instead of demanding Jo bring him his coffee from now on, Dean laughs. “Not a fan of apple pie?”

“Not in my coffee.”

Dean takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. “I think it’s delicious.”

“I think your taste buds must be severely incapacitated.”

Dean waggles the near empty cup in front of Castiel’s face in what must be an enticing manner to someone with no sense of smell or taste. “Wanna try?”

Castiel valiantly holds back his recoil. “No, thank you.”

But Dean’s genial expression doesn’t waver. “‘M feeling pretty much human again, so it’s up for grabs.”

“I’d sooner lick the dumpster,” Castiel blurts before he can filter himself.

Dean whistles, rocking back on his heels. “Harsh.”

Castiel sighs. Honesty was a mistake. He mutters, embarrassed, “I’m just not a very big fan of sweets.”

“No?”

“I’ve been living with my cousin while in graduate school at Columbia,” he explains, his tone apologetic for his earlier comment, “and he has a horrendous sweet tooth. I don’t think he’s ever seen a carrot that wasn’t in a cake first.”

A wide grin splits Dean’s face. He laughs.

What Castiel wouldn’t give to scent Dean’s joy for himself. “He would probably love that latte,” Castiel continues wryly.

“Probably,” Dean agrees. He taps his fingers against the sides of the cup as he asks, “So you’re in school? For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” Castiel asks seriously. He’s had too many conversations with strangers and casual friends who have asked the exact same question and regretted asking it almost immediately.

Dean ducks his head. “I don’t know any graduate students, and I,” he breaks off, his cheeks going pink, “I never went to college, so I have no idea what it means.” He sucks on the dregs of his latte, gaze dropping to the vicinity of Castiel’s knees.

“Oh,” Castiel says, feeling lighter. “In that case, I’m studying ethnomusicology.”

Dean’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you fucking with me? That doesn’t sound real.”

“It’s a legitimate area of study,” Castiel assures him. “I research music as it pertains to culture and diverse elements of social life. Ethnomusicology focuses not only on the music itself, but music as a social process, as a medium for humans to relate to each other. In short, it examines how music functions in a particular society.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Dean doesn’t get the glazed-over look most people do when he explains his field of study. “So what kind of music are you talking about?”

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to flush. His colleagues, while they respect his academic reputation, have nearly all looked down on his chosen object of study. “One of the main tenets of ethnomusicology is a global perspective on music-”

“What, like Tibetan throat-singing?” Dean interrupts. At Castiels’ stare, he explains quickly, “Sammy had a phase.”

Castiel chuckles. “Yes, I do know a professor at Cornell who is studying just that. But my focus is much closer to home. I study,” he inhales a small breath, “tribute bands.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “What.”

“Tribute bands offer a fascinating definition of the nature of performance, the difference between authenticity and identity,” Castiel says, already on the defensive. He can already hear his voice trying to fall into his usual academic patterns, and tries to rein himself in, “and historical consciousness in popular music. Here -” He pulls out his phone.

Dean listens in complete silence to Yellow Dubmarine’s cover of I Want You.

“Anyway,” Castiel coughs, embarrassed he made Dean sit through all that, “I also teach Rock and Roll from the 1950s to 1980s. There is a great deal of crossover with my specialty since most tribute bands recreate acts from the 60s to the 80s.”

“Dude,” Dean says in a rush, “if you think that makes you less interesting, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Castiel blinks.

“What bands are we talkin’ about?” he asks eagerly. “More Beatles? The Stones? The Who?”

Castiel nods. “I’m hoping to go to a Lez Zeppelin concert next month.”

“Led Zeppelin?”

“Lez,” Castiel says, emphasizing the ‘z’, “an all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band.”

Dean frowns. “They have a gimmick?”

Castiel shakes his head. “They’re completely sincere, I assure you.” He smiles wryly. “I interviewed Misstallica for a paper I’m writing on diverse, for lack of a better word, musicians in the tribute world, and they felt right at home with the long hair and tight pants. I’ve never met people who more adore the songs they perform.”

“Huh,” Dean says, rubbing his chin.

“Except maybe Air-O-Smith,” Castiel adds, “an American all-omega tribute band of Aerosmith.”

Dean’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“My favorite all-omega tribute band, though, is Omega You Eight One Two,” Castiel muses, “a Van Halen cover band.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says faintly.

“Their lead guitarist, as you can imagine, is phenomenal.”

Dean shakes his head, his expression going slack. “Wait, seriously? That’s a thing? All omega acts?”

“Of course,” Castiel says. “That’s one of the most compelling aspects of tribute bands, when they flip the traditional male-alpha dynamic of the original, and how they translate that into their own act while keeping the whole performance authentic to the creators. It’s a fascinating process to watch and study.”

“I bet,” Dean says fervently. “Hey, d’you think-”

The back door opens before Dean can finish his sentence.

Jo pokes her head out, looking askance at the pair of them. “Are you still out here?” She glares at Dean. “Stop complaining about your diet, and let Castiel come back to work.”

Castiel’s mouth purses. “You’re on a diet?”

“Not on cheat day,” Dean tells him, lifting his empty cup. He turns to Jo. “And I wasn’t complaining at all. Cas was actually telling me about tribute bands.”

“Really?” Jo asks, her nose wrinkling.

Dean tosses his trash in the dumpsters. “They sound awesome.”

“I like them,” Castiel says lamely, off-footed now the conversation is clearly wrapping up.

Jo rolls her eyes, alpha irritation practically radiating off her. “Good for you.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you deal with Joanna Beth on your own,” Dean says as he pulls out his wallet and hands Castiel a folded bill. He gives a mocking salute as he takes a step back, “Good luck, dude.”

“Thank you?”

“Come on, fanboy,” Jo growls once Dean’s disappeared from view, “back to work.”

* * *

“Can’t you take it?” Castiel asks, his tone verging on pleading, as Jo follows him back into the kitchen. It’s too early in the morning for another meeting, closer to first time Castiel met Dean at seven am compared to their last meeting at a little before eleven.

This past weekend, Castiel went down a spiral of Dean Winchester content. He read up on all of Dean’s recent projects, scanned headlines about rumors of his next film - some action thriller that Castiel presumes is the reason for Dean’s diet, and watched interview after interview. Dean on Stephen Colbert. Dean on Good Morning America. Dean on some very confusing show where they forced him to eat spicy chicken wings, which just seemed like an exercise in pepper-based sadism.

Castiel didn’t really understand the Saturday Night Live skit where Dean played one half of a demon-hunting brother duo, but the live studio audience laughed uproariously at multiple points.

Jo all but slams Dean’s latte on the ledge above the sink. “You know the health inspector is here. I can’t let Ruby near the guy, and you know how Kevin gets around figures of authority.”

Castiel sets down his tub of dirty dishes. “He nearly peed himself when he had to tell you he dropped a tray of scones over the floor last week,” he says flatly.

“Exactly,” Jo says. “Benny is busy,” she says, tipping her head to where Benny is adding more flour to a huge bowl.

“Cheers, darlin’.”

She turns back to Castiel. “So, you’re it today, champ.”

“Great,” Castiel grumbles.

“What?” Jo asks, her hands on her hips. “You seemed to get along with Dean. I actually didn’t know you could talk that much before I sent you back there.”

Castiel carefully transfers the dirty plates to the sink. “Getting along with him isn’t the problem,” he says darkly.

“Getting along with him too well is the issue?” Jo asks, her eyebrows rising.

Castiel scowls at her observation. Her emotional intuition is what makes her an excellent café manager, so he can hardly fault her for that. He doesn’t respond to her question.

“Take it to him,” Jo says, her tone softening. “He likes you.”

Castiel raises his head to stare at her. “How do you know that?”

Jo pulls her phone from her back pocket and waves it in his face. “We talk,” she says. “How do you think he orders every time? He’s not getting those lattes for free, not after I spent so much time getting them exactly right.”

Castiel can’t hold back his grimace. The latte still smells awful, like a vat of boiled candied apples.

“Look,” Jo says, lowering her voice, “Dean’s famous, sure, but he’s actually a very private person. He runs his mouth to anyone who’ll listen, but he never really says anything important. So he doesn’t really connect with a lot of people. If he says he likes you, I’m gonna say that’s a good thing - if you tell him I said this, I’ll kick your ass - and make you his designated errand boy.”

Castiel bites his lip. “But I don’t -”

“Dude, don’t make me pull the boss card,” Jo says, just the barest hint of threat in her words.

“Fine.” Castiel snatches the latte off the counter. “But I want a raise.”

“You can get a free sandwich.”

Castiel glares daggers as he shoulders open the back door.

But the alley is empty.

Castiel breathes through his mouth as he steps out. The overflowing dumpsters carry the odor of moldering cheese and more rancid fish, and the fryers next door are still going strong. He doesn’t find Dean lurking behind the trash for some strange reason, and he’s about to head back in and dump Dean’s latte down the sink when a shout makes him turn around.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean calls, jogging in from the brightly lit street.

“Hello, Dean.” He hands over the latte.

“Thanks - sorry.” Dean rubs the back of his neck with his other hand. “Some fans caught me sneaking in here, and wanted a selfie.”

“Oh,” Castiel says for lack of anything better to say.

Dean tips back his cup, his expression falling into pure bliss. “Christ, that’s so much better when I’m not hungover.”

Castiel stares. “You’re drinking that with all your capacities intact?”

“Ain’t no better way to enjoy pie,” Dean says, grinning widely.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “That’s not pie.”

“It’s as close as I’m gonna get at eight in the morning on a Thursday,” Dean says with a shrug.

Silence falls between them, and Castiel can’t help glancing over Dean’s shoulder, tentatively scanning for the people who caught his attention earlier. Plenty more would have approached Dean if he didn’t have Jo’s latte waiting for him; Castiel would bet his job on it.

Dean is a celebrity.

Castiel is a grad student who can’t even afford to support a guinea pig on his stipend and café salary.

After a long beat, Dean asks, a touch hesitantly, “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Stalking you on the internet.

“Nothing,” Castiel lies. At the slight fall in Dean’s expression, he adds, “I cleaned my kitchen over the weekend.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re a weird dude, you know that?”

Hurt, Castiel takes a step back. Jo probably needs him for… something.

“Not in a bad way!” Dean says quickly. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, “please don’t stop giving me coffee.”

Castiel hesitates. “Why is it weird that I cleaned my kitchen?” He frowns. “I suppose you employ someone to do that for you.”

Dean seesaws his free hand back and forth as he sips at his latte. “Not always,” he lowers his voice, “I actually like cleaning - it helps me relax and shit. There’s nothing like blasting some tunes and scrubbing out that stain on the counter that’s been annoying you forever.”

Castiel lowers his voice too. “Is this a secret?”

Dean grimaces. “Not really. But, you know, it’s one of those omega things.”

Castiel doesn’t know. Well, he knows it is a stereotypical omega trait to like housework, but he has no idea why Dean would whisper it in a back alley like he’s confessing to defrauding an elderly relative. “And that is bad because…?”

Dean takes a long pull from his cup. “I don’t want to hammer the omega thing home too hard, alright?”

“But you are an omega,” Castiel says, feeling a little stupid for saying it out loud.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “but if I lean into it, I’ll stop getting alpha roles.”

“You only want to play alphas?” Castiel asks curiously.

Dean’s mouth twists. “They’re the better parts. Omegas are always the damsels in distress or get killed off first for the plot.”

“I’m sure not all films are like that,” Castiel says. God knows, Anna made him sit through enough films with an omega protagonist that did not fit the typical romantic comedy restrictions.

“Most.”

“The last movie I saw,” Castiel says, hesitant because Dean must know more about this than him, “my sister recommended it, it had an omega lead who led a team of paranormal investigators. A sort of horror-comedy.”

Dean’s face loses some of its hostility. Almost intrigued, he asks gruffly, “D’you know who wrote it?”

“Not off the top of my head.” Castiel pulls out his phone to look it up. He reads aloud, “Ghostfacers, directed by Ed Zeddmore, written by Harry Spangler. Starred Maggie Zeddmore and Alan Corbett.” He pauses, trying to remember the details. “I think they both were omegas. I’m sure there are more films like Ghostfacers out there for you to make.”

Dean sips at his latte. “A few. None with big enough names attached to really get on my radar.”

“Well, if you signed on, wouldn’t there be a big name attached?”

“Yeah,” Dean says in a tone that clearly conveys he’s thought of this possibility before. He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just - what if I take one of these roles, and it gets all this attention just ’cause I’m in it, and it flops?”

Castiel tilts his head. “That would hardly be your fault. Most failed films are hardly the work of one person. Usually, it’s a combination of a bad story, bad production, and bad acting.” He levels Dean an appraising look. “Right off the bat, you control two of those elements - pick a good script and act as well as you always have.”

Dean blinks. “You’ve seen my stuff?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “I thought I already said I knew who you were?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean says, his voice petering off with embarrassment, “that didn’t mean you liked my movies.”

“The majority of America liked your last movie, Dean,” Castiel says dryly. “Either that, or you have a very hardworking and wealthy mother who poured a hundred million dollars into ticket sales.”

“I mean, Mom’s a fan, but not that big of a fan,” Dean says, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure she’d rather get a twenty-minute call from yours truly than sit through a two-hour flick with my name on the poster.”

Castiel hands over his phone. “Here,” he says, tilting it so Dean can see the summary of Ghostfacers.

Dean brightens as he reads through it. “The Alpha dies first?”

“He thought he could deal with the ghost on his own.”

“Typical alpha macho,” Dean snorts. His head snaps up as he gives the phone back. “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Castiel says easily. “With my lifestyle, posturing is a waste of time. I’ve long ago resigned myself to not being the primary breadwinner in any future household.”

“Really?”

Castiel throws him a look. “I’m in academia, Dean. Tenure is hardly a guarantee. Even so, there isn’t a wealth of money out there for ethnomusicology grants.”

Dean tips his head in acknowledgement. “It’s awful big of you.”

“Just logical,” Castiel says evenly. “It shrinks my dating pool considerably, but I’d rather do what I love than compromise that much for any potential partner.”

Dean inhales a deep breath, his eyes unfathomable. “I get that.”

“If it means I can’t afford to mate a house-omega, I’ll just have to keep cleaning my kitchen myself,” Castiel finishes with a shrug.

Dean grins. “I mean, if you spot me a six pack and don’t tell my trainer about it, I’ll clean your kitchen.”

Castiel turns bright red. He can’t bring himself to respond to that offer, so he changes the subject.

* * *

Castiel doesn’t even bother pretending to protest as Jo barges into the kitchen, the telltale scent of sugary apples wafting around her like a palpable shield. Castiel already set himself for heartbreak where Dean Winchester is concerned. He might as well take advantage of every interaction he has left.

He went to sleep late last night, watching one of Dean’s earlier movies. He was slimmer and younger, but he still shone with his signature charisma and talent. For the first time since Castiel started the morning shift at Hunter’s Café, he snoozed his alarm.

Hurrying through his morning routine, Castiel couldn’t help resenting Dean just a little. If only Dean hadn’t chosen a profession where his literal job is to be whatever his audience wants him to be.

As Castiel pushes open the door, Dean is waiting outside. Dark sunglasses shield his green eyes, and a violet bruise blooms over his left eyebrow. As the door slams shut behind Castiel, Dean winces. His left hand holds a half-empty paper container of french fries.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says. “You don’t look good.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says darkly. “Gimme.”

Castiel pauses. “Did your hangover eliminate your manners?”

Dean flushes bright red. “No,” he mutters. “Sorry, Cas. I just feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Castiel says frankly as he hands it over.

“Thanks,” Deans says, his voice sour as old lemons. “I told Charlie tequila shots before Monopoly was a bad idea, but did anyone listen to me?” He gestures to his face. “Next thing I know, Jo’s throwing Charlie’s bag of DnD dice at my head.”

“You got that playing Monopoly? Wait, Jo did this to you?” he demands, gesturing to the cafe behind him. “Jo Harvelle?”

Dean just glares over the rim of his coffee cup. “Yeah, Katniss got me good.”

“God, why?”

One corner of Dean’s mouth lifts in a distinctly smug smirk. “’Cause she was going bankrupt, and she had to sell her last property to me.”

“So this was because of Monopoly,” Castiel says dubiously. In his experience, a board game has never led to actual violence.

Dean shrugs. “Game nights get intense. Why do you think I’m always bangin’ down your door the morning after?”

Castiel can’t believe it. “You’ve been getting this drunk at a game night? Every time?”

“So what?” Dean shoves four french fries in his mouth. “Whaddya think I was doin’?”

“Partying?” he suggests.

Dean snorts. “Maybe six years ago when I was doing B-level flicks and trying to meet as many people as I could. Now I have a back-to-back shooting schedule and hangovers if I don’t pace myself.”

Castiel watches Dean polish off his fries at a truly impressive and horrifying speed. He can’t help asking, “Why was Jo at your game night?”

“’Cause she’s a menace who knows how to pick locks?” Dean heaves a weighty sigh. “I’ve known Jo since we were kids. She and her mom - who started Hunter’s Café - were my neighbors.”

“I had no idea.”

Dean gestures to the alley with a wry hand. “Jo likes to keep it under wraps.”

“I see why Jo keeps making those drinks for you,” Castiel says, nodding at the half-finished latte in Dean’s hand.

“You didn’t make it?” Dean says, and does he sound almost disappointed?

Castiel shakes his head. “Jo is keeping the recipe close to the chest.”

“Probably worried everyone’ll want one if they get the taste.” Dean tips the cup back.

Castiel can’t help his noise of disgust. At Dean’s sharp look, he says aloud, “She’s probably worried everyone will never come back if they try it.”

Dean’s laugh cuts off with a wince. He raises a hand to his head. “Christ, last night was a mistake.”

Castiel surreptitiously scents the air for a better gauge of how discomfited Dean really is, but, as always, all he gets is trash and fryer oil. “How are you doing? Apart from the injury, headache, and general hangover-related malaise.”

“Oh, apart from that?” Dean echoes mockingly, but his words lack any heat. He crams a few fries into his mouth. “I asked my agent to send me a few more scripts with omega roles,” he mutters.

Castiel smiles. “That’s great.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Hopefully, she’ll pick out a decent one, and I can get something set up for after Two for the Show wraps.”

“Is Two for the Show the reason for your diet?”

Dean huffs. “Yeah. I have a bunch of shirtless scenes, so that means three months with the diet coach from hell.”

Castiel makes a noise of sympathy. After a moment, he asks, “Is it worth it?”

Dean chews a fry, scowling between bites. “Not really,” he says in a low voice. “Sammy’s the farmers market maniac in the family.” Wistfully, he continues, “Give me a good cheeseburger deluxe every day for the rest of my life with a side of pie, and I’ll die a happy man.”

“I didn’t think apple pie came as a side.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Dean says with an obnoxiously loud slurp of his latte.

Castiel doesn’t bother holding back his smile.

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand. “It’s just like, I don’t look like a traditional omega, so I figured I might as well try for the alpha roles.” He swallows. “’S a win-win situation. I look the part and the characters are better - what’s the downside?”

Castiel cocks his head. “Other than your restricted diet and inadvisable levels of drinking?”

A humorless smile pulls at Dean's mouth. “Not pullin’ the punches this morning, huh?”

Castiel colors, his face heating with shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” An inadequate excuse, but it’s not like he can tell Dean the real reason for his more uncharitable thoughts.

Castiel has never been one to lean into his alpha instincts. Possessiveness, aggression, arrogance - Castiel has had his (mostly regrettable) moments, but they hardly define his character. But over these past few weeks, he’s had to repeatedly tell himself that he can’t solve Dean’s problems. Dean is a wildly successful adult with millions of fans, while Castiel can’t even handle Hunter Cafe's front counter during the morning rush.

Dean would hardly welcome a nobody little alpha telling him to just… do what he wants and damn the consequences because he deserves to be happy with his life and his work.

Dean plucks out the rest of his fries and balls the wrapper against his hip. He lobs it in the dumpster. “No, I get it. I’m complaining about things that most people would kill to have.” He glances towards the mouth of the alley, his mouth set in a thin line.

But before Dean can leave, Castiel says quickly, “That’s not the way I see it. Your specific frustrations aren’t universal, but hardly anyone’s are. Society is inherently unfair, and it’s understandable to be angry about it.”

God knows Castiel railed enough about the unfairness of Dean Winchester to Gabriel enough over the past few weeks.

Even now, hungover and bruised, Dean is beautiful.

Castiel steels himself. “And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think not looking like a typical omega is a bad thing.”

Dean turns to him in surprise, and Castiel would give up that free sandwich Jo offered him to be able to scent what exactly Dean is feeling. But, after a second that stretches into an eternity, all Dean gives him is a quiet, “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel nods, chastised by Dean’s reaction. “I should get back to work,” he says awkwardly.

Dean mutters something that might be a swear underneath his breath. Raising his voice, he says, his tone apologetic, “’Course. Sorry for keeping you.”

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s alright. I,” he pauses, “always enjoy talking to you.”

Dean’s mouth lifts into a small smile, and it’s like the sun rising through the early morning fog. “You too, man.”

* * *

After his next shift, Castiel asks Jo to show him how to make Dean’s apple pie latte.

Castiel’s first attempt is a disaster. He burns the espresso and adds too much nutmeg. Jo makes him try it anyway, as a non-monetary payment for her time. As Castiel gags, a smirking Jo dumps the bitter, weirdly savory mess down the sink.

“Passable,” Jo declares at Castiel’s second try. “You need more of the apple concentrate, though.”

“It’ll be too strong,” Castiel protests even as he shakes more powder in and gives it a stir. He hands it back to Jo for evaluation.

“You could barely taste it!” Jo says. She raises it to her lips. “Mm, that’s the stuff.”

“It is?” Castiel asks hopefully.

Jo nods and pushes the cup towards him. “That’s what it’s supposed to taste like.”

Castiel frowns as the overly sweet apples hit his tongue. He can barely taste the coffee underneath all the other layers.

“Trust me,” Jo says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she sets Castiel up for a third cup. “Your scent’s getting in the way, but it tastes exactly like an apple pie.”

“My scent?” Castiel echoes, baffled.

Jo throws him a look as she pushes a clean coffee cup into his hands. “Yeah, you already smell, I dunno, crisp but sweet? A little like apples. Makes you think the latte dials it up to eleven when it’s more like a nine for everyone else.”

Castiel hadn’t thought to put those pieces together, but it makes an astonishing amount of sense.

He brings his last apple pie latte home to Gabriel, and his cousin makes him write down, step by step, how to make it. In between actual licks into the cup to get the dregs, Gabriel swears to visit him at Hunter’s Café more often.

When Jo next ducks her head into the kitchen to tell Castiel that Dean will swing by in fifteen minutes, Castiel gets to work. He awkwardly sidles behind the front counter and maneuvers around Ruby and Kevin, nearly knocking Kevin’s elbow as Kevin attempts some elaborate leaf pattern.

Castiel draws a rudimentary apple on top of Dean’s latte, and if it looks more like a misshapen mango, nobody will see it but Dean.

For the first time, Castiel heads out to wait for Dean at the mouth of the alley.

Dean doesn’t keep him in suspense for long. He makes his way down the street, shoulders hunched, and head bowed. Gaze fixed on the dirty sidewalk, Dean doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he turns the corner.

Dean isn’t even wearing sunglasses or a hat to hide his face, but everyone walks straight past him.

It’s the most riveting performance Castiel has ever seen.

A few steps away, Dean catches sight of him, and it’s like some magic switch is flipped on, and he is Dean Winchester again.

Smiling brightly, he jogs the rest of the distance and follows Castiel as he slinks further back into the alley. Dean wrinkles his nose as they get closer to the dumpsters and the smell of an entire rancid fast food menu hits him. “Hey, Cas,” he says as he takes his latte. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, tipping his head.

Dean stares down oddly at the demented pear and takes a sip. Face going slack with a bliss Castiel doesn’t even need to smell, Dean groans.

Castiel freezes and sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the apron covering his lower half over his pants. “It’s good?” he tries futilely because Dean is clearly beyond speech.

Dean just gives him a thumbs up as he lowers the cup. He licks his lips, chasing the taste, and Castiel has seen pornography less graphic.

“I might have to tip Jo this time too,” Dean says, staring at the latte in his hand in wonder.

Castiel coughs. “I - I made this one, actually.”

Dean chokes on his next mouthful. “Are you serious?”

Castiel nods because if he opens his mouth he’s not sure what exactly will come out. Probably something highly embarrassing.

“This is the best one I’ve ever had,” Dean swears.

Castiel’s whole body heats with the force of his blush. “Thank you. I asked Jo how to make it, since it seems like I’ve taken over your delivery duties.”

Dean grins. “You’re a lot more fun than Jo,” he says lightly, “so I’m not complainin’.”

Castiel didn’t think he could get any redder, but here he is.

After an awkward beat, Dean says, “I think I found my next movie.”

“Really?”

Dean shrugs, but his eyes glimmer with anticipation. “It’s a World War II biopic about an omega who sneaks into the army, disguises himself as an alpha, and rescues a unit trapped behind enemy lines.” He taps his fingers against the side of his half-empty cup. “A little on the nose, but the script is good.”

“It sounds very promising,” Castiel agrees.

“Their biggest problem was the budget - historical pics aren’t cheap. But they think if I sign on early, they can leverage my name with the studio.” He smiles shyly. “Get the movie done right.”

“That’s fantastic,” Castiel says, a delightful warmth filling his chest - still a pale reflection of Dean’s excitement.

“Thanks to you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise. “Me?”

Dean throws him a funny look. “Yeah, you. You told me to get my head outta my ass and movies I actually like doing-”

“Not in so many words-” Castiel interjects, alarmed.

“’Cause the whole point of doing these stupid macho alpha flicks was so I could get the clout and money to do the stuff I actually liked,” Dean continues. “And I kept thinking, can’t do it yet, not there yet, until some rando tells me, fuck yeah you can.”

“I definitely didn’t say that-”

“It was implied,” Dean says blithely, waving off his protests. “So I figured, if this dude who doesn’t know me from Adam-”

“I’ve seen several of your films.”

“- tells me to go for it - it being something I’d thought of doing for years - is there any real reason why I shouldn’t?”

Castiel just stares at him, stunned.

Dean beams. “I’ve got a meeting with the director next week.”

“That’s wonderful,” Castiel says sincerely.

“Anyway, yeah, it’s partially thanks to you,” Dean says, tipping his latte in Castiel’s direction. “I also want to talk about romantic B-plot since I think it’s stupid.” He shakes his head, scoffing. “True mates, bullshit.”

“You think true mates are bullshit?”

As far as Castiel saw online, Dean’s never spoken on the record about true mates or any mates at all. Entertainment news sources reported rumors about him and a one-named alpha singer, Amara, early in his career, which he denounced thoroughly. A few months later, someone published revealing photos of him and an older alpha actor, Fergus Crowley. When asked about it, Dean refused to give details.

Dean makes a face. After a pause, he says, “My parents said they were true mates, but it wasn’t… pretty. No Hollywood romance between them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“’S fine,” Dean says in a tone that clearly says it isn’t. “Whenever Dad took off for a few days, I’d get to watch as many movies as I wanted, and - well, the rest is history.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s found their true mate,” Castiel says. His parents had a cold, distant marriage. A few times over the years, he wasn’t sure his mother even liked his father’s scent. Anna happily mated another omega last year, and Gabriel avoids all romantic entanglements like the black plague.

Castiel’s dating history can best be described as dismal. During his last visit to his pediatrician, his doctor called him a “late bloomer” which Castiel eventually realized just meant socially awkward. In the decade since, Castiel’s slept with a grand total of three people. And, to his supreme regret, none of them managed to bring his rusty people skills up to par.

But, in college, Castiel found music and his calling. And all his faults didn’t matter nearly as much.

In the crowd of a concert, people are so far outside the ordinary conditions of life, and so conscious of the fact, that they free themselves from individual concerns and devote themselves wholly to the collective. All their fury, their joy, their hunger for what they can’t have, is sublimated into the music.

Castiel has never felt more connected to humanity than in the middle of a crowd.

Truthfully, none of his past relationships ever measured up. None of his past partners ever managed to get Castiel out of his own head - not like the music.

Castiel shakes his head ruefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a true mate even if I had one.”

“Have a lot of super sappy sex with the lights on?” Dean offers, laughing.

Castiel frowns. “I wasn’t aware that kind of intercourse was restricted to true mates. I’ve done that in the past since I've always shared an emotional connection with the people I've slept with.”

“Oh,” Dean says, reddening. “Were you mated? Jo didn’t say.”

Inordinately pleased that Dean had asked Jo about him, Castiel shakes his head. “No, I’ve never been mated.”

Dean drains his latte. Swallowing, he says, “Me neither.” He throws the cup in the open dumpster and turns back to Castiel. “I haven’t dated in a while, actually,” he says in a low voice. “Couldn’t risk being seen with an alpha and remind everyone of what I’m not.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Surely people can’t be that close-minded.”

“’Course they can. Most are,” Dean says, his voice full of assurance.

Castiel’s mouth twists. “That sounds like a negativity bias to me.”

“Huh?”

“Negative information sticks with us longer and more strongly than any positive counterpart,” Castiel says with a shrug. “It’s something I always keep in mind when reading my course reviews after the semester is over.”

“So," Dean says, eyes dancing, "you can take the nerd out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the nerd, huh?”

Castiel smiles wryly. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Dean laughs. “Look,” he starts, his expression turning a fraction more serious. “I might be fucking up a good thing here, but do you want to go to a Lez Zeppelin show next week?”

Castiel’s mouth falls open as Dean reaches out and pulls out his phone to show him a ticket confirmation email.

“It’s no big if you don’t want to,” Dean says awkwardly into the silence.

“I - I do,” Castiel says, stumbling over the words. “You do?”

“Uh,” Dean throws him a bemused look, “Yeah? I bought the tickets, dude.”

“I’m just surprised,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean stares at him. “This is seriously comin’ out of nowhere for you?”

“A little,” Castiel says defensively.

“Seriously?”

Castiel shrugs helplessly. “You’re … you. You’re famous. Why would you ask me?”

“Because I like you?” Dean says, nonplussed. “You’re nice in a way a lot of the alphas I know aren’t, and,” he breaks off, reddening, “you said you didn’t mind that I didn’t fit in with other omegas, looks-wise-”

“I don’t,” Castiel interrupts. “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Dean gapes. “Did you seriously -” he breaks off, apparently unable to voice the rest of his thought. His face turns an impressive shade of crimson.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should I not have said that?” he asks, brow furrowing. This can’t be the first time Dean has been complimented on his looks. As Castiel understands, good looks are one of the main precursors to acceptance in Hollywood.

“No - I mean, maybe - never mind,” Dean fumbles, more out of sorts than Castiel has ever seen him. “It’s that nobody just out and says that, even to me.”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says, but he’s smiling. “You should look in the mirror sometime, though.” He winks, and Castiel’s brain nearly fritzes out. “So that’s a yes?”

Castiel nods, an all-encompassing warmth filling his chest and exploding out to the tips of his fingers and toes. “I’d love to.”

“It’s a date.”

Read Part II here!

#destiel fanfic #fanfic #destiel #profoundnet #rae writes fic #alpha castiel #omega dean winchester #alpha beta omega dynamics #celebrity dean winchester #barista castiel #professor castiel #the original apple pie latte

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kravkalackin · 4 years

Text

Kravitz had answered the listing as a joke. He had assumed that said listing had been a joke. Now he was wondering if this was going to be the thing that got him murdered.

Reading it over again, it hadn't changed from when he looked at it five minutes ago.

Listing: Fake Boyfriend To Avoid Jogging With Roommate Serious Responses Only

Additional details: my roommate keeps trying to make me go to the gym with him, so I told him I couldn't cause I have a date that day. It worked the first six times but now he's starting to get suspect. Especially because the dates are at 6am. Need a cute boy to stand in as a fake date. If you have a job that would require you to go on dates at fucking sunrise that is a plus. Will pay for breakfast, just need a few photos to throw off the scent

Kravitz wasn't sure what possessed him to reply, other than the picture the user had posted was um, very nice. And it was funny.

The person, Taako he mentioned once they started talking, had asked for a picture of him back. Almost as soon as he sent it he was starting to make plans for a fake breakfast date, and at that point Kravitz felt too far gone to back out.

So here he was at 6am on a Friday, inside of the earliest opening coffee shop they could find. Kravitz was starting to think he got stood up (which somehow felt almost as bad as being murdered) when he saw Taako come in. He didn't have to scan around long before he caught sight of him, the place nearly empty.

"Oh good you're here and don't look like a murderer, things are looking up on cha boy's end," Taako said. Despite how early it was he certainly seemed to be dressed for a date.

"The murderers we were probably supposed to run into doing this are going to feel pretty awkward when they end up trying to kill each other at the same time," he joked, getting a surprised laugh out of Taako.

"Shit yeah, that's gonna lead to a lot of awkward exchanges at the annual cyber killer convention," he said, Taako giving him a very nice smile. "But yeah, thanks for doing this, lemme spot you breakfast and a cuppa Joe and we can grab some pics," he added. Kravitz nooded, following Taako up to the counter. Once they ordered they sat back down and Kravitz hadn't actually thought any of this through. He kinda figured he'd be dead by now.

"So uh, Taako, if you don't mind me asking, " he started, Taako nodding along, "why can't you just tell your roommate you don't want to go to the gym?" he asked, a little surprised when Taako groaned dramatically.

"Ugh, because he gets all sad and whiny about how we never hang out together and how it'll be fun and naturally I have a heart of gold and will eventually give in and fucking take him for his walk like the overgrown golden retriever that he is," he explained. Their food was called up at the counter at this point and Kravitz quickly jumped up to grab it. By the time he got back Taako already had his phone out.

"Ok that's fucking Instagram worthy right there," he said, taking a picture of Kravitz as he held the platter.

"You're not actually going to put that on Instagram are you? I mean you can if you want to, I have no idea how to use the site," he said. Taako seemed to think it over for a bit before shaking his head.

"Nah, these'll be for private use only," he said, winking for good measure. Which was certainly something.

As they ate Taako snapped a few more pictures, including one of a very cutesy kiss on the cheek. It was all a little ridiculous but by the end Kravitz was actually having fun.

And when they parted with Taako thanking him profusely again for the help he almost regretted not asking for a possible real follow up date.

He was pretty delighted when Taako called him back the next day, although he wasn't expecting him to sound so panicked.

"So uh small problem, nothing to freak out about," he said, immediately freaking Kravitz out.

"And uh what's that? Did your roommate not believe you?" he asked.

"No uh, he believed it a little too well and he showed a picture to my sister who showed it to her husband and uh do you happen to work with a Barry Bluejeans?" Taako said, the words all coming out in a rush. It took a few long moments for what Taako was saying to process in his head, but when it did he felt his eyes widen.

"Oh, um, yes. Yes I know him," he said.

"Yeah so my brother in law and sister are demanding I bring you over for dinner and I figure I should warn you before you get bombarded at work," Taako said, and Kravitz had to take a moment to take a deep breath before he responded.

"Should I bring a dessert?" He asked. There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end before Taako burst out laughing.

"Fuck, keep that up and I might have to upgrade you to fake fiance," he said, and Kravitz couldn't help but grin at that.

This was fake, he knew it was fake.

But at least it was fun.

#taz #the adventure zone #taakitz #taako #Kravitz #long post #maybe ill make this a whole fic #been a while since I did fake dating

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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years

Text

Adoption Day

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2089

For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff

Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!

Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"

Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.

“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”

“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?

“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.

“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”

*****************

“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”

When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”

“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”

“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”

“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.

“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”

You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.

“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.

It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.

“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”

“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.

“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”

****************

After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.

“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”

“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”

“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.

“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.

“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.

“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”

“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”

“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”

“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”

“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”

*******************

A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”

Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”

Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”

Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.

“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.

“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”

You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…

“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.

“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.

“Mew, mew, mew!”

You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.

“Mew! Mew!”

“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.

**************

Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.

“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.

“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.

“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”

He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.

“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”

“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”

“Mew?”

“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”

“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.

“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.

“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”

“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,

“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”

You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”

“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.

“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”

“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”

“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”

#frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton x female reader #frederick chilton #cat daddy frederick #frederick chilton imagines #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #my writing

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levi-akerman248 · 3 years

Text

I love you

Levi x male reader

Summary: Levi and his boyfriend(Y/n)have naturally fell into a day to day routine with each other. But one bad day and a lack of filter causes utter agony in Levi’s already sorrowful life. Leaving him with regrets.

Warning: angst, eventual character death

Note: sorry, I felt like crying today. 🥲

Part 1

“Leviiiiiii~”

The cheerful singing of his name woke Levi up from his slumber

He opened his eyes and was met with the bright (e/c) eyes of his lover

His lips curl slightly into his version of a smile and he grumbles out a “good morning”

(Y/n) smiles, hovering over his sleepy boyfriend who has yet to get out of bed

He leans down and kisses Levi’s cheek, “Good morning love, you have a meeting you need to get ready for.”

Levi rolls his eyes and ever so slightly pouts, he hated meetings. Especially in the morning. But never the less he begrudgingly got up to start the day, not forgetting to give his grinning lover a goodbye kiss on his way out.

...

One very long and very boring meeting later, Levi walked down the hallway to (Y/n)’s office. He always feels so drained after meetings and just wants so sit on his boyfriends lap and cuddle.

Not that he’d ever admit that.

He knocked on the door and heard the gentle “Come in.” Echo from within.

(Y/n) looked up at who entered and when he saw his baby boy looking like a kicked puppy he knew what was up

While Levi really wants cuddles, he could never initiate it so (Y/n) always finds a way to make Levi think the cuddle session was something he needed and not Levi.

“Hello love, you’re here just in time. This paper work was starting to give me a headache, I could really use a cuddle.”

He smiled up at Levi who was now standing in front of his office chair, looking down at him (for once)

Rolling his eyes, Levi huffed.

“Maybe I don’t want to cuddle.”

(Y/n) new this was a giant lie and horrible attempt at Levi keeping his reputation in check

(Y/n) pouted up at levi with his arms out, “Please love, I really need it.”

Levi gave out a dramatic huff and practically jumped into (Y/n)’s lap

“Fine, but only for a minute brat.”

They both knew he wouldn’t leave his lap until dinner but that was alright.

...

Dinner came and went, they both sat at the upper command table and ate their food. Levi giving what he couldn’t eat to (Y/n) who ate it without trouble. Hange rambled about their day and before they knew it, it was time for bed.

(Y/n) was just getting out of the shower and entering the bedroom where Levi was laying down with a book. He had already showered so he was just waiting for (y/n).

When he was dressed, (Y/n) realized Levi still hadn’t put his book down. Wanting some attention, he crawled onto the bed, wiggled his way onto Levi, and shoved his head under the book, gazing up into his lovers eyes

Levi gave him a little smirk, “Yes?”

(Y/n) pouted, “You’re more interested in that book then me”

Levi chuckled and rolled his eyes

They always did this. Levi would read a book in bed, (Y/n) would shove his head between Levi and the book, then claim Levi liked the book better then him. Knowing full well Levi would disagree and give him the attention he wanted.

It was a routine.

Levi tossed the book aside and ruffled his lovers hair, “You know that’s not true brat.”

(Y/n) buried his head into Levi’s stomach and grumbled,

“I was over there naked and you didn’t even glance at me”

“I’m looking at you now”

“Too late, I’m not naked anymore.”

Levi smirked, “you could be.”

(Y/n) raised his head and smirked back at his lover

And just like that, their night was sealed with kisses and moans. Much to the dismay of the other members who were trying to sleep.

...

“Leviiiiiii~”

Levi opened his eyes and looked at his lover who was way too hyper for 8am

Levi grumbled and tried to pull the blankets up over him but (Y/n) was pulling them back

“Come on love, the cadets with be up any minute awaiting their captains orders.”

“Those brats can wait until the rapture for all I care.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned down, kissing his grumpy lovers neck in hopes to coerce them into getting up

“Come on baby, it wouldn’t be good for their captain to be the one running late now would it?”

“Then why don’t you go teach them, captain.”

(Y/n) shook his head with a smile,

“As much as I would love to take a load off your shoulders, it’s not allowed. They’re not my squad and I have lots of paperwork to do today.”

(Y/n) laid another kiss on Levi’s shoulder before getting up and pulling him along with

“Come on, I’ll make you some tea to drink when you’re done yeah?”

Levi sighed but got up, “Fine.”

Once he was ready, he headed out to the training field where he expected to see the brats already lined up and waiting but no one was there.

While he wasn’t late, Levi definitely wasn’t early. There should have been at least some of the brats here.

He inwardly groaned and headed to the bunkers to wake them all up.

‘This is gonna be a long day.’

...

Morning training was terrible.

Nothing went wrong per say, other then them being late, but it was just annoying Levi.

They had a mission TOMORROW and all of them were acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

It pissed Levi off, definitely not a great start to his day.

After ordering the brats to run extra laps for being late, and having Armin supervise, he headed down to (Y/n)’s office for a much needed cuddle.

But he was stopped on the way there by a cadet telling him that Erwin needed him for a meeting.

Levi wanted to just say, “Fuck no.” But he new that if Erwin needed him in the meeting, it must’ve been important.

Hours later and it was lunch. The meeting took way too long, he thought about seeing if (Y/n) was too busy to cuddle but after thinking about it, he concluded that he just wanted to be alone for a bit.

So he skipped lunch and went to his room, picked up his book, and continued where he left off

Not three pages in and a knock echos through the room

Levi contemplates not answering but the possibility of it being an emergency weighed too much for him to ignore

“What is it?”

“Uh sir? I-it’s Armin, um. Eren and Jean are fighting again and no one can get close enough to get them apart.”

Levi damn near threw his book onto the table before he stormed out of the room to handle the situation, nearly running over Armin in the process.

When he got to the lunch room, everyone had left except his squad whom were surrounding Eren and Jean fighting.

They were screaming in each other’s face, talking so fast even Levi couldn’t understand what was going on

And he didn’t care, he was pissed and just wanted some alone time

People backed out of Levi’s way as he stormed over to the two blabbering idiots

He grabbed both of them by their hair and slammed their heads together before throwing them apart

They rubbed their heads in pain, angry at whoever did that until they saw who it was

Seeing it was their captain, they both started trying to come up with an excuse, claiming it was the other who started it but Levi just held up his hand making them pause

Uncomfortable Silence rang through the room before Levi’s cold, menacing tone slithered into their ears.

“You two, clean this mess. The rest of you, to training. Now.”

They all scurried out like rats in a barn, aside from Eren and Jean who scrambled to grab the cleaning supplies and get started.

Levi stormed back to his room, grabbed his book and laid down.

Then another knock, “Sir? It’s time for training.”

‘Fucking hell.’

Part 2 is up

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi x male reader #levi aot

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wheninitalyy · 4 years

Text

France is no escape - part 2.

A/N - Here’s part two!! Wooo!

I’m working mainly on working for readers to feel close with their character and their thoughts, I’m more comfortable writing about conflicts and getting to know characters on personal levels. Sorry if this is a bit rushed toward the end, I had been thinking about writing part two to this ever since I wrote part one, but- uh yeah thank you for reading!

Click here for Part One :]

Pairing : Benny Watts x Reader

Word count : 2749

Warnings : drinking, smoking, (some fluff this time though :] )

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

I threw the blanket that covered me to the side, “And I said- Well, buy me a drink first!” the show’s laugh track played.

“Stupid,” I mumbled as I switched the television off, I peeled my eyes off the television for the first time in a couple hours. I thought being a photographer would make me busy, but it seems impossible to get any good shots when everyone important is hiding away in their rooms.

I left my room earlier to look around, I took a few shots of the hotel and some of the chess tables for inside of the magazine but there wasn’t enough to keep me out and about for longer than an hour.

I needed a drink, something to help me relax or take my mind off the pressure of having absolutely nothing for the magazine. I haven’t even met up with my co-worker who was writing an article for this event, I called the magazine author before I came here but weirdly I haven’t seen them all day.

I threw myself off the couch not wasting anymore time, dusted myself off, making sure I looked somewhat presentable in case I ran into anyone.

I centered my watch on my wrist as I read the time, 5:47 pm.

I had a couple hours to get a drink before the bar filled up with men throwing their money out the window when they lose a 5th game of speed-chess.

I tripped over air as I closed my door behind me, pulling the heel of my shoe on.

I turned a corner and got into an elevator just as a couple exited it, they looked like any other couple whose trip was likely crashed by a bunch of chess players this weekend.

I let out a little ‘whew’ sound as I spotted the bar, get in and get out, no small talk tonight or so I thought.

“One cocktail please,” I told the bartender behind the bar, he nodded and started making my drink immediately.

I pulled off my coat, laying it down on my lap.

It was a nice bar, nothing like the ones back at home I used to go to.

Strings of lights under the tables, lighting up the ground. About four silk covered chairs sat at every table in the restaurant. A few couples or families having dinner and, in the corners, sat some men and their chessboards.

I missed playing chess at dinner, upsetting the waiters as we decided to throw their perfectly set out plates and silverware to the side so we could order our drinks and question every play and move in our games.

I hadn’t been able to have moments like that in a long time. Sure, I get to dance around carefree and smoke in my apartment alone acting as if I owned the world, but eventually you get tired of living that life.

I wanted to live my old life.

I can’t tell you what I would give for one piece of normal in this place, my normal.

“Here you are,” the bartender placed my drink on the bar table in front of me, placing a napkin under the drink to catch the condensation.

I gave him a smile as I caught myself wishing my life different, I need to stop doing that. I’m content and happy here, just lonely.

I put the cup to my lips, wanting to pull back at the simple taste of the sugar around the rim of the frosted glass.

One sip turned into a couple and soon I was done with the whole drink. If I’m being honest- I couldn’t drink another, too sweet. Maybe a beer or something, just one before I go back up to my room.

I turned around to look out on the grand room full of elegant looking lights strung from the ceiling, there was a large window with a glass double door to the right of the room. On the other side of the glass was a simple patio, metal chairs and tables with umbrellas. I could see the end of the sunset from where I sat, a little clearing between the buildings where the sun dropped into the road, I’d like to walk around out there when its light.

Over the time I was sat at the bar, the restaurant filled. Chess players at each table trying to balance their food with their perfectly placed chess pieces and trying not to disrupt the games as they ate.

It was strange but I enjoyed watching them interact and curse when they realized they had lost, its possible that my fascination with watching people play chess is why I got into photography for chess. Catching shots of people deep in thought, not posed, just some strangers playing chess- it’s the best.

I wish I had brought my camera down here.

“Ahem,” a man cleared his throat behind me, I swirled my chair around to him,

“Matt?!” I was shocked to see someone like Matt here of all places, he smiled and pulled me out of my chair and in for a hug before I could protest.

“Hey, my favorite photographer,” he greeted me as he pulled me up off the ground just a bit,

Matt was an older friend, back in high school kind of older friend. I hadn’t seen him in years, longer than most of my friends back in America.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned him as I pulled back, keeping my hands tight on his upper arms,

“I came with Benny believe it or not, I wouldn’t have gotten into some big tournament like this without him,” he laughed as he ruffled my hair, him being taller than me by only a couple inches. “Benny told me he saw you here this morning. I had a feeling you would be down here around this time,” he looked out at the tables.

I smiled at him and exhaled as I looked up at the ceiling, thank you Benny.

“God... I’ve missed you Matt,” I pulled him in for a hug again ignoring all worries about being on the job, because surely I wasn’t on the job at 7 pm.

“Jeez, a little homesick, are we?” he asked me as he patted my back and let out a short laugh.

Matt pulled me off him and sat down at the bar beside me, “What’re you drinking? A beer?” he grabbed my drink and looked at the label.

He got the bartender’s attention easily, “I’ll have what they’re having,” he gave the man a smile.

He turned to me and snickered at my tendency to get lost in my thoughts. He tapped my shoulder to get my attention, “So- what’s new?”

“You know, you got to talk to him. He’s probably up in his room sulking right now,” Matt joked,

I nudged him with my shoulder and let out a huff, “I will, just not tonight,” I told him as I finished my beer.

“Who’s sulking up in their room?” a voice came from behind us; I knew that voice.

I looked over my shoulder to see Benny wearing his Benny Watts smile with the same clothes from earlier today, without the hat this time and his coat hung over his arm.

Nice timing Benny.

“There he is!” Matt greeted him,

Benny flashed me a smile and then gave Matt a hug, I turned back to the bar to gather myself. I heard the Matt insult Benny’s hair and it started a pointless quarrel within the minute, I snorted and ran a hand through my hair.

They had small talk that sounded more like Matt parenting Benny, asking where he was, who he was with and such.

Matt flagged down the bartender for another drink and I picked up my beer and looked through the glass deciding if I was going to have another, but my thoughts were interrupted as Benny threw his arms over my shoulders. He loosely put his hands in each other, a poor excuse for a hug but I wasn’t complaining.

“Hey,” he greeted me leaning his head in near my ear, I felt my body tense up as he spoke so close to my ear.

“Hi Benny,” I said softly putting down the bottle,

“No more Mr. Watts?” he laughed,

“No- that was,” I paused as I laughed shallowly at my stuttering, “No, you’re Benny,” I told him as I looked down at my hands on the table.

I already knew he had his ‘I won’ smile spread across his face.

“And you’re Y/N,” he said softly, his way of forgiving me in a way.

I smiled and put my hand on his, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently.

He had come over here and treated me as if we were friends again, he gave me that feeling I had been craving- feeling normal.

I missed any affectionate he gave me, it was rare in public that he gave more than handshakes and short hugs, but right now I held his hand in mine and I couldn’t be more content with this moment that I had to stop myself from smiling to the point where my cheeks hurt.

I missed Matt and Benny, and even Benny’s friends who would come over on late nights to play speed-chess for me to lose to them, then them losing to Benny. All I had for months on end was work, and days to waste away. I had no one to spend my days with and when I did, the memories lingered for hours divided between days.

This felt right.

Being here with a man I could compare to a puppy and another who used to be my best friend is the most right my life has felt for a while.

I flinched as Matt raised his voice suddenly.

“Alright! Let’s play some chess!” Matt got out of his chair and put a hand on each of our shoulders, we both looked to him.

“The alcohol is kicking in,” I whispered, Benny heard me and lightly nudged me as he smiled.

I smiled and shook my head, this felt right.

“Let’s!” Benny entertained Matt’s excitement, he pulled his arms back and spun me around to let me off the stool.

Matt nearly pull me out of my seat as he tugged us over to one of the only empty dinner tables, it hadn’t even been cleaned yet but clearly, we didn’t care.

I laughed at his eagerness, but I wouldn’t ask him to stop, this was the thing I had been begging for. The thing I was sitting here at the bar alone daydreaming about was happening, its like they heard my thoughts.

Chess had become an important part of my life at an early age, and even more important when I met some chess players during high school. Chess was the go-to to cheer everyone around me up, yet it was also what made so many people around me fall apart or go mad.

I got into photography senior year and couldn’t let go of a camera until, well- never. The world was beautiful when you looked past all the flaws and ruins, even then it was still beautiful with them.

Photography only became who I wanted to be when I met Benny, Benny showed me what it was like to have more than one road to capture memories on. Benny showed me what it was like to take pictures without a camera- to play memories in my head whenever I wanted to.

Benny never forgot anything, so when I met him, I decided I wasn’t going to either.

“Wait- just one more round!” Matt begged trying to redeem himself,

“No, its getting late. You know I have a real tournament to win tomorrow, right?” Benny sighed and kicked him chair back as he stood up,

“Wow, fine,” Matt mumbled a couple swears and turned to another man who was sitting at our table, he didn’t let the man get in a word before he set up the chessboard in front of him.

I snorted and looked up at Benny next to me, “Walk with me?” he asked offering a hand to me. I hesitated at first but grabbed him hand as I stood up, pushing my chair back into the table.

After I said my goodbyes to Matt and made him promise he wouldn’t drink anymore, I followed Benny out to the patio.

A rush of cold air hit me as Benny opened the door in front of us, he held the door open as I walked outside into the cold city-life. You could hear distant chatter on the streets and horns honking every couple seconds.

“Maybe I should move to France too, seems nice,” Benny said quietly, he lit his cigarette. I looked over at him lean against the building wall, “Want one?” he offered me a cigarette as I leaned on the wall next to him.

I looked at the small pack he offered to me, I put the backs of my fingers against my lips for a moment as I tried to resist the urge. I wasn’t a huge fan of cigarettes. Sure, one is nice sometimes, but they just make me feel... bad.

I pulled my hand away from my face and gently grabbed the cigarette out from in-between Benny’s lips, I took a smoke.

“Or steal mine,” he smiled as he reached for another,

“Don’t,” I coughed as I blew out the smoke, handing the cigarette back.

We stayed there awhile, silently listening to the city thrive outside, watching the lights in buildings flick on and off.

“I’m sorry I left,” I whispered just loud enough for Benny to hear,

It had been on my mind all night tonight; I shouldn’t have left him, I needed to leave but I didn’t mean to leave him in the process.

“After my mother passed, I needed to be somewhere new. I needed something new,” I said looking down at my feet,

“Ouch,” Benny laughed shallowly,

“No, not you. You were- are my best friend, you were the best thing in my life, Benny. I didn’t want to leave you nor did I want to ask you to run away to France with me,” I explained, I looked over at him. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as his other fell beside him holding his cigarette in-between his long fingers.

He didn’t respond or say anything for a couple minutes, and why would he? Those were poor excuses for skipping the country.

“I miss you,” he said softly taking another smoke, he threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out under his boot. “It wasn’t fair,” he turned to me.

“I know,” I whispered.

It almost felt like everything went quiet as I waited for him to say something else, anything else.

I wanted some clue on how to go back to not being viewed as someone who ran away from their life scared, I wanted a hint on how I could make him look at me like I didn’t break his heart.

“Y/N,” he pushed himself away from the wall, I looked over at him. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said as he already had started walking.

I walked beside him down the hallway to my room, I hadn’t said anything more than directions on our way here. I was scared to say something, but I had to eventually.

We got to my room, I unlocked my door and turned around as I pushed open my door with my back.

Benny stopped and stared at me; I wish I could know what he was thinking. I wish I could hear his thoughts. He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling, clearly talking himself out of doing something, I do that all the time.

I pulled his arm toward me till I could grab his coat and pull him into a hug, “This is what I meant to do this morning,” I told him. I rested my chin on his shoulder waiting for him to hug me back, he wrapped him arms around me tightly.

“Yeah, it is,”

I shut my door and put my back against it, I slid down until I hit the floor.

I sighed wrapping my arms around my legs, my legs pressed against my chest and I almost sunk into the floor.

Shit.

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

Part Three !

#benny watts #benny watts imagines #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #imagines #thomas brodie-sangster #thomas brodie-sangster imagines

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 3

Female reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Wow, guys. Thanks so much for all your kind words, favorites, reblogs, and follows! I didn't think this fic would do well. But I'm glad I was wrong!

Someone had asked about being added to a tag list for updates. I'm certainly willing to add one! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates. I'll try and make sure I get everyone.

Without further ado, here's the much requested chapter 3!

You didn't sleep worth a damn that night. Not only was your anxiety running wild, but it gave you nightmares of being killed in fights your subconscious conjured up by remembering what Raiden told you about Mortal Kombat.

That… And this wasn't your bed.

You managed to fall asleep early into the morning.

A harsh knock banged on your door. You nearly jumped out of your skin as it woke you. Wide-eyed, you sat straight up in your bed and watched the door as if it was about to attack you.

Another harsh knock startled you. Quickly you got to your feet and answered the door. Kung Lao stood in front of you, an impatient look on his face. A large black, brimmed hat was on his head… was it made of metal? "Put on a gi," he ordered.

Your brows bunched.

One of his brows rose quizzically.

"What?" You said. You could feel how dry your throat was. God, you needed a drink.

Lao inhaled sharply. With a nod he gestured vaguely for you to step back. You did, and he stepped past you to the wooden chest at the foot of your bed. With a swift kick the top swung open. You stepped over to look inside and saw a small selection of clothes, very plain, but similar to Lao's and Liu's that you remembered. There was also a long, simple gown that you guessed was for sleeping. That would have been nice to know about last night. Lao reached in and pulled out a gi. He tossed it on your bed. "That is a gi," he told you, turning his attention back to you. "Put this on, then step outside into the hall. I'm training you this morning."

You brushed a hand through your hair and realized it was a mess. Bed head. Your fingers tried combing out the knots as you looked at him. "When's breakfast?" You asked. Really. Food sounded good. You hardly ate last night.

"After your morning training," Lao said.

"Why after?"

"Because it is. Wake up. Train first. Then breakfast. Then train again. Lunch. Train. Dinner," he listed off. "After dinner you can do whatever you like, but you'd be wise to rest up. You're going to be sore."

Your jaw hurt as it clenched. "Everyday?"

"Everyday."

"Even weekends?"

"Everyday," he repeated sternly.

You almost groaned.

"Unless you'd rather give up and go home?" He mocked.

God, would you. Home sounded great.

But you were needed here. Raiden needed your help to fight Shang Tsung. Sure, you were useless right now. And sure, he gave you a choice to not be involved, but Raiden had been able to paint a very real picture of what Earth would be like if Shang won Mortal Kombat just one more time… Earth would be destroyed. Everything gone. You. Your home. Everyone.

"No," you said. "No, Raiden wants my help… Can't exactly tell a god ‘no.’" Was that defeat in your tone?

"Good. Now change," Lao said as he turned and stepped out of your room, closing the door behind him.

It only took you a minute to get changed. The gi felt strange. You weren’t used to such loose clothing, but you did like that it let your body breathe. Stepping out into the hall, you saw Lao leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked you up and down, then nodded in approval before turning and walking down the hall. You followed, but kept your distance.

“Can I get something to drink?” You decided to ask after a moment of silence.

“We’ll have water there,” He said, glancing back at you.

“Is Liu going to be there?” You asked.

“Already don’t like me?” Lao asked.

“He’s just not an asshole to me,” you quipped, and immediately regretted it as Lao stopped in his tracks. Goosebumps covered your arms and neck.

“I’ve been called worse,” He simply said and continued walking.

A relieved breath escaped you. You saw that going differently in your head. You expected some shouting. But he just… accepted it.

The rest of the walk was in silence as he led you to an open area, sand covering the ground, pillars to the left and right. An array of training dummies and tools were placed around the sand. This was a fighting arena, you realized. And it had a view...

You slowed your pace. Oh no. Not a view. And this one didn’t have any sort of railing. It just dropped off! Oooh fuck this, you thought and stepped back even though the ledge was about a hundred feet away.

“Come here!” Lao called over as he stood in the center of the arena.

You didn’t move. Moving to him would put you closer to the ledge. No way.

But he grew impatient again. His voice raised and it echoed through the ravine. "COME. HERE!"

Those goosebumps came back. Hesitating, you slowly made your way over to him.

"Good. Sit."

You did. Right in the sand. Lao took his hat off and swung it down. You jumped as he made a deep line in the sand not even an inch from you. The sound of metal grating the sand sent a shiver through you.

"This is Lord Raiden’s arena. Each day you will step closer to that ledge," he said, not having to point to it. "You will learn to meditate and control your fear until you can sit on that edge comfortably."

Oh no.

"Are you ready?” He asked.

“No…”

“Good.” It was like he heard you say ‘yes’ instead. You groaned and he slipped his hat back on his head and secured the strap under his chin. “Sit with your legs crossed. Like Buddah.”

You moved your legs, sitting as you knew ‘criss-cross applesauce,’ but Buddah style did sound more mature.

“Close your eyes, straighten your back, and rest your hands on your knees.”

You did, but felt him close in on you, then his hand on your shoulder. Goosebumps again. A knot in your stomach. Grip firm, he pulled you back slightly, straightening you out more. You opened one eye to glance up at him, seeing a focused look to his eyes as he critiqued your posture silently. His eyes then shifted to your open one.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated. That impatient tone returned.

You did. You felt him step away.

“What do you see?”

“What?” Your eyes were closed. You saw nothing! What kind of question was—

“What do you see?”

“Nothing,” You said in annoyance.

“Do you see the ledge?”

You hesitated. “No.”

“It’s about seventy feet away from you.”

Your jaw stiffened.

“The drop is miles deep.”

Your fingers curled into your knees.

“If you'd fall off, you’d die.”

You took a shaky breath as panic began building in the pit of your stomach. That’s when you remembered you didn’t have your anxiety medication here… wherever here was.

“These are facts. There is nothing you can do about them.”

Now came that helpless feeling.

“Relax.”

You couldn’t. The images of the ravine, the ledge, and you falling to your death were flashing in your mind.

“Relax,” Lao repeated and you could feel him come closer again.

“I can’t,” You admitted.

“You can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” Your tone became defiant. You could feel a presence circle you slowly.

“Focus on the sand under you. The wind as it blows around you. My voice. You are not falling. You are sitting on the ground. Safe.”

You tried. You really did. But the ledge had its grip on your attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Freaking out…”

“What are you doing?”

You hesitated. “Sitting in the sand.”

“Are you falling?”

“No.”

“Are you going to fall?”

“No.”

“Breathe.”

You took a hard, deep breath.

“Feel the air fill your lungs then leave as you slowly exhale. Feel your chest expand and contract. Focus on what’s real.”

You took another breath, and did your best to breathe out slowly. It still shook.

“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

You took another breath. You kept taking breaths. You kept trying to focus on the air and your chest, and not the death trap this arena was with an open ledge into the ravine. Would you even feel it when you hit the bottom? Or would you die in mid-fall?

Lao tapped your shoulder. “Focus.” He must have noticed. You weren’t sure how long it’d been. You’d gotten tapped, reminded, and straightened several times. But by now, your breath wasn’t shaking anymore. You could swear your lungs had grown. Your breaths were deeper as you fought to focus. You could even feel the heat of the rising sun kiss your face and arms. Eventually, the ledge faded away from your mind and Kung Lao told you to stop.

“Open your eyes.”

You did. A blue-ish hue tinted the world as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“Relax.”

You let your back slouch again and stretched your fingers out.

“How do you feel?”

“Stiff.” You cracked your knuckles and rolled your shoulders and neck.

“Get up. Stretch.”

You rose to your feet and rubbed your face. Turning around to face him, you stretched your arms behind your head. He was sitting on the steps leading to the sand pit, leaning back against a pillar, very much relaxed as he watched you. You had been out here in the middle of the arena all by yourself. For how long, you weren’t sure. Turning back around, you looked out at the ravine.

“Scared?” Lao asked, not moving from the steps.

Weirdly, not so much. “Not as much…”

“Good. Tomorrow morning you will be a step closer. We’ll do this again.”

“Until I’m out there…” You looked at the very edge and imagined sitting there, knees almost hanging off the ledge, alone… What if a strong wind blew you over? What if he tried to straighten you up but accidentally pushed you? Oh, there was that panic again. You turned away, breath starting to shake again as you hurried towards the safety of the steps.

Lao had watched you. He noticed your breath shake again even from several feet away. You’d almost thrown yourself into another panic. “Breathe,” he coached. “You got a while before you’re there.”

You nodded. He was right. He’d said you were about seventy feet from the edge. If you only took a step closer each day, that meant it was about sixty days away. Give or take. Okay. Two months. Two months sounded do-able. You pulled your shoulders back tight. Your upper spine cracked and popped with tension. You’d feel better once you got away from here.

“Thirsty?”

You looked over to him and he pointed up the stairs. Following his gesture, you found a clay pitcher and cups on a table. You’d forgotten just how thirsty you were, and now your throat felt sore.

After climbing the steps, you poured yourself some water and felt it rush all the way down to your empty stomach.

“You’re horrible at meditation,” Lao said, breaking the silence.

You looked back at him.

He just grinned at you.

You rolled your eyes and turned away. Of course you were horrible at it. It was your first time and you were in the middle of a panic attack. Breakfast. Finally. Lao sat in his usual spot at the table. You sat across from him and looked at the array of food already set out. It was mostly vegetables and proteins… though no actual meat. Right, you thought. Monks. Monks were vegetarians weren’t they? Well… At least there were some eggs. You reached for the simple white rice to start off your plate.

“Take it easy on the rice,” Lao ordered, which made you look up to him with confusion. “Focus on vegetables and protein. You need to get into shape.”

Did he just call you fat? You glared at him, but it did nothing to move the critical look from his face. With an annoyed sigh, you slid some of the rice off your plate and back into the bowl. You looked back to him, as if to ask for some much unwanted approval. He nodded. You then filled your plate with vegetables and poached eggs. You didn’t care much for tofu or beans, so you ignored them.

“I’d kill for some pancakes,” you unknowingly whispered under your breath.

“If you kill Shang Tsung, I’ll get you all the pancakes you want,” Lao said, jarring you.

“Oh... Didn’t mean to say that out loud,” You admitted sheepishly.

“Offer still stands.”

You glanced to him and couldn’t help the grin that pulled your lips. Hearing the door open, your smile faded and you turned to look behind you. Liu Kang had walked in, flushed, face and arms glistening with sweat. He offered you a smile before sitting next to you.

“Good morning,” He said, not wasting time in filling his plate.

“‘Morning,” You greeted and watched him fill his plate with rice and beans. A bit of vegetables.

You looked back to Lao with furrowed brows. How come Liu could eat all the carbs?

Lao noticed your fuss. He pointed his chopsticks at Liu, but looked at you. “He needs the energy.”

Liu, lost, looked up, then to you, then back to Lao.

“I told her to take it easy on the rice,” Lao explained.

“Ah,” Liu nodded. The gentleman that he was, he didn’t comment on your weight, but you felt it. Okay, you weren’t in the best shape. You didn’t have the six or eight packs you figured they had. But you weren’t fat… Right?

You looked down at your stomach, hidden under the baggy gi, and folded an arm over it tightly in a futile effort to hide it.

“Being a nurse, I’d think you’d know about nutrition,” Lao judged, mouth full.

You huffed. You got it. You were fat. Okay. Shut up, Lao. “Being a nurse, I hardly have the time to cook for myself,” You defended.

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to cook here. The monks will. Shouldn’t be an issue anymore. No excuses,” Lao said.

“Yeah… Lucky me,” You said, still annoyed. You began to eat, starting with the vegetables.

Liu, again being the saint he was, had decided to change the subject. “How was morning meditation?”

When you didn’t say anything, Lao answered for you. “Fine.”

That caught you off guard. Fine? He told you you were horrible!

“Really?” Liu’s interest was piqued.

“Her posture needs work, and her mind isn’t yet disciplined enough. But she did fine.”

“That’s great.” Liu looked to you.

You bit your tongue, but couldn’t hold it. “You said I was horrible,” you said to Lao.

Lao grinned and filled his mouth with food.

What was this? A give and take? Or take and give? Tell you you’re horrible, then say you were fine?

“I’m sure he was only kidding,” Liu suggested.

“Was I?” Lao questioned with an inflection, which earned him a stern look from Liu. Lao’s grin only grew.

Liu sighed in accepted defeat. “How did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Awful,” you answered quickly.

“Oh?” Liu frowned.

“Yeah.”

“Anxiety?” Liu asked.

You nodded. “And nightmares. And it wasn’t my bed. Always takes me a while to get used to a new bed.”

“Well, yesterday must have been stressful enough,” Liu reasoned.

“Bit of an understatement,” You mumbled before filling your mouth.

“Did you decide if you were going to stay?”

Lao answered before you could swallow. “She’s staying.”

Liu looked so relieved to hear that, but looked back to you for confirmation. “Is that true?”

You nodded.

A smile came to his face, the smile you liked. So sincere. So real. “Thank you.”

You looked to your food. You didn't feel much like talking anymore as thoughts raced through your mind. Now it was concrete. You were staying. You were crazy, but you were staying. Liu was training you now. This was a different arena. It had a view, but the walls were high enough that you didn’t mind. Still sand on the ground, it looked like a smaller version of the colosseum… but without the thousands of seats surrounding you, and more oblong. A huge statue of Raiden sat off to the side, just outside the arena, in a fighting stance seeming to watch your every move. On the other side, some other statue, ready to fight Raiden. You quickly realised they were two parts of a monument. Some fight that had happened. Who won, you wondered.

“Time to test your might,” Liu said.

“What?” you turned away from the statues to look at him.

“Have you ever had lessons in self defense?”

“Uh. No. Not really. Remember? No experience.”

He nodded and walked over to you. So you were starting at square one. He could handle that. “Try and hit me,” He told you.

“What? No.” You stared at him as if he was crazy.

“The best way to learn is to practice. And the best way for me to gauge just what you can do is for you to try and hit me.”

“I’m not going to hit you, Liu.”

“And what do you intend to do when Mortal Kombat begins?”

Okay. You had to admit. He had you there. You wouldn’t be much use if you couldn’t fight. You sighed in your defeat and looked him over. He took no particular stance. He just stood there, eyes locked on you.

Okay. You could do this. Not like you could hurt him. You doubted you could hit that hard anyway. Without much warning, you swung a fist. Unsurprising, he dodged it easily. You swung again. He dodged. You tried a kick. He blocked. You still weren’t surprised, but after a few more attempts, you were getting annoyed.

“I can’t hit you if you keep moving,” You hissed.

“Do you expect Shang Tsung’s fighters to just stand still and let you hit them?”

Again, he had a point. You kept trying. You kept failing.

“Keep going,” Liu coached gently as he gracefully dodged your futile attacks.

You took turns pushing each other across the sand pit. You would push him to one end, then he would take the offensive, and you would dodge, backing you up to the other end. You knew he wasn’t really trying, he hadn’t even broken a sweat while you were sure you dripping. Eventually you stopped. You walked away and gave him a ‘time-out’ sign as you leaned back against a wall. Heavy breath after heavy breath came out of you. You really were out of shape. Fuck it. You gestured your forfeit vaguely as Liu walked towards you.

“Not bad,” He offered.

A single, exhausted, “Ha!” escaped you. Yeah right. You were awful.

“You’ll get better.”

“Maybe in a hundred years,” you only half joked.

“If you stay determined,” He joked back. It earned him another laugh from you and he smiled in that small victory. “Between myself and Lao, you’ll be in shape within a few months.”

“If you two don’t kill me in the process.” Again, only a half joke.

“I assure you, we will not kill you,” He said, that sincerity in his voice. “However, you may feel as though we have.” That wasn’t a joke.

You groaned. You already felt that. “Can I just go back to meditating? I can handle that.”

“I think you deserve a small rest. We can meditate until your breathing comes down,” He’d accepted and gracefully fell to the sand. His legs went into the Buddah-like position, but instead of his hands on his knees, he held one up as if to pray and the other gripped the prayer beads that hung from his wrist.

You slid down the wall and positioned your legs. Your hands went to your knees, and you leaned on them. Liu didn’t seem to mind that your posture wasn’t correct, and you were thankful for it. You just allowed yourself to relax and closed your eyes.

Alright, you thought. You remembered what Lao had told you only a few hours earlier. Focus on what’s real. The sand. The wind. The air in your lungs. Breathe. And you did. You focused on all of it… Which quickly backfired.

Okay. Focus on one thing. You focused on the air. It was so dry. It was dry earlier too, but you’d forgotten during breakfast. Were you in a desert? The Sahara? Would explain the quietness of the place. And come to think of it, you hadn’t even seen a plane in the sky since you got here. Where did the water you’d been drinking come from? It had to come from somewhere. The ground? Maybe there was a well here. Where? But wait, you had a bathroom in your room. It didn’t have a tub or shower, but the toilet and sink did work. Was there plumbing? There had to be if the sink and toilet worked.

“Your mind is wandering,” Liu said softly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” You answered, keeping your eyes closed. You straightened up. “Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?” He asked curiously.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.”

“Tell me,” he pushed gently.

You breathed a laugh nervously. Well, if he insisted... “Just wondering if there was plumbing in this place.”

Liu didn’t say anything for a good minute, which prompted a knot to build in your stomach. God, you were stupid.

Then you heard a soft laugh. You opened your eyes to see Liu chuckling to himself. That knot melted away along with some tension in your shoulders. You smiled, then shared in the laugh. @miss-nori85

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

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aster-aspera · 3 years

Note

for writing: do what i do (:

just get really emotional and project onto characters. but like. in a fluffy way.

this is my way of telling you to make characters cuddle and love eachother.

maybe anxceit for projection reasons? (although if you take this idea i may overanalyse what you write for virgil...)

Oops, this one got a bit personal, but you did give me permission to project :)

Warnings: Bit of an existential crisis ig? idk tell me if it needs any other warnings

Pairing: (queerplatonic) anxceit

Janus was lying on the floor, watching the rain drip down from steely grey skies as the occasional gust of wind blew through the open window, shuffling the papers on his desk around. It picked up something he had been reading, pressing it against his door before letting it fall to the floor. Janus shivered slightly as the chill ghosted along his arms, caressing him like a lover, like a ghost.

Somewhere outside, the sun emerged from behind the clouds and the sky brightened just slightly, casting the grey world in golden light. The patch of sunlight let in by his window didn’t quite reach him, stopping just at his feet. Something in his chest stirred, tempting him to move and curl up in the light, letting the warmth fill the emptiness in his bones. The flame was snuffed out by the grey stillness in the rest of his body and he continued staring at the raindrops hitting his window, wishing they would wash him away too.

He imagined it, dissolving into the rain, being washed down into the soil and trickling between the rock layers, to eventually end up in a great ocean somewhere, a small drop amongst millions, insignificant in the vastness.

Maybe he needed to get up, do something else than have an existential crisis over rain. Or maybe he could stay here and hope that if he wished it enough, the world would disappear, leaving just him, alone in his room with only the rain for company.

His phone buzzed where it was laying on the ground beside him, jolting him out of his existential crisis. His phone overflowed with messages. People from classes pestering him about work, family asking him why he wasn’t talking to them anymore, friends worried about the fact that he hadn’t replied in days. He cast his hand about clumsily and grabbed his phone, turning off the sound.

He had no idea how long he stayed there, staring up at the heavens and rubbing his fingers along his stinging wrist. It was long enough for the sky to turn dark, the occasional star winking out from behind the clouds. It was long enough for the streetlight to switch on, the orange light illuminating the mist wreathing the streets.

There was a quiet, timid knock on his door and Janus looked up apathetically, brain trying to come up with a way to deal with the fact there was someone in front of his door.

“Janus?” Virgil’s gentle voice called, “I ordered dinner, you coming down?”

Janus felt something wet trace down his cheeks and he furrowed his brow in frustration. He didn’t want Virgil to see him like this. But his body stayed heavy and uncooperative on the floor.

“Janus, love, can I come in please?”

Everything in Janus screamed at him to say yes, to show all his broken, crumbling pieces to Virgil. He wanted someone to hold him, to tell him it would be alright. To tell him the lies in his head were just that.

And the other part, the sensible part, told him to wipe away the tears, to tell Virgil he was perfectly fine. It was selfish, to need Virgil to comfort him. To take his comfort when he could barely offer the same in return.

It seemed he took too long to reply, because Virgil pushed the door open, worry clearly written on his face. His eyes immediately locked onto Janus and the worry softened into concern. He kneeled down next to Janus, took his wrist in his hand and rubbed gentle circles into his skin.

“Bad day?” he asked. Janus just nodded.

“How about you go lie down in bed? This doesn’t look comfortable,” Virgil suggested. Jnaus tugged his hand closer, till Virgil nearly toppled over on top of him. He looked up at him imploringly. “Hugs,” he mumbled.

Virgil sighed, lying down next to Janus so he wouldn’t fall onto him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to Janus’s hair. “So needy,” he murmured and there was no reproach to his voice, just that familiar fondness. Janus felt something warm stir happily in his chest.

His body finally gave in and cooperated as he turned to bury his face in Virgil’s chest, hands gripping his hoodie tightly, almost desperately.

“This would probably be more comfy in bed,” Virgil chuckled. Janus whined plaintively. “Don’t want to move,” he groaned.

“You’re going to have to get up at some point.”

“No,” Janus said decidedly, “I’m just staying here forever. And you’re staying here with me.”

“As much as I would love to, we do have to eat.”

Janus gave him his most serious look. “No.” he said again, trying to hide his fond smile.

“How ‘bout this?” Virgil said, pressing another kiss to his hair, “You go lie down in bed, and I’ll bring up some food, and then once you’ve eaten we can cuddle for as long as you like.”

“Or,” Janus argued, “We could stay here and cuddle.”

“You,” Vigil said, leaning up on his elbow and flicking Janus’s nose lightly, “are absolutely impossible.”

Janus smiled up at him, realizing the sadness that curled up in his bones like a heavy fog had lifted slightly, the bright rays of sunshine that accompanied Virgil breaking through the grey.

“I love you,” Janus said, sudden and soft.

Virgil looked at him with surprise at the words. Then his face softened into the most beautiful smile and Janus wanted nothing more than to hold that smile in his heart, as a memory of the sunlight that chased away the clouds. He brushed the corners of Virgil’s lips with a soft finger.

“I love you too,” Virgil whispered, voice filled with so much love and warmth Janus felt like he was choking on it.

Janus pushed himself up off the ground too, groaning when his back protested. “Maybe the bed would be more comfortable.”

Virgil’s triumphant smirk almost made Janus reconsider the love thing. But then Virgil stood up with him and wrapped his arm around his waist, bumping their hips together playfully and he felt just as besotted as a few moments ago.

Janus sat down in bed and pouted at Virgil as he kissed his forehead, promising he would be back with food in less than a minute.

As soon as Virgil left the room, the grey settled back in and Janus dug his nails into his wrist, the sharp pain helping to drive away the fog. He closed his eyes, sinking into the pillows and straining to hear Virgil in the next room, clattering around in the kitchen.

Virgil reappeared in the doorway, balancing a tray filled with take out containers and two glasses of water, a heat pad tucked under his elbow. He sat down on the bed, placing the tray on the side table and giving it a stern look, as if that would stop it from toppling off the ridiculously small table. He handed the heat pad to Janus.

“Here, your back can’t feel too good after lying on the ground for so long.”

Janus scowled at him but accepted the heat pad, tucking it behind his back and melting into the warmth as it loosened his tense muscles.

Virgil sat as close as he could as they ate, their legs tangled together, their sides pressed into each other. Janus occasionally got an elbow in his gut but it was something he could bear for the sake of getting to sit so close to Virgil.

Once Virgil had put away their empty dishes, Janus took no time pulling him into a hug. He had waited far too long for the cuddles he had been promised. He crawled as close to Virgil as he could get, pressing his face into his chest and basing in the glorious warmth that chased away the cold chill of the rainy day.

Virgil pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and then another to his neck and cheeks. He slid down a bit, settling into the pillows more comfortably and adjusting Janus so his head was resting at his collarbone, his arms circling around his waist.

A warm weight snuggled against Janus’s neck, settling down on Virgil’s chest and Janus looked up with a smile as their cat started purring happily. Virgil scratched her ears gently.

“Next time you’re having a bad day, you know you can always just tell me, right?” Virgil whispered and Janus nodded. “I know,” He whispered as he closed his eyes, every sharp edge softening, melting into a puddle of warmth and contentement.

Janus woke up first the next morning, as he nearly always did, curling up contentedly in the mellow light of the morning, letting sleep soften the morning as he stared at Virgil, lit by the golden rays filtering through the windows they hadn’t bothered to close, hair sticking up in a million different directions, face relaxed and unguarded. The warmth of Virgil curled around him, the quiet of the city this early in the morning, it all threatened to drag Janus back into sleep. He probably would have given into it, if his stomach didn’t take that exact moment to start complaining.

He sighed softly, figuring he might as well take advantage of the situation to do something for Virgil. He carefully peeled Virgil’s arms from where they were tightly wrapped around him, shushing him with a soft kiss when he muttered something in his sleep.

He padded into the kitchen on bare feet, their cat appearing from somewhere and winding between his legs. He bent down to scratch her along her back, smiling as her tail curled around his arm.

He hummed softly under his breath as he searched through the cabinets for the ingredients needed for crepes, mixing the batter from memory, the movements ingrained in his memory. He put on some quiet music as he waited for them to bake, swaying along to the music, his eyes closed and his body relaxed.

Arms wrapped around his waist suddenly, startling him out of his reverie and he smiled as a kiss was placed at the base of his neck, Virgil’s gentle voice rumbling in his ear. “Good morning love,” he said, voice still rough and heavy from sleep.

“Good morning buttercup, I trust you slept well?”

“Mhmm, perfectly, definitely with you there.”

Janus turned to press a kiss to his cheek before going to flip the crepes onto a plate.

“And what did I do to earn this fancy breakfast?” Virgil asked, leaning back against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Can’t I just want to make my boyfriend some crepes?” JAnus said lightly, stacking them on the plate and setting them on the table. “I was mostly just in the mood to bake something, but making you happy is always a plus.”

“You’re so sappy,” Virgil chuckled as he sat down on the floor to pull the cat into his lap. Janus smiled at him as he smothered the cat in affection. “And you say I’m the sappy one.”

Virgil looked up at him, brow furrowed in adorable confusion. “What?”

The cat made a noise of protest and he returned his attention to her. Janus rolled his eyes and finished setting the table. “Once you’re done there, how about you come eat those crepes I so painstakingly made for you?”

Setting the table ended up being redundant, as they curled up on the couch to eat, the cat sandwiched between them and some cartoon Janus wasn’t paying attention to playing on the tv, talking quietly about all sorts of things.

#sanders sides #janus sanders #ts janus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #anxceit #queerplatonic anxceit #tw kissing #tell me if i need to tag something #my writing #tw implied s/h #it's not supposed to be #but im tagging just in case #in this fic janus has a tendency to scratch at his wrist when upset

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Quote

hi! i just recently found ur account and love it💞💞 can i request adam driver x reader and they are dating. reader is a bit younger and he gets jealous over one of her guy friends bc he thinks she deserves someone younger than him. & it ends super fluffy :)

@avengxrs423

Yay, my first request! Thank you so much for the kind words. This was fun to write, I hope you enjoy!

Doubts

Pairing- Adam Driver X FemReader

Summary: Adam has always been aware of the age gap he has with his fiance. He tries to move past it, but a chance meeting with your famous old friend brings the worry crashing back.

Warnings: Language, insecurity, mild smut, paparazzi. WC-2,700

“Mr. Driver, over here! Miss (Y/L/N), this way!” Adam followed you out of the car, thanking the driver, his eyes on you as the crowd of reporters and paparazzi lined either side of the walkway into the restaurant. It was always these sorts of outings, where the press knew he’d be in attendance to a new hot spot, that made him nervous. Wary of how easily you could be accosted, even injured. He was nothing if not protective of you.

Standing closely next to you, Adam places his hand on your lower back, joining you in smiling around for the cameras as you slowly moved forward. His security team had the doors open ahead of you, mere steps away.

“Have you set a date for the wedding yet?”

“Let’s see the ring again, Miss. (Y/L/N)!”

“Mr. Driver, what do you have to say to fans who find the age gap between you to be too much?”

Adam worked actively not to react to the last question, his body tensing. When he looked down at you, he found you were already watching him, the glamorous smile still dazzling everyone, but he read the caution in your eyes. When you were both through the doors and they shut behind you, he began to breathe a little more freely, casting the reporter's rude question out of his mind.

He was taking you on a date and wanted to make sure the evening was special. His publicist had set it up, as this new restaurant was the current ‘place to be and be seen’ in New York City. While Adam could care less, he knew fans everywhere were chomping at the bit to see more of him and you together, in New York especially.

The makeup artist who won the movie star’s heart. It was a major headline when you first started dating publicly, which made you both laugh as Adam had to work to convince you he was interested, in the beginning. Newly engaged now, Adam could see the romance of it, could understand why fans enjoyed the story. But he hated, absolutely despised, how every damn article made sure to mention, directly or not, the age gap between the two of you.

He had had no intention of falling in love with anyone he worked with, he hadn’t been actively seeking-but you had shown up one day one and after one brief conversation, he was smitten. His feelings only grew over the two years you worked together, but he had hesitated greatly in acting on them, solely because you were 10 years younger than him.

When you finally got together, he felt like the luckiest man, that you would love him back, age be damned. You were cautious at first, eventually believing he genuinely wanted to be with you, not just have a fling. He had waited four months into the relationship to make it public (which was no easy feat, but you were supportive through all of it), and of course, the articles started on pointing it out straight away, some going as far as to point out where you were when he was enlisted in the Marines, or graduating Juilliard.

You told him it didn’t matter, repeatedly. And never got mad at him for fixating when a particularly brutal article was released. He had felt guilty many times that you had to comfort and reassure him so consistently, yet it made him love you even harder. And life went on, happily, your relationship solid.

When news broke that he had proposed, the articles started up with renewed fervour. He had been trying to hide from you just how much this upset him, how the doubt was creeping back into his mind...

Tonight was meant to be a sophisticated, romantic evening that served the double purpose of getting Adam press coverage before heading back to L.A. As you were shown to your table by the excited owner, Adam watched you chatting away with her, complimenting their design and success. You wore a beautiful hunter green dress made of satin, it fell to just above your knees and complimented your glowing skin perfectly. He was enraptured by you, whether your wore sweatpants, a dress-and especially when you wore nothing. Green was his favourite colour on you.

At the table reserved for the two of you, Adam helped you take your seat, his hand brushing gently against your hair, before taking his own. Annie and the waiter who had appeared handed you the course descriptions, before asking if you had any dietary needs. “Thank you so much, Annie-honestly just tell the chef we’re game for anything!” You said, grinning. Annie winked before setting off to the kitchen.

Adam nodded politely at the waiter, who took their drink orders, before sweeping away, finally giving him time to study you. “How do you like it?” He gestured around them, at the dark lit, moody and stylish venue. It was busy, filled mainly with notable celebrities, though he hadn’t seen anyone he’d met before. He hoped you liked it, not being one for going out to fancy dinners-you were a homebody, preferring to curl up with a good book.

“Adam, this is great! We haven’t been to a dinner like this in forever, and did you hear what Annie said?” You gushed, beaming, and Adam felt his worries washing away, “13 courses! 13! You’re going to have to carry me out of here, babe.”

“I’m fine with that,” He replied, enjoying the flush that spread across your cheeks. “But let’s be honest, you’re going to end up giving me half your food, pretty girl, you always do.”

You pouted, “I’m making a renewed effort tonight, just wait.”

Adam laughed, and the two of you settled in, the conversation flowing as you discussed the upcoming film Adam was starring in, of which you were working as his artist. The food was, as expected, incredible. Adam loved how you took a photo of each plate, even though neither of you had social media accounts. You still took photos of all the food you ate, just for the fun of it, or as you told him ‘simply to document our adventures!’.

It was around the ninth course that the evening took a turn.

A commotion at the doors captured the attention of some of the patrons. Adam glanced up, but from where your table was, he couldn’t see much. The paparazzi outside were shouting too loudly to decipher what they were saying, so it wasn’t until Adam saw your friend walk in, his brother and friend in tow, that he knew his mood was about to shift.

Tom Holland was one of the first celebrities you had worked with when you started working in L.A. And he’d always kept in touch, even when his own fame skyrocketed and before you were public with Adam. And actually, Adam did like the kid-he was beyond well mannered and genuine, and from the stories you had told, a very considerate friend. Tom’s glowing recommendation of your work was part of the reason Disney had hired you on for the Star Wars films, which was how Adam had met you.

Really, Adam had no reason not to love Tom Holland and be happy to see him arrive with his brother Harry and friend Harrison. It was just the minor, ridiculous concern Adam had that, being close in age, you and Tom were more much suited for one another. A concern that had poisoned his mind for your entire relationship.

Seeing his eyes over your shoulder, you turned to look where Adam had been and exclaimed in delight when you saw your friend. Adam quickly arranged his features to match yours, nerves shooting through him. Tom spotted you when you stood, in all your dazzling beauty, and grinned before making a beeline towards your table. The owner, Annie, had been leading the men to a nearby table and stood back politely while you all greeted one another.

“(Y/N), love! How are you?” Tom gave you a hug, “And Adam, good to see you mate!” Adam took his offered hand, giving a quick handshake. (Y/N) hugged the other two, chatting amicably.

“Good to see you, Tom-hi Harry, Harrison,” Adam greeted the other two before placing his hand on your lower back. Inwardly, he felt more stable in doing this, but he worried it would look possessive. If you thought so, you made no objection, stepping a little closer to his side while you beamed at your friends.

“I didn’t realize you’d be in New York this week, Tom!” You said, smacking his arm playfully.

Tom held his hands up as if in surrender, “It was completely last minute, just stopping off for two days before we head to L.A.” He glanced between the two of you, “I nearly forgot-congratulations again on the engagement! This is the first time I’ve seen you both in person since!”

Adam smiled, “We really appreciated the gift you sent, Tom-that was too kind.” And it had been quite the gift, in addition to a beautiful and extravagant flower arrangement, Tom had made a personal donation to Adam’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces, and shared the charity on his social media. They’d had an influx of new donations from his fans and followers.

“Arts in the Armed Forces is incredibly important to Adam and me, Tom-you really knocked that gift out of the park.” (Y/N) agreed, her arm snaking around Adam’s waist with affection.

Tom waved off their thanks good-naturedly, “Well, we’re going to leave you to what looks very delicious-Annie, I’ll have what Adam and (Y/N) are having!” Tom grinned briefly at the owner, “And we’re still on for lunch when you both come to L.A. Next week, yeah?”

After assuring Tom they’d see him soon and bidding their farewells, Adam and you sat back down, diving back into your food. You chatted happily about bumping into Tom, which quickly transitioned into excitement for returning to L.A., as the cold of January in New York City was getting a little old for you both. You loved it here, were all too happy to call it home when your relationship escalated and Adam asked you to live with him. And though you both spent a lot of time away from your New York brownstone, it was always going to be home.

Adam worked to enjoy the rest of the evening, but he’d rather lost his appetite, the food tasteless on his tongue. Because seeing Tom had brought the wave of insecurity crashing back down on Adam, that you were too good for him, too young, that you deserved someone better, to be with someone who smiled more easily and with whom you shared more in common with. He knew you loved him, but his brain kept asking-did you realize what you could have if you broke up?

When you climbed into the car after dinner, having said warm goodbyes to Tom and his party and touring the kitchen with Annie to thank the chef and his team, Adam’s smile dropped. He sat back in his seat, confirming with the driver that he could take them home, before dropping his head against the headrest and closing the divider between the front and back seats.

“Adam?” Your voice cut through the silence after only a few moments, concern evident in your tone.

Adam glanced down at you next to him, softening when he looked into your wide eyes, “Sorry, sweetheart, what’s up?”

You frowned, turning in your seat to face him more directly, “I want you to tell me what’s up, you’ve been in a funny mood half the night-you okay?”

“I’m alright, just tired-that was a lot of food over a long time.” He shrugged, looking away. For a moment, he thought you were going to leave it at that, but he should have known better; one of the reasons he adored you was your commitment to being the most stubborn person in the room. In an instant, you undid your seatbelt and slid from your seat, carefully climbing over him so that you could straddle his lap, all of his attention now on you.

Adam’s hands went to your hips instinctively to hold you steady, as you glared at him, “Babe, I know you’re not saying it, and I don’t want you to feel forced here, but I thought we’d talked about this.” The car hit a minor bump and you sank into his lap, nearly bumping heads, from the force.

He gripped your hips tighter, “We did, I just...I can’t help it, I feel like-like I’m holding you back.” He murmured with his eyes on your stomach, shame flooding through him.

You sighed, not without affection, “Holding me back from what, exactly? You are my everything, Adam, and without you...I can’t even begin to imagine my life without you.”

You slid your hands from his chest to his neck, where they rested gently, thumbs brushing across the lower half of his jaw. Adam closed his eyes briefly, “But if you did imagine it, properly, you might see that someone like Tom-I mean, he’s your age, goes to more parties and events, you’d have more fun-“

Your mouth was on his, cutting off Adam’s words, his mind going blank. The feel of you against him, your lips on his, was more than enough to render him speechless. After a moment, you pulled back, your cheeks flushed and expression serious, “I understand that sometimes, we notice the age gap a little more because the press thinks it’s interesting, but Adam, I need you to understand. I need you to see just how much I do not care about any of that, what they say or think or even about the actual difference in our ages! I never think about it, because it has no effect whatsoever on how fucking madly in love with you I am.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, holding his gaze.

“I-I love you too, so much, pretty girl,” He sighed, his emotions raw, “I just want the best for you, always.”

“You are the best for me, which is why I said yes to marrying you when you got down on one knee, in our apartment, wearing nothing but those ridiculous shorts. It’s why I’d say yes, again and again, Adam. Do you think I like going to parties? That I don’t have fun with you?” Your voice raised slightly in exasperation, while Adam stared at you in wonder; you’d never been so passionate about this before-despite having had the conversation many times, “I have an adventure every single day with you, I love everything about our lives together, and honestly, babe...” Your voice lowered considerably, a soft breathy croon now, “I can’t picture a guy like Tom treating me how you do, knowing exactly what I need from a man, always taking such good care of me.”

She punctuated these words by grinding against him, her eyes darkening in arousal. Adam groaned at the sensation, “Pretty girl, you’re too good for me.”

(Y/N) smiled at Adam, “No, I’m just right for you and you’re just right for me.”

“Damn it, I love you!” He gasped, before sliding one hand from your hip to the back of your neck and pulling you close, his lips on yours before you could reply. You let out a small whimper, melting into him. Your arms circled around his neck, and Adam could feel the intent in your body, the overwhelming need to send him the message that he was yours, and you-you were his.

“I love you, Adam, forever.” You sighed against his lips, deepening the kiss further.

All thoughts that weren’t of (Y/N) kissing him in the back of their town car, soared from Adam’s mind. His new focus on getting you home, so that he could show you just how much he appreciated your patience and understanding. And as you shivered from his touch, his name on your lips, you successfully and unknowingly convinced Adam his doubts were unwarranted, that you loved him endlessly, as he loved you.

#adam driver x reader #adam Driver x you #adam driver #reader insert #reader x tom holland #fanfic #requests open #requested #fluff #angst

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mooniefics · 3 years

Text

in the grand scheme of things [ 2 ]

pairings : zeke jaeger / reader, referenced eren / reader

word count : 6.2k

tags : unhealthy relationships, relationship discussions, implied cheating, drinking, break ups, eventual smut, praise kink, mutual infidelity, dubious morality, love triangles

warnings : contains nsfw, rlly toxic behavior

summary : you and eren hadn't been doing the best these past few months, and no one that you knew seemed to have any answers for you, or pointers in the right direction. who better to offer you some sound, insightful relationship advice than his older brother. or so you thought.

— originally posted 1 / 25 / 21 on ao3 —

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you were already halfway back to campus before you noticed your phone was missing.

you'd completely forgotten about your desire to message sasha after you stepped out of the shower, taking a good, long look at your naked body in the steamed mirror. starting from your shoulder and ending around your sternum, your skin was scattered with deep marks that you were sure would be printed onto your skin for the rest of the week, maybe even some of the next, seeing as the worst of them were accompanied by the faint bordering of teeth. you wanted to be embarrassed, ashamed, anything that showed the slightest bit of maturity on your end, but you couldn't deny the feeling like you'd gotten a weight off your chest, like you'd reclaimed your emotional freedom by getting the chance to cry it out—and get it fucked out of you, too.

the only concern you held was whether eren would ever know. zeke didn't seem like the type to kiss and tell, he was laidback and easy-going enough to let you come in his home, drown away your sorrows in his alcohol, rightfully take your side despite your weak, albeit still there, insistence for him to take the middle ground and not feel angered on your behalf. plus, you didn't really know how to broach the topic of "can you please refrain from mentioning to your younger brother that you fucked me" without completely embarrassing yourself, but your dirty little secret felt safe with him.

you didn't know exactly how you'd make it up to him, you'd have to figure out some way that was feasible for a broke college student such as yourself. although, he was making it incredibly difficult to chart this incident off as a one and done sort of endeavor when you exited the bathroom just to find your clothes, cleaned and freshly dried, neatly folded on the bed, and the ibuprofen you'd requested with a glass of water waiting for you on the adjacent nightstand. zeke was being nice—a little too nice—but you couldn't help but feel your heart skip at his apparent concern. perhaps it was because you'd been emotionally neglected for a while, or maybe it was because zeke was an impossibly attractive older man who you wouldn't think would ever give you the time of day, or maybe a combination of both.

whatever it was, you allowed that stupid, giddy smile to stay on your lips as you tugged on your clothes, gulping down the two pills, mouth uncomfortably dry until you'd finished off the entire glass in one go. you chatted with him over your plate of eggs, noting that he'd changed out his sweatpants for a much smarter pair of dark trousers, white button up ironed and pristine, brown corduroy coat in one hand and mug of coffee in the other. you quickly finished up, noting the way he kept checking the expensive looking silver watch that fit perfectly over his wrist, accentuating the fine contour of his large hands.

you couldn't say that you were thrilled by the butterflies still fluttering about in your stomach, not at all made any better when he'd once again made an attentive offer to you. "it's kinda chilly out, the jacket you brought isn't really all that suited for the weather today.. wanna borrow one of mine?"

and so you left that morning wrapped up in a leather bomber jacket that was a size or two too big, having to stop yourself from breathing in the wonderful scent of his cologne still lingering on the collar as he walked you out of his apartment, so distracted that you hadn't even bothered to check if you had all your belongings in your purse until something reminded you of your desire to message your roommate.

you'd been driving past one of the shopping plazas you frequented when you had enough time—and money—to spare, catching sight of the many drive-thru restaurants open and quickly thinking of sasha. you owed her a bit of an apology for ditching out on her last night, especially after you'd assured her you would be back in time to watch the new episode of her favorite show when it premiered, but when you'd dug your hand into your purse to reach for your phone, you came up empty.

"fuck." you muttered to yourself, turning into one of her favorite restaurants anyways to get her something.

you didn't exactly have any phone numbers memorized aside from your mother's, you didn't really think anybody did these days, and it wasn't like you could go back and wait the entire day for him to get home. so you settled on roughing it until then, hoping that it'd just fallen out onto the floor of his apartment rather than in the parking lot of his complex where it could be stepped on, run over, stolen—any myriad of things that would assure your phone-less-ness for an irritatingly long time.

by the time you made it back to campus and up to your dorm, sasha was already awake enough to immediately pounce you at the site of the paper bag in your hand, nearly crying with gratitude as she unwrapped her double-patty burger, with extra cheese, as you'd remembered her emphasizing the first time you'd watched her place her order, and two large fries on the side.

"an' yuu ev'n rem'ber'd muh ord'r!!" she spoke around large bites, practically halfway done with it before she properly swallowed. you'd never met a girl who could eat like sasha could eat.

"it was the least i could do after completely ditching out last night." you said as you settled down on your bed with a sigh, shedding zeke's jacket.

"don't sweat it, i invited meeks over so i wasn't completely alone." she assured, then froze, glancing nervously at you like she expected you to be angry.

you weren't entirely thrilled with the fact that your roommate happened to become great friends with mikasa, but it wasn't your place to tell her to stop hanging out with her for the sake of some stupid rivalry over the boy. although, the situation had changed. she'd technically "won" at the end of the day, if she considered such foul play as a win, so you guessed that there really wasn't anymore reasons for tense silences and unnecessarily aggressive glares to be exchanged any longer.

"i'm glad you had fun last night," your smile seemed to ease sasha as she bit into a handful of fries, "even if i couldn't make it."

"so what happened? you went over to talk with one of eren's other friends right?"

you'd told sasha you'd been going over to see someone who knew eren, not exactly bringing in the detail that the said individual was his brother, but it was technically true. the blurry memory of last night flashed through your head, his lazy grins, full lips kissing and nipping over your skin, fingers and cock spreading you open so perfectly for him—

"i-it was nothing..! just got kind of carried away drinking, and he was nice enough to let me crash on the couch for the night."

oh, he let you do something on his couch alright. you hoped your face wasn't incriminating you as her gaze flickered down to the jacket.

"let you borrow his jacket too?" you nodded a bit too quickly, earning a crooked, teasing smile from the girl. "anyways.. what's the consensus? figure out anything new?"

that his best friend you hung out with last night and him cheated on me. "just talked about basic stuff, nothing's really set in stone yet, still mulling it over."

she nodded, already done with her burger and working through the first carton of fries. "did you have your phone on silent? i was worried you got kidnapped or something."

you chuckled through your nose, wandering over to your dresser as you began to unbutton your blouse, jerking to a pause when you remembered the very damning evidence of your own infidelity last night. "don't laugh, ok? i had my phone on silent, we ate dinner and drank, then i passed out, and i guess it fell out of my purse or something, because it wasn't in there when i went to text you if you wanted anything to eat."

"and you still got me something.. you're an angel." you rolled your eyes at sasha's wide, adoring gaze, laughing at the fact that the food took priority over your missing phone, "do you remember the guy's number..?" she wracked her brain for a moment before smacking around her mattress, tapping into her phone, "oh! i got it! he's one of eren's friends, right? if that's the case, mikasa'll have his number for sure."

you felt your back stiffen up, biting at the inside of your lip as you floundered for an excuse. "o-oh no, i wouldn't wanna bother her.. you know we're not on great terms, what happens if she asks why you need his number?" sasha's disgruntled frown encouraged you. "if she hears that you're only getting it for me, she probably won't give it to you."

"come on, she's not that bad." you shot her a look as you pulled a set of clean clothes out of your dresser drawers, opting to change in the closet, "alright fine... maybe she is that bad sometimes. but it's not like you killed her dog or something, and plus you're, like, her best friend's girlfriend-"

"for now." you interrupted, shutting the door and putting a barrier between you and your roommate's prying eyes, "and we barely even act like a couple anymore."

"for now." sasha repeated mockingly, mouth obviously full of fries, "but anyways, i'm sure she'll do this teeny favor for you—especially if i'm asking—so c'mon, give me a name!"

you tugged the long-sleeved sweatshirt over your head, checking yourself on the mirror hanging onto the back of the door to make sure you were entirely covered. "no, sasha. she already doesn't like me enough as it is, no need for us to interact and antagonize each other even more."

you walked out after pulling on your pair of athletic shorts, loose and comfortable around your slightly sore legs, laughing softly when she stuck her tongue out at you. "fine. be like that. keep secrets from your best friend in the whole wide world."

"ha-ha." you enunciated wryly, sitting back down onto your mattress and pulling your laptop from beneath your pillow. clicking through your itinerary for the coming weeks, you internally groaned. ironic how being a psych major could make you need a psychologist yourself.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your password had been woefully easy to guess.

he'd tried the classic 1-2-3-4, almost thankful when the text at the top of the screen prompted him to enter a different combination, but a slight disappointment came when he tried your birthday and the phone opened without a problem. he'd at least expected to get locked out for a minute or two, but there he was, scrolling with free reign through your inordinate amount of apps at his seat.

he had plenty of time to laze around, seeing as the library didn't have many patrons at the moment, plus the elevated desk concealed the fact that he wasn't truly doing anything from the average passer-by. the sense of power he felt almost made him smile. these days, everybody had everything on their phones, and it made him wonder what secrets you could be hiding in this little device of yours. it was a few generations behind, not that he expected the latest and greatest from a college freshman, but still mostly intact with a obviously aged case, a few dents here, a scratch in the metal there, small cracks webbing from the corners of the screen protector, but all and all it functioned perfectly fine.

he was tempted to snoop further—maybe scroll through your contacts list to see if you had any mutuals he didn't know about, check to see if you actually cleared your browser history or just left out all your dirty laundry for anyone who tapped into your search engine to find—but he maintained some semblance of self-control, opening up your messages app and checking to see what his brother had said.

eren <3 10:53 am hey babe where are you right now

you missed a call from eren <3 (2)

eren <3 10:57 am i know we haven't gotten a chance to talk lately but please pick up

you missed a call from eren <3

eren <3 10:58 am youre making me nervous pick up

you missed a call from eren <3 (3)

zeke couldn't help but chuckle at his younger brother's emotional incompetence. your last message had been days ago, and from scrolling back in the texts he could see how you were attempting to initiate a majority of the conversation, and the sparse replies here and there from eren were nothing short of pathetically uninterested.

zeke pitied you—the desperate, doting, undeniably adorable college girl who wanted nothing more than to make eren happy—his brother didn't deserve such devotion. even if he wasn't truly sure if eren had really cheated on you, what he was sure about was the fact that this relationship was entirely weighed against your favor.

eren <3 11:03 am fuck i know i fucked up but i didntnfucking deserve that please tell me that wasnt you fuck please fuckign pick up i love you

you missed a call from eren <3 (4)

eren <3 11:08 am did you seriously fucking shut your phone off what the fcuk

eren <3 11:10 am you know what me and armin are coming back next week we'll talk then.

that's right, he'd gone out of the country with that scrawny little blonde kid that always flinched when zeke intruded on eren's hangouts, probably on his dad's dime too. zeke scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he tapped through your text conversation, quickly finding the "delete messages?" prompt and selecting all evidence of eren's one-sided correspondence, tapping the bright red "delete all" button at the bottom of the screen, and finally blocking his number just for good measure. all your old chats were still there, and he was sure that you'd gotten used to eren not messaging anyways, meaning he wouldn't have to worry about him reaching out to you for the time being.

slipping your phone back into his pocket with a sigh, he could feel that warm, smug feeling bubbling up in his chest. he knew he was only postponing the inevitable, that you'd find out the whole, horrible truth eventually, but it was almost fun to dance around the consequences like he was doing so right now. you were fun to play with, unassuming and prim one moment and brazenly shameless the next. there were layers to you, hidden bits that he was sure that he could coax you into revealing to him, slowly but surely bare your raw, unconcealed essence.

his thoughts were interrupted by someone at the counter, a girl who looked about your age with a shirt that was far too low for the way she was leaning toward him, pushing forward her library card with a single dainty finger and setting down a small stack of books. and somehow, he was thinking about you again as he flashed a charming smile that had convinced many other women before into getting a library card of their own.

that was the difference between you and everyone else, you didn't throw yourself at him, you didn't so blatantly vie for his attention, but instead silently appealed for it with your shy glances, small shifts in your posture when he drew near, and all those pretty little sounds that he could earn with a few gentle touches in just the right place. he could feel himself stirring in his pants just thinking about last night, glad that he'd made such a good first impression on you as he swiped the girl's card and scanned her books under the sensor next to the computer.

"all set for the next two weeks." he offered a small grin, passing back her things.

"thank you," she paused, making a show of dragging her eyes down from his face to the name tag pinned over his bicep, "zeke. i'll see you then."

she bit her lip as she stepped away from the counter, sauntering away towards the door with an obvious excitement. easier girls always held a place in zeke's heart, but there was nothing like the thrill of the chase that he found in you.

he heard the quiet swoosh of the automatic doors sliding open, glancing over absentmindedly to check out the newest patron. but he felt himself perk up in his seat at the sight of you, large canvas book bag hanging off your shoulder and, much to zeke's delight, still wearing his jacket. it took you a moment to notice him, but the change in your features enthralled him nonetheless, going from bored and almost tired-looking to surprised, then flustered as you froze, wide eyes trained on him. he chuckled to himself, nodding his head at you, almost beckoning you to come, and the self-satisfied smirk that drew across his lips was impossible to contain when you actually began your quick advance up to the counter.

"z-zeke, hi. i didn't know you worked here.."

"and i didn't know you came here." he rolled his chair closer, "i thought i would've seen you around by now."

"i usually go to the library on campus, but," the way you peered around, almost looking nervous to gaze directly at him, was strangely endearing to zeke, "i was just kinda looking for a change of scenery."

"fair enough." he said, remembering the weight of your phone in his pocket, "oh yeah, i'm glad you're here. my roommate called me earlier, said he found your phone on the floor back at the apartment."

you leaned forward at the mention of your phone—the complete lie he'd come up with just now—lips parted in surprise. it looked a lot like the expression he'd envisioned when he had his arms around you last night, pressing teasing kisses over your warm skin, but zeke held off on that thought for the moment.

"ah, i almost forgot about that..! well i'm glad it was that rather than it getting stolen or something.."

he checked his watch, very cognizant of your expectant gaze falling onto him the second he took his eyes off you. "i get off for lunch in about half an hour, if it's not too much trouble we can swing by my place, then i can bring you back here, maybe get you some lunch?"

you flushed brilliantly at that, barely containing your almost giddy smile as you nodded. "yeah thanks, that'd be really great actually! but you don't have to worry about getting me lunch.. i already owe you for dinner last night."

just dinner?, he thought, internally smirking, but he kept it to himself. "don't worry your pretty little head about it," your flustered reactions were addictive, "just go have a seat over in the working area and i'll come find you after i clock out."

you nodded, offering another small "thank you" before you obediently turned to traverse the scattered expanse of tables on the library floor and find yourself a spot to sit. the next thirty minutes felt unnecessarily long for zeke. he'd answered a few phone calls, worked through recording the stack of books he'd recovered from the "returned" box when he clocked in for his shift, but ended up giving into the temptation of shelving them himself instead of handing them off to the page to sneak a glance at you.

you'd settled at a long table nestled between the large shelves, entirely alone aside from another college student that zeke recognized from the frequency of his visits, but the modest amount of seats separating you let him know that you were strangers. you didn't seem to notice him when he drifted by, headphones in, entirely focused on your open laptop in front of you, jacket now zipped up halfway. he'd forgotten how cold the library was, mostly used to it after having worked there for nearly a year, not lingering in the aisle for too long before he finished up putting away the last of the books remaining in his arms and returning to the front.

"willy, i'm clocking out for lunch, can you watch the desk?" he called out when he caught the man emerging from the back.

"yeah, yeah, i've got you. but actually come back on time, alright?" he said, tying up his long blonde hair into a messy ponytail, "magath got on my ass last time i covered for you when you were late."

"can i make it up to you with some coffee?" zeke offered, grinning when his coworker grunted affirmatively, "text me your order, i'll get it to you on my way back."

and with that, he logged out of his account on the work desktop and left the chair for willy to sit in, wandering back out onto the floor to circle back around to where you were sitting.

he alerted you of his presence with a hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you. "ready to go?"

you nodded, quickly packing your things away into your bag and following him out of the library doors to his car. he opened the passenger door for you just to see that cute smile that always seem to draw across your lips when he did something you liked, slipping into the drivers' seat and syncing his phone to the car before he pulled out of the parking lot.

"the smiths, huh?" you mused from beside him as "heaven knows i'm miserable now" played across the radio's screen.

"you still listen to them?" he asked, remembering when he'd seen you in his parents' kitchen in their merchandise.

"sometimes." you replied, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

"a little cold to be wearing a skirt, don't you think?"

"what? it's cute, isn't it?" you protested, prompting him to reach over the console with one hand to give the exposed skin of your thigh a few affectionate pats as he laughed softly.

"it is cute."

you fell quiet after that, obviously pleased with his attention but clamming up with that endearing introversion once again. he was content with watching you nod along to his playlist, smiling to yourself when something you recognized came up in the queue. the ride to his complex was short, and the walk up the staircase was silent, but he could feel your eyes lingering over him as you followed behind him, just as they had flickered over to glance at him when you thought he was focused on the road ahead. something about those tiny looks, shy smiles, the face of someone sheepish yet eager to please, it set zeke on fire.

he knew that he shouldn't be bringing you back to the apartment again, but he also knew that he had just about an hour to kill, and reiner was occupied with his own job and away once again, and you really did look great in that skirt and his jacket—

"give me a sec, i'm pretty sure my roommate put it in his room," zeke said, nodding over to the short hall across from the kitchen, knowing he couldn't just pull your phone out of your pocket right here and give it to you, "feel free to check the fridge if you're thirsty or something."

you gave an affirmative hum, wandering toward the kitchen as he turned to enter reiner's room. he was sure that his friend would throw a fit if he figured out he was in his room without his permission, seeing as he was such a stickler for personal privacy, but he wouldn't have to know, zeke was good a keeping secrets. or at least that's what he liked to tell himself, that he was good at lying and sneaking around and pretending like he wasn't bothered by things that made his blood boil, eren being a prime example of such a thing. nineteen years, and somehow in all that time he'd never matured past the age of twelve.

zeke rolled his eyes at the thought, pulling your phone out and wiping away his finger prints on the front of his shirt. the notifications from your assumed roommate were still on the lock screen, joined by a few more miscellaneous ones from earlier in the day, looking entirely untouched for the hours that it had been out of your possession. that lack of accountability he held for essentially stealing your phone eased him a bit as he ventured back out into the main space.

but he couldn't help the burning desire he felt for you when he saw you seated on the island in the kitchen, open water bottle in your hand, peering at him excitedly in expectance of your phone, jacket now hanging off of you from the warmth of the apartment. you didn't shy away like he thought you might as he approached, simply screwing the cap back on the bottle and straightened up your posture, hand outstretched with a smile on your face.

"here you are." he said, sliding your phone into your hand, legs nearly bumping yours from how close he was.

"thank you." you murmured in reply, turning it on for a quick check of your notifications just for your eyes to gravitate right back over to him.

there was something intoxicating about the way you gazed at him, with a meek yet faintly awe-struck look that always seemed to stroke his ego in just the right place. he usually liked confident women, who were well-aware of their beauty and prowess, but there was something about the way you hid yourself away, only showing what you felt necessary but still caving when he peeled away the layers concealing yourself one by one. you weren't desperate initially, not exactly standoffish either, just the perfect balance of reserved and alluring to draw him along after you. especially how you didn't seem to shy away from a challenge such as himself, despite how easy you were to fluster.

he checked his watch before he spoke, his voice low and full of intention. "we've still got about forty minutes before i have to get back." you licked your lips, eyebrows cinching upward just the slightest bit, head unconsciously tilting upwards towards his. though the height of the counter closed an inch or two of distance between the two of you, he still stood taller than you, pressing forward the smallest bit, able to feel your soft breaths fanning over his cheek. "so, what do you say..?"

you didn't speak, only giving a small nod, and that was all it took for zeke to close the space that was barely there between you, lips melding easily over your own. you let out a small sound of surprise, sending a jolt of heat straight through him, determined to make it happen again. your hands grasped at the front of his shirt, clenching at the fabric when his own rose to grip your thighs, spreading them to accommodate his presence and urge himself even closer to you. the feeling of your bare skin, pliant flesh that his fingers sunk so easily into, the knowledge that the only thing keeping him from you was your underwear under your skirt, was enough to make him even more impatient than he already was.

"didn't get enough last night, huh?" he breathed into your ear after he'd pulled away, grinning at the sight of your shaking head and your whispered "n-no".

he maintained enough control to not mark the skin exposed by your shirt when he reached it, but still nipped with enough pressure to pull more little moans that made his cock ache in the constraints of his pants. you didn't protest when the hands on your thighs slid further inward, gasping softly when he let a finger slowly stroke over your clothed cunt.

"and i've barely even touched you.. naughty girl." the way you bristled at his shameless words was endlessly enthralling to him, "already so needy for me..."

you squirmed as he palmed you through your underwear, attempting to speak, but your words always stammered off into an incoherent whimper, hips already rutting up as subtly as they could manage into his hand. "p-please, zeke. i w-want.."

"what do you want?" he pulled away from your neck, hazy, low-lidded eyes gazing directly into your own, "want my fingers in that little pussy of yours?"

you flushed brilliantly at his crassness, but nodded all the same, following up with a whimpered "yes, please..!"

you were begging with your mouth and eyes and he'd only just started, the fact that you were so eager from just the slightest touches made him impossibly hard. he lowered himself to his knees as quickly as he could, letting your heels rest on his shoulders to push yourself up off the counter long enough for him to peel your underwear off of you, sucking air between your teeth when you lowered your bare skin back down onto the cool granite.

he loved how compliant you were, how you let him adjust your position as he pleased, balancing yourself on one hand after he'd settled you on the edge of the island. he made sure to admire the way your face shifted when he ran a finger across your slick skin, thumb drawing across your clit to tease you for just a moment before he slid one finger into you.

"fuck.." he muttered to himself, admiring how you just barely arched toward him when he curled it inside you, retracting his hand and pushing in with a second finger.

he was sure that he could watch you all day, spread out on the kitchen counter, bottom lip reddening from being bitten so firmly between your teeth, eyes glassy and completely fogged over with lust. but he knew that he only had this single hour, regretting offering willy his promise of apology coffee, but deciding to take care of what he'd started and still having time to spare.

plucking his glasses from his nose, he set them on the counter beside your phone, pressing a lingering kiss over one of the thighs beside his head as a silent way to let you know his intentions, pleased to see nothing but anticipation etched across your flushed features as he proceeded. his first lick was intentionally slow, savoring the full body tremble you gave and the flavor of you on his tongue, grasp on your flank fastening to hold you apart while he continued.

he groaned at the hand that shakily clenched in his hair, the one clasped over your mouth doing little to contain the whines and baseless pleas spilling from your lips. zeke was certain his neighbors hated him by now, but he could honestly care less about such a menial detail like that when it was you moaning loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall, solely because of him. and a part of him had to wonder if eren had ever been able to satisfy you the way he had last night—the way he was now—if he'd ever gotten to fully explore and appreciate all the little things you had to offer. his younger brother was juvenile at best in his eyes, and, as far as he knew, entirely inexperienced until he began dating you. but zeke didn't mind showing up the kid, especially not when you deserved to feel as good as he made you feel. after all, he still had just about a week until ramifications were entirely inescapable, he could keep having fun with you for those couple days at the very least.

he pushed the more complicated thoughts from the forefront of his mind, choosing instead to focus on you in front of him, eyes low-lidded and unfocused, now biting onto one of your knuckles, hips rolling into his mouth and fingers in an obvious chase for your release. he rolled his tongue across your clit in quick, ruthless strokes, grinning against you when you whined, eyes rolling back into your head as it felt back toward the ceiling, your hold in his hair almost painfully tight. he could feel the tell-tale stiffen of your muscles, curling his fingers to rub at that part that seemed to drive you wild, catching the stammered end of his name on your lips as you came.

even from his place on the ground, he could see how your chest heaved, legs still quivering, wearing an almost dazed expression until you'd blinked away the fogginess in your eyes. your sheepishness returned when you watched him lick his lips, still slick with your arousal, whimpering softly at the departure of his fingers. he adjusted himself in his pants before stepped away, allowing you to recollect yourself while he proceeded over to the kitchen sink, washing his hands and patting away the remaining stickiness from his chin with the paper towel he used to dry them, watching with a close-lipped grin as you slowly lowered yourself back onto the ground and pulled up your underwear.

he checked his watch after he'd situated his glasses onto his face, frowning. only the better part of twenty minutes left in his break. "ready to get going?" he asked, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back down, his casual tone seeming to ease you.

"mhm." you replied, straightening out your clothes and beginning to shrug his jacket back onto your shoulders before you glanced over at him, "do you want this back? i didn't mean to steal it from you.."

"keep it." he said, plucking his keys from his pocket and proceeding towards the door, "it looks good on you." he didn't even have to look back at you to know that you were smiling.

the car ride was once again mostly silent, seeing as you were tapping through your phone and looking at everything you'd missed in the time you were away from it. but when he'd pulled into the starbuck drive-thru to get willy his unnecessary complicated order and turned to ask if you wanted anything, he caught you looking at your text conversation with eren before you shut your phone off and asked for a chai latte and a butter croissant, and he felt an odd twinge in his chest as he delivered your request and his own of an unsweetened cold brew to the speaker beside his rolled down window.

was it irritation? jealousy? possessiveness? for the first time in a while, he was unsure of how he felt. it was a bit unnerving, but also fascinating all at once. he could've never expected this sort of outcome from the situation, but it wasn't entirely unwelcoming. now that he thought about it, his life had been a bit dull lately, a cyclical routine of attending his job, going out for drinks on tuesday, the occasional sexual conquest here and there with women he met but never remembered, but your call had been a break in the routine, an expected opportunity that he was determined to not let slip through his fingers. and while he would've probably just been satisfied with allowing your name to join all the others in the blurry recesses of his memory at first, he knew now that there was much more for him to discover.

so he let you finish up the lunch he'd gotten you, turning up the radio and escorting you back to the library, feeling far too satisfied with himself as he watched you disappear between the shelves, proceeding back behind the desk and setting willy's coffee down beside him. "don't get up yet, i have to piss."

he groaned frustratedly at that. "why didn't you fucking do that on your break, you ass."

"i got your coffee in the drive-thru." zeke replied absentmindedly, already stalking off to the staff bathroom in the back with the thought of you on the counter playing over and over in his head.

only after locking the door and settling on the toilet did he finally let out a heavy sigh, tapping into his camera roll and quickly finding his picture of you from this morning. just the sight of your half-exposed body made his pants feel tight once again, and he regretted not taking more photos when he had the chance, but this would be enough for now, especially with the memory of you begging for him not even an hour ago fresh on his mind.

he didn't feel any sort of shame as he unzipped his pants and pulled himself out of his boxers, the tip of his cock already slick with pre, ready for the release he'd denied himself for the sake of time—and your satisfaction, of course—the release he'd be granting himself right now, with you just a couple meters away, entirely unaware that it was all because of you.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ: *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:*

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#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x you #zeke jaeger x reader #snk zeke #zeke jaeger smut #zeke yeager smut #snk x reader #snk x you #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x reader smut #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #m.nsfw

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Meet me at the horizon

Damian has spent nearly three hours inside the meeting room of one of the biggest companies of the Eastern Coast, Wayne Enterprises, the silence was strong after several hours discussing the approval of new projects, majority of them Proposed by Timothy Drake. Tim was a genius in Computer Engineering and Technologies, currently working with Lucious Fox. He just graduated and was already making money developing enterprise digital assistance apps and what not for the company. Unfortunately the silence lasted less than two deep breaths as the board directors, shareholders, his siblings and even his own father were exchanging goodbyes and handshakes, scheduling the next meeting already. His father had promised to take Helena shopping with Selina. His adoptive siblings stayed in the meeting room, deciding to have a much-deserved break, to catch up with their daily activities.

Damian frowned unconsciously, his head was throbbing with the surge of scenes in his head. The scenes he was so used to see in his dreams for the last nine months, but the last three months have been assaulting him any moment of the day, especially close to his eldest brother Richard. The meeting seemed to have opened a door to these dreams and this talk about opening an office in Jump city was making it worse. Jump City. He had the vague sensation he’d been there before...

Tim, Richard and Duke seemed to be too busy speaking about the next big game of Gotham Knights, the hockey team, to notice his troubled expression. They mumbled something about asking Jason to slow down from his intense sportbike racer life and watch the game all together. Damian didn’t bother listening to the rest, he was attacked by images of that younger version of himself in some kind of flashy vigilante costume fighting criminals.

“We should go to the game this weekend. The girl I’m seeing now, Kori said she was interested in learning about traditional sports. She’s been in Gotham for six months now. She’s very enthusiastic about cultural learning.” Richard suggested with a wide smile to his siblings completely excited. Eyes like wildfire lit with the spark of life. He hadn’t met Dick’s girlfriend but he looked happier than he’s ever seen him in years.

“Are you joining, D or you’ve got a date?” Duke asked with a teasing tone in his sardonic voice.

Damian did not retribute the smile his adoptive brother gave him, trying to mask his still throbbing head. He looked at him, threatening gaze was a subtle warning. He didn’t know why this was happening that day, but the talk about Jump City and Dick’s new girlfriend were just bringing more of those images. Most of them weren’t good ones. Gory, brutal, bloody. He liked more the ones that seemed to joyful. The ones with that girl.

“He barely seem to have time to meet someone. He’s a workaholic.” it was Tim who answered with an amused smile on his lips, masking an exhausted mien.

“At this pace he’s close enough to become a celibate monk.” Duke joked elbowing Tim lightly, who laughed in response.

“I tried to set him up with some girls, but I almost end up with a broken jaw.” Dick shrugged slightly as he told them with details how Damian had turned down Kara Danvers, Tim’s girlfriend’s best friend. Admittedly she was a nice-looking woman but not the one he desired.

Damian decided to ignore the moronic comments about his love life from his siblings.

Storming out of the meeting room without uttering a single word. They knew nothing about his romantic life. Tsk. A breath of fresh is what he required, lost in consuming thoughts about the girl.

People form the company knew him as the extremely professional boss that run his department with an almost iron fist, he was fair though, accepting the situation of people that worked under him, but he didn’t accept people trying to take advantages or lacking in his services. And he was indeed workaholic.

The media knew him as the ‘Ice Prince of Gotham’, the young heir that was always looking serious, with a cold aura around him, with no type of relationships or scandals so far. He didn’t have the bad boy aura like Jason, ‘chicks’ seemed to dig it as Duke would crudely express. He appeared distant of people out of his inner circle. However, women followed him like bees to flowers in order to collect nectar.

It was just his Wayne charm he couldn’t turn off, regardless of the situation. Like his father, Damian just attracted female attention like a magnet. But no girlfriend. He's had the odd fling here and there but nobody has ever really caught his eye and he's incredibly busy he hasn't the time to feel that maybe he's missing out. Until he saw her.

All his time, attention and passion have been poured into his work. Not that he loved it exactly but he's never been one to do things by halves. Of course he made time to spend quality time with his family, after all, little Helena was barely ten years old. Perky and tireless, too smart for her age if he added. EHis youngest sister.

He was also known in the sports world as one of the most skilled people on the art of the traditional sword fighting and martial arts. He didn’t know where this passion for sword fighting began, although he would bet all his money that it had something to do with his strange recurrent dreams.

Although his life was satisfactory in his personal view, he always felt as if something was missing. He felt as lonely as the teenager in his dreams when the girl was not around him. She was missing.

Why this bothered him so much, he couldn’t find a logical reason that made any sense. It was just a simple dream, and that girl wasn’t much more than that. A dream. But why he felt that way? That need to look around every time he was in a place full of people hoping to get a glimpse of those shinning amethyst eyes looking at him like she did in his dreams with such profound emotion. Or his necessity to look for her around the world as if he was sure he could find her. She was etched in his bones, buried in down his bronze skin, burning in his chest leaving him out of breath. The images were flooding his mind again. More than absurd dreams, they were a recollection of memories...from a different lifetime perhaps.

They had something briefly, he gathered from the persistent dreams. It was intense, passionate. It was only something he could describe as love. But suddenly they parted ways, forced to be away from the other. They lost contact. The images were so vivid. They felt so real. A first last kiss filled with sorrow, powerlessness, genuine affection. It was carved into his mind until he memorized it. That moment. The warmth and scent of her breath put him in an hypnotic daze. Her lips parted softly, and he could taste faint traces salt from her tears when her soft lips pressed against his. He could feel lightning coursing through his veins, as if his entire world had been set ablaze only lasting seconds. Then it was gone. The ghost of a promise of a second chance. He’d grown tired of waiting for her to appear before his eyes. Every damn second felt like an eternity in itself. With every passing moment, his patience waned a little more and his heart sank a little further.

The haunting pain, endless longing, fear of losing her, the regret of leaving her behind first. They were all real. It was a silent torture.

At first, foolishly he believed these feelings would eventually fade and he would no longer be haunted by her phantom presence. Only memories he thought as he closed his emerald eyes. And her pale, heart-shaped, beautiful face flitted across his mind. Damian had spent his entire life being in control. But every time he met her in his dreams, he seemed to lose his grasp on his emotions, his life, and sometimes, even his destiny. He had to find her.

The wind howling through halls of old memories, piercing through solitude, skin and bone until there’s nothing but heavy emotions and melancholy. Walking with a heart that’s taken too many hits, never too fragile but refusing to be held in the hands of another’s that don’t belong to hers. In his chest remained an ache, a longing for what was or could have been. What he let slip.

“I am sorry we did not have time, Raven.” He mumbled almost in a whisper to nothingness. It felt like a heartfelt apology a thousand years too late. Maybe more or less. A lifetime too late. If their hearts and destiny were entwined surely they would find their back to each other no matter what. Damian carried that hope in his heart, always his constant companion. If He were to walk to the ends of the earth and waited for her on the horizon after the sun has set, would she be there? At the point where the land and sky meets. Could they be together once again?

Raven. The girl. He thought of her during the long hours between dusk and dawn, as he ate dinner alone or read next to the window. She was an ever present fixture in his mind and never more so than today. He considered what he might say to her once he found her, but what rational excuse could he offer to a stranger? He doubted she would find comfort in the ridiculous phrases he might string together about meeting in a past lifetime or those dreams. What if she had them too? If it wasn’t some breathtakingly realistic illusion and she was so where in this city or Jump City or anywhere else looking for him. It was silly to entertain such notions, he knew it well. But that didn’t stop his mind from wandering from time to time when he found a poignant passage of poetry that tugged at his heart, or a new book that fascinated him. She loved books how he knew that, he was not sure. What he wouldn’t give to have long days spent indulging their mutual passion for literature, poetry, history and ancient languages.

He’s been walking around for longer than he imagined, looking at his watch it’s last 6:00 pm. It was out of instinct or some magnetic pull forcing his body to look at the flower shop, whatever universal spirit or energy did it. He was thankful. The shop was tiny, a sliver of space between a cafe and bookstore, and would have disappeared into the surrounding stone and woodwork had it not been for the white and lavender exterior. Eyes quickly scanning surroundings. It was exquisite and untamed, thorny blackberry brambles mingle with fresh citrusy kumquats wrapped languidly around overhanging light fixtures for a wild, yet utterly magnificent and unique look. It had a three-panel glass window boasting an avant-garde display of blush dahlias, blizzard hydrangeas, soft purple lilacs, a mixture of green stems and leaves that balanced everything out. He had been here before but never spotted the shop. The shop was definitely new and if Damian hadn’t known this neighborhood so well, the faint smell of fresh paint would have given it away.

Her hair was a deep navy blue sprinkled with white, like starlight in winter. Her heart-shaped had matured beautifully, moonlight skin. She was a flashing star born with striking surreal violet orbs. She was holding astilbe flowers in white and soft pink. She set the flowers on the counter carefully, her fingers hovering in the space around them, like she wanted to guard them, to protect every petal from the possibility of being crushed. As if they were more than blooms of colour, like there were uniquely cherishable aspects to each one that is not present in the next. He could see that type of caring in her. This was his Raven. This can’t be real, Right? The world wouldn’t be this cruel to him, playing mind tricks on him. She was here. O

Damian thought of every slow-motion, heart-stopping, head-spinning scene in every romance movie or show or novel and how he’d always assumed they were stupid, nothing but rubbish. But here he was standing astonished literally staring at the woman of his dreams. Speak with her. Just hear her low and calming voice. That was all his mind would permit him to focus on, the single-minded determination to see her again.

He moved with driving purpose, his legs propelling him to go inside the little store and tell her everything about his dreams, recollection of old memories. The thought crossed his mind so briefly he scarcely dwelt on it, but that was how it had been for him in the months since dreaming of Raven. His pace slowed as he was stopped by the entrance door, opening it slowly, willing his heart to steady the gallop rhythm of its beats. The sun was shining brightly through the shop’s windows, soft classical music played through the serene and scented atmosphere.

The anticipation rushing through his veins felt like burning his tongue on Earl Grey too hot-tea a chilly rainy day, a dry mouth after sleepless night tossing and turning because other side of his bed looked too empty, trees in the park swayed and shuddered by the afternoon air before lighting fractures the sky and shakes earth, like he’s been waiting a million of breaths for this moment. In his twenty-one years of existence never experienced this wild and frantic emotion.

He swallowed around a very dry throat when he let the door swing shut behind him as his short, hesitant strides brought him directly up to the counter. Now they were face to face. Mustering the courage to say anything. Anything that dint make her think he was insane. But when his gaze met hers. Damian found himself awe-struck by the intensity behind familiar amethyst eyes. The stars couldn’t compare. The world and moon would crumble away. The sun would collapse into itself at this dazzling and glorious constellation that she was. Lilac pools hiding something mystic and ancient in their depth.

She leaned in closer to him in such a natural way, raising her head just to meet his. Her smile was sincere and expectant, pupils blown wide, but they’re focused, dark and determined, nearly drowning out the violet glint of her irises. His lips ached to reach for hers in a hungry kiss but refrained. Speechless, heart pounding in chest, peculiar fluttering sensation in his stomach, waiting for her to speak. Finally she took a deep and long breath before whispering. “Hello Damian. It’s been quite a long time.”

I rewrote this and hope you all like it. I can’t find it in me to update stories right now but have this short prompt. Specially written for @chromium7sky @ravenfan1242 @xaphrin @alerialblu @niahti and all my friends and readers. I’m so sorry some of you have been getting hate but we stand strong and together. 💜❤️❤️🥺🥺

@deep-in-mind67 @kallura-juniblade @bourniebna @timid-soot-sprite @deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @srose-foxfire

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petersasteria · 3 years

Text

Happy Ending - Harry Holland

Pairing: CEO!Harry x CEO!Reader Requested? Nah. This is my surprise for y’all after not writing for a while. 4.3k words

hh masterlist

Big thanks to @hotforharrison for allowing me to spill this idea before it disappeared in the depths of my mind.

* * * *

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Harry said.

The priest looked at you and said, “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.” You smiled.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you; husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The priest happily said. Harry turned to you and carefully lifted your veil and leaned in to give you a quick kiss before turning to his family, who was clapping.

You should’ve paid attention to that.

You should’ve known better, to be honest. After being married for three years, you should’ve seen all the signs, but you choose to be blinded by your ever-growing love for Harry. Yours and Harry’s family decided that both of you should get married in order to have a strong partnership and to be wealthier, you guessed.

Despite your marriage being arranged, you’ve learned and grown to love the Holland lad. He wasn’t very fond of you, though. When you met him, he was already dating someone and he was forced to break up with her and then he was forced to date you the next day. You understood where he was coming from because you were also seeing someone at that time. However, as time passed by, you learned things about him and those things made you love him. He was very easy to love, but he was a difficult person to deal with. You knew he didn’t love you, but you figured that he’d soon learn to love you eventually just like how you learned to love him.

You’ve never been more wrong in your life.

In the span of three years, Harry has done nothing domestic with you. He made sure he always drowned himself with work and the only time he’d have sex with you is when he’s annoyed about something and he needs to let it out. Shockingly, that rarely happened, so you make sure to cherish every heated moment you two have because you don’t know when the next one will be.

“Y/N, my dear, when will you and my son give me grandchildren?” Nikki asked you one day when you had lunch with her and Tom.

Tom chuckled as he cut a piece of steak, “Mum, don’t pressure them. I’m sure they’re planning. Right?” Tom looked at you as he ate the piece of steak on his fork and you just smiled at him. You wanted to tell them both that you and Harry weren’t very active in the bedroom, but you decided against it because you knew they’d ask why.

“See?” Tom said as he looked at Nikki. “They’re already trying. Let’s not mess with that part of their married life.”

Nikki playfully rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. I won’t ask anymore, but just know that I’m waiting.” She winked at you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

When you got home, Harry texted you saying that he wouldn’t come home because he’d be crashing at Sam’s place because they have something important to discuss. You didn’t know why, but the first thing that popped in your mind was, “Oh my god. He’s probably planning something for our anniversary. Maybe he’s had a change of heart.”

Your fourth year anniversary was months away, but you figured he was planning something big that’s why he was planning months before. You were wrong again though, but you didn't know that. Not yet, at least.

After that incident, it followed with many more.

“Y/N, I’m not coming home tonight.”

“I already ate, but thanks for cooking dinner.”

“I can’t have lunch with you because I have a meeting.”

“I’m having brunch with Tom. See you later or not.”

Soon, he started getting really angry at you. It didn’t matter what you did because he’d just get mad at you. He’s never shouted at you before, so when he shouted at you for the first time, it surprised you.

Being the good wife that you are, you decided it’d be nice to surprise Harry at his work place just for fun. You thought it’d be spontaneous. You even cancelled your whole day just to spend time with him. You showed up at his office and he wasn’t there. His secretary said he was having lunch with a few Japanese businessmen and that he’d be back shortly.

You didn’t have to wait long because he arrived at his office twenty minutes later and you were comfortably sitting on his big chair. The second he saw you, his mood changed.

“What’re you doing here?!” He asked and stormed up to you.

“I’m actually here to surprise you.” You said as you slowly stood up from his seat. “Surprise!” You smiled at him, but that didn’t wipe the anger from his face.

“Get out.” He said as he grabbed your things and gave it to you.

“Hey, what’re you doing?!” You shrieked and slightly pushed him away. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“And I’m trying to escort you out of here.” Harry said bluntly. “Just get out and I won’t have to force you out. That’s the nicest thing I could do for you.”

“No, Harry. The nicest thing you could do for me is to actually try spending time with me. You’re not even trying!” You said, raising your voice a bit to get your point across.

Harry scoffed, “If it wasn’t already obvious, I don’t fucking like you. So, hanging out with you is already asking too much from me.”

“I know that you don’t fucking like me, but you could at least try and learn how to fucking like me. That’s what I did to you.” You spat.

“Yes, but you and me are two different people.” He replied snarkily.

You chuckled bitterly and just left. You didn’t want to stay there anymore. You couldn’t believe that you actually stayed with him for nearly four years now. Of course, when he got home later that night, both of you had sex because he was hella annoyed because of you.

Today was your fourth year anniversary and despite what happened at his office a while back, you forgave him even though you knew he didn’t care if you forgave him or not. You slaved away in the kitchen to cook a few dishes to make the celebration special. And to make the celebration extra special, you found out that you were pregnant with your first baby. You were thrilled when you found out and you were nervous about how Harry would react because you didn’t know if he wanted a baby or not.

Harry got home and saw the dinner you prepared. He entered the dining area and saw you standing next to the table. “Happy anniversary.” You smiled softly. He only nodded and said, “I’ll join you for a bit. I’ll take a shower.” He took out his phone from his pocket and left it on the table.

He left the dining area and went straight to your shared room. You smiled to yourself and sat down. You saw his phone light up and there was something inside of you that was telling you to check. You immediately shook off the thought of checking it because it was wrong and it was invading his privacy. But for some reason, you pushed through. You were thankful that you did, though because you saw a text from someone named “Anna”.

See you tomorrow, baby. I love you xx

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you immediately grabbed your phone while unlocking his. You didn’t want to read his messages, but you went through his contacts to look for Anna’s contact. It was easy to find because Anna was the only person in the letter A section of the contacts. You immediately typed her contact on your phone and when you were finished, you exited the contacts app on his phone and removed it on the app switcher feature to remove the ‘evidence’. You locked his phone and put it back on where he left it. You slowly went back to your seat with your phone in hand. You quickly typed out a text to Anna. You lied and said that you were Harry’s cousin and that he said that it’d be cool if both of you would meet. She quickly replied and said that she was free next week and both of you decided to see each other on Friday next week.

When Harry got back, he sat on his seat and started eating. You lost the appetite to eat and you lost the enthusiasm to tell him that you were carrying his child. You stared at him as you asked yourself how he could sit there and act like he wasn’t hurting your feelings? You knew he didn’t like you, but you never thought he’d stoop so low to cheat on you.

Next week. Friday.

Friday quickly came around and you didn’t know what to feel. You were already at the restaurant you agreed on and you were seated at a table that had a clear view of the door. You didn’t have to ask what she was wearing because the moment she walked in, you knew it was her. Turns out, Anna was Harry’s ex that he still loved very much.

You guessed that she knew who you were because when you made eye contact, she slowed down in walking and bitterly chuckled. Regardless, she sat across from you and being polite, you let her order first because you already had food.

After she ordered, both of you were silent. You were praying that she was nicer than Harry and she was just praying that there won’t be a huge scene. She actually admired you a bit for reaching out and you admired her for showing up and not walking away as soon as she saw you.

When her order arrived, which was just a cup of coffee, you started talking. You cleared your throat and quietly said, “I know who you are; you’re my husband’s mistress.”

Anna was taking a sip of her coffee when you said that and she raised her eyebrows as soon as those words came out of your mouth. She nodded and put down her coffee. She wiped her mouth with the table napkin and crossed her legs. Anna looked at you and said, “Mistress? If I recall correctly, he loves me; not you. You’re more of a mistress than I am, in my book.”

“I’m his wife." You said calmly.

“I get that.” Anna nodded. “But you’re just his wife. You’re a cover up because his parents don’t like me for him. You may share a bed with him everyday, but I’ll always be the one he loves. That won’t change, Y/N.”

“I understand, but I thought both of you would have the decency to not cheat.” You said, teary-eyed.

She smiled sadly at you, “It’ll be cheating either way because I’d constantly be on his mind, I’d be the one in his heart, I’d be the one he’d always call or text if he’s excited about something or if he wants to rant, and I’d be the one he’ll love and want. His feelings for me alone are already sort of cheating.”

You sat there dumbfounded and you just stayed silent as hot tears streamed down your face. She looked at you and sighed, “Look, I know that he’s super harsh on you and as you can see, I’m not super harsh on you right now. Knowing him, he most likely won’t say sorry for his actions because he hates you, Y/N. So on behalf of me and Harry, I’m sorry for going behind your back.”

“I think it takes a lot of balls to contact me and to ask me to meet you. You even lied just so I can come here and that’s actually impressive. If it were someone else, they’d immediately drop the bomb of being the wife and you didn’t do that. That’s a smart move.” She added.

“But I’m sorry for everything. I know it won’t fix anything, but it takes balls to apologize so…” Anna shrugged and you just nodded and took a sip of your water.

When you got home, Harry was already there waiting for you. He was visibly mad and before you could even make it to the stairs, Harry stood up from the couch and pulled your arm. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Why’d you do that?” He asked angrily.

“Do what?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Why did you meet up with Anna?! How did you even get her number?” Harry glared at you and you were already in tears again. As if crying at the restaurant wasn’t enough.

“I got it while you were showering on our anniversary last week. Your phone lit up and I was curious so I-”

“Unlocked my phone and went through my contacts to look for her then you saved the number on your phone and put my phone back in place?” Harry finished and you couldn’t do anything but nod.

“Okay, so why’d you do it?! What was the reason?” Harry asked, his hands on his hips.

“You were drifting away.” You whimpered. “I mean, you used to have dinner here and then one day you stopped. You didn’t yell at me before, but now no matter what I do, you’d yell at me as if I did something wrong. I couldn’t handle it anymore!”

“If you couldn’t handle it anymore, why didn’t you just fucking leave?!” Harry hissed.

“Because I love you and I want this to work.” You answered truthfully.

He scoffed, “If you haven’t noticed, this isn’t working and it will never work!”

Both of you stood in silence. You were holding back your sobs and Harry was looking away from you as he took deep breaths to calm down; he didn’t want to do anything he’d later regret. He would never hit a woman, but he just wanted to make sure. As soon as he calmed down a bit, he turned to face you and said, “I’m filing for a divorce.”

“What?” You whispered.

“I’m filing for a divorce. I think you and I can agree that this whole fucking set up was mental and I hated every single second of it. You’re a good wife, you really are. I’m an asshole and I know that. You deserve to be someone else’s good wife, not me. Let’s just let each other go and move on. The partnership will not be affected, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll handle the rest.” He said calmly.

You just nodded, not putting up a fight anymore. “Okay. I’ll start packing my things, then. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it.” Harry said as he walked back to the living room. You raced up the stairs and packed your things as you sobbed.

A few days later, your divorce was finalized and all of your things were now at your old apartment. You never told Harry about the child you had with him, so while you raised the kid on your own, Harry was living his life with Anna.

You had a boy and you named him Reece. You raised him alone for the first five years of his life in secret, but Harry’s secretary saw you one time and immediately called Harry. Later that day, you got a phone call from Harry asking you if Reece was his.

“Yes, but that doesn’t concern you now.” You said shortly.

“I have every right to know who he is. I’m his father.” Harry said on the other line.

“You’re his father, but you’re not his dad. Those are two different things. Besides, this wasn’t part of the divorce.”

“This wasn’t part of the divorce because you didn’t bring it up.”

“What do you want, anyway?” You questioned.

“I want to get to know him. I want to see him, Y/N.” Harry said.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“I won’t hesitate to take this to court.” Harry said simply. Not wanting to go through the process of dealing things at court, you finally agreed. Harry only had one condition: he would only see him once a month, every Saturday.

Reece was now eight years old and he dreaded spending time with Harry. Reece was thankful that he only had to see him once a month and not every weekend like other kids who had divorced parents.

Harry never told his family about Reece because he knew they’d nag him about leaving you on your own to deal with raising a child. Anna was right; his family didn’t like her for him. Despite that, they all tried to support him.

“I don’t get it.” Harry started. “I’ve been in love with Anna for as long as I can remember and all of you still don’t approve of her. What the hell is wrong with all of you?”

“We ARE happy for you!” Tom said. Harry rolled his eyes and said, “You all have a funny way of showing it.”

“Harry, mate, we’re happy for you, but we think that you should’ve at least made amends with Y/N because we like her and because she’s our family friend.” Sam explained.

“We also want to meet Reece!” Nikki said and Harry’s eyes widened knowing that he never told them about Reece.

“What? How did you know about that?”

“We have our ways.” Paddy shrugged. “But that’s a different story. We want to meet him!”

“Yeah! Invite her to dinner.” Dom smiled as the rest of the Holland family agreed. Except for Harry, of course, because he and Anna were already engaged.

You walked in your office and your secretary, Timmy, was trailing behind you as he told you your schedule for today. You entered your office and Timmy stood by the door as he continued talking. He waited for you to sit on your seat before telling you the last one.

“Is that all, Chalamet?” You asked.

“Um, no, actually.” Timmy said shyly. “Mr. Tom Holland went here this morning hoping to speak with you, but you weren’t here yet.”

“I see.” You nodded. “Did he leave a message?” After all, it was quite strange for your ex-brother-in-law to just swing by your office to speak to you.

Timmy nodded and said, “Mr. Tom Holland and his family are inviting you to dinner with Reese at their manor.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and found it unusual. “Alright. Did Tom say when?”

“Tomorrow at six o’clock in the evening. Shall I confirm yours and Reese’s presence? Or shall I tell him that you and Reese won’t be joining?” Timmy asked as he opened the Gmail app on his iPad, getting ready to compose an email to Tom Holland on behalf of you.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” You said. What were you thinking?

The next night, you arrived at the manor on time and Reese wasn’t feeling very excited to see his father because it wasn’t Saturday.

“Reece-y, I want you to behave. You’ll meet your uncles and your grandma and grandpa. Be nice, okay? Tell me if you want to go home and we will.” You said before ringing the doorbell. As soon as you rang the doorbell, Reece tugged on your blouse and said, “Mum, I want to go home.”

You gave him a stern look and the door opened to reveal their maid. She lets you in and takes yours and Reece’s coats. The butler came over to lead you to the dining area where everyone was waiting. As soon as you entered the dining area, Reece was hiding behind you and everyone except for Harry and Anna greeted you.

“Y/N, darling, it’s so nice to see you again!” Tom said sweetly as he pulled you in for a hug. You hugged back and introduced Reece to him. The next few minutes were spent hugging and introducing. When it was over, you sat down next to Paddy. Reece was in between you and Sam.

It was clear that Reece was uncomfortable just by seeing his father and ‘the witch’. Anna was the witch. Reece only met her once and as soon as he saw her long acrylic nails, the nickname ‘witch’ was given to her. Reece wasn’t very secretive about his dislike with Anna. He was vocal about it.

“Hey, Reece-y boy!” Anna chirped happily.

“Hi witch.” Reece said as he made eye contact with Anna. Paddy heard this and snickered because he secretly liked the nickname his young nephew gave to his older brother’s wife-to-be.

“Reece, how old are you?” Sam asked the little boy next to him.

“I’m eight years old.” Reece smiled at him.

“You alright?” Sam asked. “You seem uncomfortable. Do you want anything?”

Reece shook his head, “I just don’t want to see Harry.” The whole table was surprised that Reece called Harry by his name and not ‘dad’ or ‘father’.

“Oh, how come?” Sam asked.

“I don’t like him because whenever he comes over to hang out, he doesn’t really hang out with me. He just takes me somewhere he can spend his money on. He actually stays on his phone the whole time. He’s probably always talking to the witch next to him, but I guess that’s okay.” Reece shrugged as if what he said was just something casual.

“Oh, okay then.” Sam nodded. He smiled at Reece and began distracting him from being uncomfortable.

Nikki cleared her throat as they ate their food, “How’s the company, Y/N?”

You smiled at her and happily told her about your company doing so well. The partnership actually made workload easier for everyone and it’s such a blessing.

“That’s so good to hear!” Dom nodded. “What about your personal life? Are you seeing anyone? Or do you have your eye on someone?”

You politely smiled and shook your head, “No, I’m not. I haven’t dated anyone since… well, since Harry.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it was kind of traumatic and it made me kind of paranoid, so yeah.” You chuckled lightly as you ignored the looks of pity they were giving you.

“There’s this guy in mum’s building who likes her and I talk to him a lot.” Reece happily said as he ate his mashed potatoes. You turned to him in concern because kids shouldn’t be speaking to strangers.

“He’s really nice and he does all of mum’s paper work. He also eats lunch alone and whenever I’m there, I join him for lunch.” Reece said.

“Is that where you run off to when I’m working?” You asked sweetly.

Harry chimed in, “You mean to say that you don’t know where our kid disappears to? What kind of mother are you?”

“Harry!” Nikki gasped.

Tom shook his head and came into your defense, “Considering that she’s a better parent than you, she’s the kind of mother who gives a shit.”

“Yeah and the right question here is: what kind of father are YOU?” Paddy challenged.

Anna didn’t want to take part in anything because in her defense, you and her already spoke before and figured that was enough. You didn’t need anymore shit on your plate.

Two weeks later, it was Harry’s time with Reece and you texted him saying: I’m not at the office at the moment. I just left for a conference. Reece is there with my secretary, Timmy. Feel free to drop by whenever.

Harry was wearing casual clothing when he picked up Reece. He saw Reece playing Legos on the floor of your office with a man he never met yet. Was he your secretary?

“Hey, kid. It’s time to go.” Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Reece looked up from his Legos and inwardly groaned. He stood up from the floor to get his bag, but immediately turned around to ask, “Can Timmy come?”

“Oh, no.” Timmy shook his head. “I have work to do and both of you should bond. He’s your dad, after all.” He smiled and stood up from the floor, brushing off the dirt from his neatly ironed slacks.

“He’s kind of not.” Reece said. “Please come with us, Timmy! It’ll be more fun with you there.”

Not wanting to be the bad guy, he said, “Timmy can come.”

Timmy looked at him in surprise and Harry nodded, “Yeah, I’ll just tell Y/N that you’ll be coming because Reece wanted it.” Harry wanted to talk to Timmy anyway.

Harry took Reece to the park and Reece happily played with the other kids as him and Timmy sat down on a bench nearby.

“Why are you close to my kid? He’s not yours.” Harry said bluntly.

“Yeah, but no offense: I do a damn better job at being a father.” Timmy argued.

“I’m still his father.”

“Biologically speaking, you are. But you’re not there when Reece has some school event that Y/N can’t go to and you’re not there when he has allergies. You’re not there when he’s sick and you’re not there AT ALL PERIOD. So save yourself the embarrassment because you won’t win this one.” Timmy said sternly.

“Fine.” Was all Harry said.

Timmy reported to you what happened when he brought Reece home to your place. You thanked him and you realized that the man Reece was talking about at the Hollands’ manor was Timmy. Since then, you observed him and realized that Timmy loved Reece like his own son.

It didn’t take long for both of you to date and you’ve been happy ever since. Timmy would always reassure you and that made you love him even more. A year later, you and Timmy got married and you’re now expecting your first baby with him.

You got your happy ending after all.

* * * *

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @sufwubi @abrielleholland @purplepizza-summerrain @euphorichxlland @marshxx @lizzyosterfield @justanamesstuff @croissantwriting @blueleatherbag @givebuckyhisplumsnow

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @allyz @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @drie-the-derp @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @geminiparkers @holland-styles @calltothewild @fancyxparker @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual @justanothermarvelmaniac @unsaidholland @musicalkeys @lost-in-the-stars03 @hufflepuffprincess24 @hollanddolanfangirl @parkerpeter24 @bellelittleoff @agentnataliahofferson @aqiise @lexirv @blairscott @hi-im-maddie @theonly1outof-a-billion @u-rrose @speedymaximoff @theliterarymess

#harry holland #harry holland imagines #harry holland imagine #harry holland one shots #harry holland one shot #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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themurphyzone · 3 years

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If I Can’t Love Him Ch 4

AN: I do eventually wanna write out an entire BatB AU, it’s just that it’s kinda on the backburner compared to Nova and Pinky the Snowmouse right now. Decided to finish this story before working on anything else in BatB AU. Unlike the other chapters, this one’s not based off any scene in the 1991 movie.

AO3 Link

Ch 4: Hints of Kindness

Two days since the West Wing incident, and there was still no sign of the Beast. His servants all said not to worry, he was always reclusive until it was time to give orders, but Pinky still worried for the Beast’s arm. He didn’t seem like the type to take it easy.

“Hey, if the scratches get infected, that’s on him,” Rita reassured Pinky as she escorted him down the corridor for breakfast.

The servants were on a rotating schedule of helping him get around the castle to prevent another incident of wandering somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. Pinky appreciated the company, but part of him also wanted to sneak around too. If he was going to be here for the rest of his life, then he wanted to know every nook and cranny of the castle.

At least the nooks and crannies of the places he was allowed to go in.

But sneaking around would have to wait. At least until the world stopped spinning around. It was throwing him off-balance.

“So what do you want for breakfast?” Rita asked, her halo bobbing above her head as she glided along the floor. “Cream? Fish? Or the gray stuff again? That’s always a hit.”

The moment breakfast was mentioned, Pinky’s stomach flip-flopped and churned. “Quiet, tummy,” he scolded.

“You good? You’re pale,” Rita asked. “Not exactly a healthy shade of white.”

“I’m...narf...I’m okay!” Pinky tried to smile at her, but Rita’s eyes only narrowed. “Don’t worry about me!”

A shiver wracked his body. Was it just him, or was the castle draftier than usual?

“Nice try, mouse,” Rita crossed her paws over her angel robe. “But a little tip about castle living? If the boss can’t pull a fast one over Hello Nurse when he’s sick, neither can you. Try it, and the results ain’t gonna be pretty.”

He was fine though. Pinky was used to hiding any signs of sickness from Papa. He couldn’t worry his father like that when there were other things to worry about. All he had to do was cover his mouth so all the icky stuff wouldn’t get out and run over to Slappy’s tree for help.

He didn’t like lying. It made him feel awful inside. But he had to, just so he wouldn’t scare Papa.

"Sorry," Pinky whispered, his throat tight. "I'll go back to my...I mean, the room you all gave me. I don't wanna make anyone else sick. Poit."

"Eh, don't worry about it," Rita said. "Only the boss is affected by that sorta thing. Rest of us are immune. Now c'mon. I gotta tell Hello Nurse so we can get some chow into you."

o-o-o-o-o

Secrets never remained secrets in the castle for long. It took a grand total of thirty seconds before a crowd of servants gathered outside the bedroom door, from the littlest dinner fork to several heavy cabinets that clinked with dishes and silverware as they moved.

A tall coat rack lifted Pinky back into bed. And while Pinky didn’t mind climbing to reach the strange, huge mattress that was cozy when he was tired and not so cozy when he thought of Papa and home, he was too dizzy to climb up himself right now.

Though he wanted to snuggle into the blankets more than anything else, he couldn’t until the stethoscope finished checking his heart and lungs. He shivered as the cold bell pressed into his chest and back, but tried to breathe when he was asked to.

When it was finished, the stethoscope firmly knocked twice against the mahogany bedframe and wrapped itself around the coat rack’s thin wooden arm.

“So what’s the verdict?” Rita asked from the doorway.

“Well, his heart and lungs are strong. And nothing’s inflamed either,” Hello Nurse said. “Pinky, are you having trouble breathing?”

Pinky shook his head.

“Any chest pain?”

“Nope. Don’t worry, everyone! It’s just a fever. I’ll be fit as a fiddle soon!” Pinky said, trying to reassure them. “And I can clean some rooms or dust the staircases or anything else you want then!”

“Nope, that won’t do at all! You’re our guest and we insist you get some rest!” Yakko protested. The fire on his head burnt intensely, and the flammable servants hastily scooted away from him. “Ya know, that’s not a bad verse for Be a Pest now that I think about it. But still! Don’t even think about getting out of bed ‘til Hello Nurse okays it!”

“Only for a day or two,” Hello Nurse added. “And tell someone immediately if you have trouble breathing or the fever gets worse. You came back soaked to the bone, and I don’t want this developing into pneumonia.”

Okay, at least he wouldn’t be confined for too long. He wanted to move around and explore. What was the point of being imprisoned in a castle if he couldn’t explore?

“What about Pharfignewton?” Pinky asked. “She fell in the river too. And...she’s all I’ve got now.”

His mother’s cape was in shreds. He didn’t know how Papa was doing. Pharfignewton was the only member of the family he could see now. The blue dress was his only remaining possession from his life in the village.

“She’s okay!” Dot piped up. “The stablemaster is one of the best in the province! He’s got her covered in a pretty violet blanket.”

“She really likes apples!” Wakko exclaimed.

Pharfignewton adored apples, and while Pinky trusted the servants to take care of her, he also wanted to make sure she was alright in-person.

But that would have to wait for a few hours.

Sapped of energy, he yawned and curled underneath the blankets. Only his head poked out, and his vision blurred as his eyes drooped with exhaustion.

The crowd dissipated with promises to come back with food and medicine later, until only Yakko lingered in the doorway.

“Keep an eye on him, Marita,” Hello Nurse told the purple and white wardrobe, which had a hippo’s face carved into the top. She hummed her agreement. “Now come along, Yakko. Pinky needs his rest.”

“But-”

“I’m sure Dr. Scratchnsniff misses you. It’s been a busy past few days,” Hello Nurse suggested, and Yakko hopped away, his spirits restored as he hollered about all the news he wanted to deliver to the psychiatrist’s couch.

Soon they were gone. As Pinky’s eyes drooped shut, he thought he might’ve seen the end of a cape and a zigzagged tail dart behind a crouching gargoyle in the hallway. But the door swung closed before he could be sure.

o-o-o-o-o

Despite the fever, or maybe because of it, it was the best sleep he had in ages.

“Wakey, wakey, Rip Van Winkle!” Dot shouted. “Got your hot tea and soup here!”

Pinky rubbed his eyes, stretching his limbs and tail as he sat up against his large pillow. His forehead was hot to the touch, and his throat was a bit sore. He breathed in fine, warm steam from the tea and soup, and while he didn’t have much of an appetite right now, he’d at least try to eat what he could. He was sure it would taste wonderful anyway.

A tray slid onto his lap. A steaming bowl of chicken and vegetable broth, a flower patterned teacup full of warm liquid, and a spoon and napkin laid on top of it.

“It’s lovely. Thanks so much!” Pinky said, smiling at the Warners, who sat atop a rolling cart next to his bed.

“Make sure you gobble it all down like a turkey!” Wakko exclaimed, doing his best impression of a turkey call just as Pinky took his first sip of the broth, which included several small pieces of carrots.

Pinky couldn’t help but laugh, which was a huge mistake with food in his mouth. He sputtered and coughed, quickly pounding on his throat as he snatched up the teacup and took a huge gulp of tea to wash it down.

“Well, don’t make him choke on it!” Dot scolded.

“Careful, dearie,” Marita said as she shifted a lovely green dress to a hanger on her front. “My darling Flavio puts lots of love into his food. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

“I will,” Pinky promised. He ate more slowly, trying to savor every bite. Not that he really needed to chew. Everything just slid down his throat like melted butter.

“That didn’t go into your lungs, right?” Yakko asked, who’d been strangely silent during the visit.

“I don’t think so,” Pinky replied. “And no agonizing, excruciating, stabbing, or writhing pain?”

Pinky stretched his limbs, careful not to jostle the tray too much. “A bit sore, but I’ll be alright.”

“It’s only a fever, Yakko,” Dot muttered, rolling her eyes as Yakko’s flames burst sporadically. “He’s not suddenly gonna drop dead or anything.”

Wakko shuffled his wooden legs awkwardly as Yakko and Dot burst into an argument over their guest’s health, and Pinky found himself nursing a headache that developed at his temple.

“Children, I think our guest wants some peace while he eats,” Marita suggested, her front drawer opening to reveal a lavender letter that was sealed with a heart-shaped kiss mark. “In the meantime, would you do me a favor and deliver this letter to my sweetheart?”

“For true love!” Dot squealed in joy, forgetting that she didn’t have hands to grab it by as she strained to grab it from Marita’s handle. Wakko reached over and grabbed it for her, and Dot hopped to the other side of the cart in a huff, muttering that she could’ve gotten it for herself.

“Hi-ho rolling cart, away!” Yakko shouted, and the cart sped across the room and slammed into the slightly ajar door, and the Warners were nearly thrown off the cart from the impact.

“GAH!” there was a surprised shout from behind the door as it crashed against the wall.

That wasn’t a normal door crashing into the wall sound.

To Pinky’s surprise, the Beast stumbled into view from behind the door. He clutched one shoulder with his bandaged arm, an irritated growl building in his throat.

The Warners whistled innocently and gave the Beast extremely wide, guilty smiles before zooming away.

“Ooh, that sounded like it hurt,” Pinky said, and the Beast looked at him in annoyance. Then Pinky remembered that they hadn’t spoken to each other in a few days, and he didn’t really know where he stood with the Beast right now. “Did they catch you on the arm?”

The white-collared shirt was new though. It was a high quality piece of clothing, even though it was a simple design.

The Beast stood in the doorway, the bandages outlined against his sleeve on his injured arm while he held onto the doorframe with his uninjured arm. He also wore a wine-red cape and a pair of black trousers, and both clothing items were much less worn and ragged than when Pinky had first met him in that tower just a few nights ago.

“They didn’t,” the Beast grunted, staring at the floor like he’d seen a very interesting dust bunny. The silence was only broken by Marita’s blissful humming and the clink of Pinky’s spoon against his bowl.

The Beast wasn’t the best at conversations. It was either too much roaring or stony silence with no in-between with him.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Pinky asked.

The Beast huffed. “I was napping behind the door.”

“Strange place to nap,” Pinky said. “Wouldn’t you be better off in a cozy bed? Less back problems that way. And you wouldn’t be smashed in the shoulder by a door.”

“I’ll...keep that in mind,” the Beast replied, still not making eye contact with Pinky.

Though his responses were short and blunt, it seemed to be more out of awkwardness than anything. Still, Pinky wished the Beast would come up with a topic. It wasn’t exactly 20 Questions if the other party wasn’t asking anything.

Pinky chewed a piece of chicken, even though he didn’t need to. “Is Yakko okay? He seemed kinda scared cause I’m sick.”

“Oh, he can’t help it, dearie. An illness almost took-” Marita trailed off as a growl rose from the Beast’s throat. “-well, nobody wants to see your fever grow worse. Especially Yakko.”

Had the Beast been severely ill for a time and didn’t want to admit it? Pinky wanted to ask, but from the way the Beast’s claws dug into the doorframe, he decided that maybe it was better if he didn’t.

“Sorry if it’s a sore subject. I can ask something else if you want,” Pinky said.

The Beast’s large ears lowered, and his growl tapered off. And for the first time, shadowed pink eyes met Pinky’s.

“The fabric you used as a temporary bandage...was it important?” the Beast asked.

Pinky dropped his spoon into the bowl, surprised at a question that involved his mother’s cloak. No harm in being honest though.

“That cloak used to belong to my mother. It became mine after the accident,” Pinky admitted. The two fabric scraps from his cloak had been laundered, scrubbed of blood, and neatly tucked away in one of Marita’s drawers. He figured he could still use them somehow, but hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

The Beast looked distinctly uncomfortable, averting his eyes once more. “Sorry about your mother.”

Though awkward, it was a more sincere condolence than what some who’d attended her funeral had said.

“She wouldn’t have minded though. I think she’d be happy to know her cloak helped you,” Pinky said.

He didn’t have any doubts about that. He remembered his mother as a generous, lovely soul, even though he was a child when she passed away.

The Beast placed a hand over his bandaged arm. Then he turned to leave.

“When you’re healthy again, I’ll personally make sure that you know your way around the castle,” the Beast said. “But only to ascertain that you won’t barge into the West Wing again.”

It would be nice not to get lost. He always had trouble finding the kitchen so he could thank Chef Flavio for his meals.

“Alright,” Pinky agreed as he pushed his tray aside. He wasn’t hungry anymore. “And Beast?”

The Beast was a few steps away from Pinky’s door. He paused and looked back, stumbling over his feet like he wasn’t used to walking on two legs.

“Thanks for checking on me,” Pinky said. He snuggled into the blankets once again, ready to sleep off his meal. “I’m sure I’ll recover twice as fast cause I know everyone wants me to feel better.”

There was a long silence.

“You’re welcome,” the Beast finally said. Then he was gone.

And strangely, Pinky was looking forward to the promised tour.

Fun fact: Stethoscopes were invented in 1816, which isn’t in the French Revolution era of Beauty and the Beast, but this is Animaniacs and I am allowed to be anachronistic.

Before the curse took hold, Dot was severely ill for a time (same deal as Wakko’s Wish), and Brain doesn’t want this info getting out cause it could potentially reveal the curse to Pinky. Yakko is just spooked by any type of illness as a result, even a temporary mild fever.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #beauty and the beast au

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cevansfics · 4 years

Text

Alone, together.

Paring: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: It’s yours and Chris’s Frist night completely alone together since the birth of you daughter.

Warnings: language, fluff, smut 18+, very slight dom!chris i guess

Word Count: 2.7k+

A/N: please feel free to let me know what you think, also if anyone ways to be added to the taglist drop me a message :)

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Chris was in the home office finishing off a phone call with his agent, while you stood in the kitchen finishing dinner, a lasagne you had made and a side salad. It’s been the first whole night Chris and you would have together since you had a baby, 8 months ago. You decide to cook dinner as opposed to going out so you could spend more quality time with your husband. Of course, Chris didn’t disagree; he loved your cooking.

Just as you got the food out the oven and placed it on the countertop, you heard the office door close with pads of feet on the hardwood floor accompanied by the patter and scrapes of Dodger following behind. Chris walks up behind you and placed his hands and arms around your waist, pulling you back into his embrace and he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“Looks good, baby.” His voice was a lot most relaxed than it was 40 minutes ago when he got a call from his agent. You remember the groan of disapproval from him when he had to leave to take the call.

“Everything okay with the phone call?” You ask as you open the cupboard door to get out a couple of plates. Chris quickly takes them for you and grabs the cutlery before heading into the dining room to set the table.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “Just had to briefly go over things for when I start filming next month.” He continued as he placed everything on the table. You stood there to admire him for just a moment, this routine wasn’t too much unlike other evenings, just without your daughter there, but seeing Chris all domesticated made you all warm and fuzzy inside.

“You’re staring,” his voice brought you out of your gaze.

“I’m allowed to.” You poke your tongue out at his as you turn and head back into the kitchen.

Dinner was over before you knew it. You both ate, drank and laughed. Just enjoying each other's company just like back when you had started dating. You end up talking about everything and anything. From a silly commercial you had seen on tv, to the projects he had in the coming months.

Eventually, after cleaning everything up after dinner you moved into the living room. You had a glass of wine, and Chris had a bottle of beer. You both decide on what movie you want to watch. Making most of the downtime. The movie is just about to start when Chris moves even closer to you. You feel him place his hand on your inner thigh slowly stroking his thumb. Suddenly you aren’t paying attention to the movie, all you can focus on is his touch. So much so, he starts talking to you and you don’t hear a word. Looking up your eyes catch him and you notice he has a massive smirk spread across his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You raised your eyebrows at him and told him he needed to ask you his question again.

“I said did you want a refill,” gesturing towards your empty glass.

“Oh… no, I’m good, thank you,” You smile at him before leaning forward to place the empty glass on the coffee table in front of you. Settling back next to him, his hand still placed on your thigh, you try your best to focus on the TV. You can’t. You feel Chris burning stare, as he’s not looking anywhere else but you.

“Now who’s staring.” You bump your shoulder into him, jolting him a bit.

“I can’t help it when my wife is so beautiful.” This man has been your husband for the past 5 years and just a simple sentence like that can still make you melt.

Slowly and gently he places a soft kiss just under your ear, sending a shiver through your whole body trying to stifle your moan. Feeling him smile against your neck you know you failed and he heard you, he was such a cocky son of a bitch sometimes. Pulling back, he reaches for your hand moving you to stand up, turn around and climb into his lap. Now you are straddling him, face to face. Within that movement, you hadn’t noticed Chris must have paused, or turned the tv off as the room was now silent. He seems to just take a moment, before reaching one hand up, brushing your stray hair behind your ear. You see his eyes darting between your eyes and lip as if asking permission. You don’t even notice yourself giving a little nod until his lips are pressed against yours. You melt into the kiss as sparks fly, likes it’s the first time you have ever kissed him. It’s not like the two of you haven’t been intimate since having a baby, you had but one way or another it was interrupted or sometimes even cut short because your daughter wanted one of you. That being said, every moment with him, somehow felt brand new.

Deepening the kiss your hand’s grab hold of his shirt and you involuntarily roll your hips against him making you both moan. You feel Chris’s hand move down your back, over your waist till his hands reach under your butt, giving a gentle squeeze before they rest there.

Pulling away from the kiss Chris whispered about moving things to the bedroom and you quickly agree. Suddenly, he’s standing, your arms are around his neck with your legs, tightly, wrapped gripping at his waist. Him supporting you with his arms wrapped under your butt, he swiftly and with complete ease moves toward your bedroom. You were always in awe of his strength, especially when he carries you like you weighed nothing.

Once you are in your bedroom Chris places you on the ground so you are now standing face to face. Reattaching his lips to yours, you feel his hand tugging at the hem of your shirt. He pulls it up and off completely, breaking from the kiss. You do the same to him, but before he has a chance to do anything else you reach for the button and zipper. Chris stands there watching you, letting you take off his pants. As soon as they are off, he swiftly kicks them out of the way. He grabs you, carefully, throwing you down on the bed as he starts taking off your jeans. You raise your hips off the bed to assist him as he shimmy’s them off down your legs taking your panties with them. Sitting up straight, reaching round you take off your bra, discarding it, leaving you both completely naked.

“Hand by your sides, grip hold of the bedsheet and don’t let go.” He ordered. The raspiness in his voice goes straight to your core. Knowing, kind of, how this is going to play out only excites you more. You loved when Chris took control so you happily do as you are told. Bunching up the sheet that lies beneath you in either hand determined not to disappoint.

Climbing on the bed Chris hovers over you, his body barely touching yours. You have to fight the urge to let go of the sheets and run your hands all over him. As though he can read your mind, he reminds you not to let go before leaning down, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking hard, while tugging and pulling the other between his finger and thumb.

“C-Chris…” you barely manage to get out.

“Shh.” Was the only response you got from him as he releases both of your nipples, running his hands all over you while licking and sucking and any bit of flesh he can. Abruptly he sits up, you whine and the loss of contact, and the chill of cold air that rushed over you. Spreading your legs open wide, he pulls your knees up so your legs are bent. Your breath begins to get faster, in anticipation of what’s about to happen, unfortunately, Chris only torturous you more. Ghosting his fingers, barely touching, over your wet lips making sure to miss the area you actually need him to touch. You start to buck your hips, to bring friction to your most sensitive point, Chris stops his action and with his hand, he holds your hips in place.

“No, baby girl.” That nickname. Some days you think that nickname, mixed with the raspy deepness of Chris’s voice, could bring you to orgasm alone. You stop trying to move, knowing it’s useless to try.

Chris shuffles down, now lying on his front between your legs. His left forearm placed firmly over your hips, stopping you from moving. Chris goes back to ghosting his fingers over you. Just when you think you can take it anymore you feel him slide one finger inside of you. It drives you crazy just how well this man, your man knows your body so well. The pleasure makes your breath halt. Drawing his finger out of you completely, before reentering you feel him add another finger, filling you more. You’re so close and he’s barely even touched you at this point. Picking up the pace his fingers start moving in and out of you, hitting the right spot inside. The pleasure building up inside if you, you're on the edge anyway but Chris gently swipes his tongue over your clit making you come hard.

“Oh- Fuck… yes” you nearly scream.

“That’s it baby girl, come on my fingers.” Chris doesn’t stop his movements. Just as you come down from your high Chris, stilling moving in and out of you as a steady past latches his lips around your clit, moaning as he does, which vibrates through you. You start to beg to be able to let go of the sheet and touch him but he doesn’t reply. You don’t know whether because he knows you already know the answer or because he’s too determined to make you come again.

You come again. Without fail. Unable to say a word or move your hips you pull hard on the sheet, not caring if you ripped it or not, just focused on every lick and suck from Chris’s mouth. His fingers still inside you. This time as you regain your senses, Chris slows down eventually stopping. Pulling his fingers out of you he quickly puts them in his mouth cleaning you off of him with a moan.

“You okay?” All you can do is nod. Chris begins to crawl over you. Planting sloppy wet kisses over your stomach, his hand roughly massages your breast, squeezing them together as he brings his mouth up and over them kissing a licking every inch of your skin. Before moving on and kissing your neck. You briefly feel him, rock hard and brushing against your inner thigh. You forget yourself for a moment and let go of the sheet, placing your hands on him, rolling your hips to urge him towards you. Quickly Chris grabs your wrist and places it back on the bed where they were.

“Did I say you could let go?”

“N-no. I’m sorry I forgot.”

“Now we’re going to have to start again baby girl.” As he sits up and shuffles back down your body.

Gripping the sheet as hard as you can show him you have hold of it you try to protest and apologize, “Please no. I’m sorry Chris, please I want… no need you inside of me. Please.” The final ‘please’ was barely a whisper, knowing not to matter how much you begged he was going to want you to keep your hand where they were. Chris began kissing his way up your body again, starting just above your hips. This time he was going agonizingly slowly. He places soft kisses all over your stomach and breast, taking his sweet time. You knew he was doing it on purpose, driving you crazy by barely touching you was one of his favourite things to do.

Finally, he reaches your neck, the kisses becoming harder and rougher as he takes your mouth with his. Feeling him rub his cock against your slit makes you break the kiss moaning out loud.

“Are you going to continue being a good girl and not let go?”

You start nodding in response before he’s even finished his sentence, and he pushes inside of you. Once completely inside of you, he stilled. Placing his forearms on the bed either side of your head. Staring up at him. You're so close face to face but not touching, even with just the moonlight illuminating the room, you could see his face clear as day. You could see pleasure take over his face before he’s even started moving.

No matter how many times you’d have sex feeling him fully inside of you always took you to a new place of pleasure. He started moving with a slow rhythm, letting you get used to him before he pulled out completely and ram back hard and fast all the way to the base. Causing you to scream out loud. He starts fucking you, hard. Not fast enough to get you off, but hard enough to keep you on edge begging to come. A slew of moans and curses leave your mouth along with more begging. Only this time you are entirely sure what you are begging for, whether it’s for him to let you touch him or for him to make you come.

“Just a little longer baby girl, I want you to come with me.” He moans out not missing a beat with his thrusts. Now you’re gripping the sheet pulling at it resisting the need to touch him when you hear - “Touch me, I need you to touch me now.”

You’re more than happy to oblige. Releasing the sheet, throwing your arms around his neck, running your hand through his thick hair, nail scraping at his scalp as you pull him down to kiss him. Both of your tongues going crazy in each other’s mouths. His hips don’t stop thrusting into you, lifting your legs you wrap them around his lower waist eventually digging the heel of your feet into his butt cheeks, thrusting up to meet him, wanting him deeper.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Your hands roaming all over each other. The room now filled with skin slapping against skin and the occasional moan or grunt from either of you. You don’t know how much longer you can last, you’re so close to the edge you can taste it. Yet again without fail Chris can read you like a book.

“You close, baby girl.” It wasn’t a question he knew. “You gonna come again for me? Going to come on my cock while I come deep inside you?” The words he’s whispering in your ear driving you even close to the edge you don’t know how you manage to form a response.

“Yes. God, yes. Chris, I’m gonna come, please.”

“Let go, baby girl, come on my cock, yes, that’s it.” Placing kisses all over your jawline and your mouth, his hips slow just enough to let you know you’re coming together. Riding out your orgasm, time seems to slow down, you see the pleasure in Chris’s face above yours, being in this moment with him, the love of your life, you feel like you could never love him more.

You don’t know how long it’s been Chris is still laying over you, moving the sweat damped hair off of your forehead, placing kisses over your cheeks, lips and closed eyelids.

“You okay sweetheart?” He asks.

“Mnfff..” is all you manage to get out. Laughing at your response, Chris jumps up walking into your bathroom, coming back with a cloth he helps clean you up before quickly discarding it. Climbing into bed next to you he pulls you closer to him before pulling the covers up over the pair of you.

“How do you have any energy left? I can even feel my legs,” finally you managed to get a full sentence out.

“Just an adrenaline rush from rocking your world.” He jokes placing a kiss in your hair. You nudge him on the chest laughing.

“You’re an ass.”

You snuggle back up to him getting comfortable, ready to enter the realm of slumber before saying, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Those and the last word you remember before falling asleep.

Tags:

@chris-butt

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #my writing

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.10

a/n: so this was supposedly a one-shot but i realized it was too long so it eventually led to an ongoing full on fic xD thank you all so much for spending the time to read this! :) have a bit of action in this chapter :’) this a long chapter so...

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 11

“Shall we?” Offering his arm, you gladly accepted it. This time, he couldn’t help the small content smile on his face when you fully held on to him. When the both of you were out of the gym, Bokuto had already turned around the corner leaving you two alone. “So, let me get this straight. You’re not from here, you have powers, and I somehow give you energy?”

“More or less.” Your other hand began to play with his fingers. “But it never goes past 35%.”

“How does it feel? To be stuck at that level? Is it frustrating for you?” He caught your fingers and intertwined them in his.

“Ooh~ You’re a curious one.” By now your knees were weak from being able to hold his hand. “At first, I was scared. Having to assess the situation is always tricky. When I realized that no one here has a quirk, I guess it was safe to assume that nothing could go wrong. It doesn’t necessarily suck. Being here for almost 3 months now, I actually like having not to rely on my quirk.”

“Do you ever think about what’s happening in your, uhh, dimension?”

“I do, every now and then.” For a second, you debated on telling him about being able to feel Todoroki’s warmth on your hands. “But, compared to my dimension, your world is a paradise.”

“What was UA, then?”

“It was the top school in Japan for producing great heroes.”

“Heroes?”

“Yeah.” God it felt so good to talk about home. Leaning your head on his arm, you continued. “I wanted to become a hero. Took the exam, passed, and got placed on the hero course. It sounds weird, I know, but it's pretty common there.”

“Your world sounds like a manga.” He stopped walking and faced you. Seeing you in a new light made him feel as if that tug he kept feeling had its purpose.

The moment he met you, Akaashi couldn’t help but want to get to know you more. When you took up the offer to be manager, it was the perfect opportunity. During the first day, he had managed to show off a bit by saving you from that particular chance ball. He could still remember the way you kept his eyes on him for longer periods of time.

He did feel that something was off. The bike-firecracker incident never made sense to him. Now that you told him, things just made sense now. But, with the knowledge that you liked him back, would it be unethical or selfish that he wished you would prefer to stay here?

“It’s not selfish, Akaashi.” His eyes widened. “No, I don’t read minds. It was just obvious because I’ve been thinking about the same thing too.”

The sounds of chattering and the aroma of the barbeque was much nearer now. Letting go of his arm, you made him enter the area first and trailed behind him. Walking back to your spot, you were met with empty plates and immediately assumed that Bokuto ate both your shares. Not minding it too much, Akaashi and you went with the team and ate there.

Hours had passed and the sun was now setting. Each team was now saying farewell to the others. Watching them board the bus, all of you were now waving the Karasuno crows goodbye. The next time you would see them would be in a few months. Not long after, the Fukurodani team was now lining up to enter the bus.

Taking the same seat, you stuffed your bag beneath you and wondered who would take the vacant seat. Bokuto had now entered the bus and he beamed when he saw the vacancy, before he could even sit…

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi spoke with a deadly unemotional tone. “Washio-san has something he wants to tell you.”

Tossing his bag to the seat beside you, Akaashi had to smirk at the face his friend gave him. Pouty face and deflated hair when Washio denied the allegations about him. Crossing his arms to his chest, Bokuto had to nod and cheer for his friend. This would have to be the first time for him to actually see such a range of emotion from him. Though, if he were to be honest, Bokuto was going to give the seat to Akaashi.

“You don’t feel sorry for Washio-san?” You teased your seatmate.

“Bokuto-san falls asleep every time we head back to school.” Especially when he sits beside their # 2 player. “I can switch seats with him if you want.”

Holding his shirt, you looked down and avoided eye contact. Your palms glowed a bit and he covered the glow with his hands, bringing them to his thighs. Brushing his thumb on your skin, you relaxed and huffed at his little prank.

The scenery was now changing as the travel back home began. Feeling drowsy, Akaashi offered his shoulder with red cheeks. Not long after, your breathing slowed down and evened. He stared at your sleeping form and rested his head on yours. The rest of the team were now sleeping so a little PDA was safe.

Noticing how your palms would occasionally glow faintly, he made sure to cover them before allowing himself the privilege to fall asleep.

Around 30 minutes before the bus would reach the school, Akaashi woke up. With your head nuzzling his neck and your palms faintly glowing, he was sure he could have a stroke with the amount of blood rushing through his cheeks. Glancing at the view, it wouldn’t be long before the bus would arrive.

Slowly checking if the others were still sleeping, he took a look at your palms. There were a million questions running through his brain. How old were you when you found out about your quirk? What was life like with having quirks? When you stated you went to a school that nurtured heroes, does that mean the diversity of quirks were so wide and varied? Was this ‘Shoto’ one of your friends from your side of the dimension?

With the sun now low in the orange and red sky, he covered your hands once more. Just in time for you to stir and wake up. Stretching a bit, he saw how the glow began to disappear.

“Sleep well?”

“You make a great pillow.” It was true though.

“The coach will be gathering us for a short meeting later.” He explained. “Do you want to have dinner?”

“In the same cafe?” Not bothering to fight the smile, you felt your palms heating up. Taking them away from his, you hid them underneath your thighs. Your face and the tips of your ears red. “Sorry. That happens when I can’t control my feelings.”

“Yes. In the same cafe.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you being flustered and your quirk showing it.

Moments later, all of you were now seated on the gym floors. The small announcement the coach gave was nothing too important. He merely stated that the incoming practices will be a little longer and a bit more straining for the players. Everyone nodded and took note of the days with no practices. Next thing you knew, you were now saying goodbye to the others and walking down the streets with Akaashi.

“Can I hold your hand?” He needed to make sure you were on the same page. There was no answer. You simply held his hand and laced your fingers with his. Seeing you giddy always made him happy.

“I bet you have a lot of questions. Go ahead and ask.”

“What’s your world like?”

“Just like this except we had bad guys almost everywhere. One of the worst one’s sounds like Tsukki, by the way.”

“Oh. That’s why.” He did not expect you to cling on to him when you met the tall middle blocker of Karasuno. The way your tightness and slight trembling of your shoulders made him wonder if you had any kind of trauma. He was wrong, but not really. “Have you fought big time bad guys?”

“Once… No twice. No wait, three times!” There were just too many instances by now. “The worst would have to be the one where we tried to save a little girl from her guardian. I didn’t fight the big boss but I did fight one of his henchmen. It was troublesome and I got badly injured.”

Opening the doors to the cafe, the two of you ordered your respective dishes and sat in the same booth. This time, you sat beside each other. Akaashi’s hand still laced with yours.

“Why did you want to be a hero?”

“That’s what everybody, or at least a big majority, wanted to be.” He noticed how your stare became distant. “My quirk is pretty high up there and my parents were proud. Everyone told me and even I began to think that things would be a walk in the park.”

“What’s your quirk at 100%?” He just had to ask.

“Well…” You never used your quirk at 100%. “I’ve never used it to that percentage. I usually use it until 80%. But, the thing with me is that if my quirk is below 40%, I can only do basic things. If it’s changing properties, then I can do plants. If it’s at 80% then you can expect to see me breaking huge chunks of cement or lifting boulders 50 times my weight. It’s draining but we train everyday.”

“That’s a lot of information to swallow.” He admitted. The laugh you gave him was reassuring enough. “Why did you tell me?”

“I never intended on telling you today. I envisioned myself saving a cat or safely pushing an old lady away from danger.” Facepalming, you cringed at how you exposed yourself. Akaashi understood that his little flaunting act was the main cause why you two were now holding hands in a small booth waiting for your food.

“So, Ushiwaka being your ex?”

You laughed. A loud one.

“I have never met that person in my life!” Shaking your head with amusement, you explained how you had to search his nearly empty social media accounts. Or the shock you experienced when you found out about him.

“You hold no memories here? Not even random childhood memories from your mom?”

“The only memories I have are from my dimension. It’s creepy looking at pictures of your younger self and having zero recollection. I got used to seeing it though. Every now and then I get tidbits of information as to who I was here. But it just stops at the present.”

“You’re very brave.” He couldn’t imagine the mental stress you were going through. “You really are meant to be a hero.”

“Frankly speaking, being a hero might sound cool and all but it…” Without realizing, you squeezed his hand. Chewing on your lower lip, you let out a shaky exhale. “It’s petrifying. Having villains infiltrate your school activities, defending the weak, and having to face the uncertainty of making it out alive takes a toll on you.”

“I’m sorry. I touched a sensitive topic.”

“Is it sad to say that’s not even a sensitive topic?” You leaned onto his shoulder. “I’ve fought with my life on the line twice. The other one got me staying in the hospital for 2 weeks.”

“Well,” He raised your head, index and thumb softly holding your chin. His gunmetal eyes met your (e/c). “I may not have powers or a quirk, but I will try my best to become a hero to you.”

“Akaashi…”

Your eyes began to cloud and lower lip to quiver. Hearing such simple words may sound cheesy to regular people in his dimension, but as someone who came from an environment where you were trained to put others first, it was enough to let you blink a waterfall of tears. Each mental strain you had undergone, from the USJ Attack, the LoV infiltrating your training camp, and even having to help Fatgum and Kiri with the eight precepts manifested.

Letting go of your hand, he pulled you into his arms. It made him think what exactly did you go through to make you react to those words. He meant them with all his being, of course, but the impact left him speechless. Maybe life in hero centered mangas weren’t as great as he thought.

Right on time, when you calmed down, the food arrived.

When the both of you were now standing outside your houses, you took your phone and checked the time. Avoiding eye contact, you scratched your nape.

“It’s still relatively early,” You were being bold and that amazed you. “Do you wanna drop by my house and chill? BUT NOT IN THAT WAY, OKAY! Just like, you know, get to know each other more or some shit.”

Taking the lead, Akaashi dragged your red face all the way to your door. Opening the entryway for you, you stepped in with your mother yelling from the kitchen. Announcing that Akaashi was here and that the two of you would stay in your room, you heard some teasing. Going up the stairs, your o-mother yelled your name.

“(y/n)!”

“Mom?”

“...Use protection!”

“WHAT THE HECK?! MOM!”

You half expected she would add more salt to the burn but that was least expected. Leading the red faced Akaashi to your room, he was surprised to see it very empty and barely any mementos. You weren’t kidding when you said you had no memories until the day you arrived here. Telling him to put his bag on your bed, he complied and soon helped in getting some pillows from the storage room. Seconds later, both of you were now sitting on the floor.

“What was your childhood like, Akaashi?”

“Normal for my dimension’s standards.” He reached for your hands and admired how you activated the yellow glow. “Aside from volleyball, I also liked reading. No particular genre, anything that catches my eye.”

“Do you plan to go pro?”

“Not quite.” He truthfully answered. “Volleyball is my life but I would like to take up literature one day.”

“What made you choose Fukurodani?”

“I was sent a recommendation letter. I had the option to choose between 2 schools but I chose this one.”

“Why choose this school?”

“I saw Bokuto-san playing and I was just so mesmerized at how much he loved the sport. I had no idea just how much of a handful he was but I don’t mind. Bokuto-san is who he is.” His eyes followed the small glowing orbs you had formed again. With the privacy surrounding you two, the orbs were much brighter and bigger. “What was your childhood like?”

“A rollercoaster ride.” Focusing a bit on your quirk, you morphed the orbs into one. Slowly the balls began to mold into an owl. Akaashi’s eyes sparkled at the sight before him. “When my quirk fully manifested, my parents boasted me around. It caught the attention of some big pro hero. Next thing I knew, my parents signed some papers and I was meeting up with his kid.”

“I don’t quite understand, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” The owl landed on Akaashi’s head and a few feathers of light began to float in front of him. “In my world, we have this thing called quirk-marriages. It’s exactly like an arranged marriage except it involves the person’s quirk.”

��Y-you’re engaged?” The look of horror in his eyes was clear.

“Was.” You saw his shoulders relax. “The guy I was supposed to marry was Todoroki Shoto, not that the name even matters here, and the engagement got called off two years ago. Both of us were glad his dad had an epiphany. He was sweet and all but I never saw him in that way.”

“What was his quirk?”

“Todoroki was a special one. He was the result of a quirk marriage. He has two.” Akaashi’s eyebrows jumped at the thought of having two kinds of quirks. One was enough but two? “We teased him ‘half and half’ since his quirk is fire and ice.”

“Wow. He balances himself.”

“He really does~ Even his hair is balanced. Half white and half red.”

“Huh, this world really is bland compared to yours.”

“On the contrary, it’s not.”

“I highly doubt that, (l/n). Everyday is like an unknown chapter waiting to present itself. The prospect of living or dying high, but I’m pretty sure all of you find it to be worth the hassle.”

“There’s that but there’s also you.” It was your turn to see him with his eyes wide open. It felt so fluffy to see the prettiest setter staring at your palms and trying his best to control the blood rushing on his cheeks. “I know you’ve only met me for less than 3 months, but I can say that you’ve given me comfort in ways you can’t fathom.”

Feeling his chest swelling, he pulled you back into his arms. His soft hair tickling your cheek as you relaxed into his arms. Your warmth was comforting as he buried himself in your hair.

“Do you wanna see me use it on that plant?” You offered. Voice a little muffled from inhaling his godly scent. “You’ve been touching me a lot so I might have a bit more juice-- gods that sounds wrong but you get the point.”

“If you insist.”

Slowly unwrapping his arms, you pouted at the sensation of wanting to just stay still and hug him back. Caressing your cheek, Akaashi smiled a bit. Taking in sharp breath, you could feel your heart rate rising again. Screw it. There was no way you were going to ruin the moment.

Stretching your hand, your palm glowed the brightest it's ever been since you arrived in this dimension. Following the tugging sensation, you began to manipulate the air around the houseplant. Akaashi did a double take when he realized what you were doing. Watching the area around the plant distort, it only took a second before the small pot was now floating above your palm.

Placing the little pot in between you two, your mind was blank and you were not sure what to change it into. You could go bold and flashy by changing it completely into a new plant or just turn it back into a desert rose.

“What flowers do you like looking at, Akaashi?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Do you like roses?”

“I don’t see a reason not to.”

Nodding your head, you were now using both your hands. The Hoya plant now began to hover along with the soil. With each curl of your finger, the plant began to morph into something else. The floating orbs were nowhere to be seen. In the blink of an eye, Akaashi let out a small ‘oh’ once a single stem of a rose now replaced the bushy succulent from before.

The rose was not fully opened yet. Placing everything back into the pot, you were now using just one hand. Pointing your finger at the closed bud, you traced imaginary circles with your index and the man in front of you watched it bloom in front of his eyes.

“W-why aren’t there any floating lights?” He had to wonder.

“I like to be flashy sometimes~” You smirked. “I can make them but for small magical stuff like these, it’s all up to me if I want them or skip ‘em.”

“You just changed the entire composition of the succulent.” His finger touching the soft petal. “Are you tired?”

“Just a bit. My body gets used to it pretty quickly. This used to be a desert rose but I changed it into the Hoya plant last week. So by now, it’s not too tiring.”

“Your quirk is amazing.” Akaashi praised you. His hand found your cheek again. Leaning to his touch, you concluded that he was even more addictive than you thought. In small and delicate movements, his thumb brushed your pink tainted cheeks. “You must’ve been very strong.”

“I tend to hold back when I use my quirk.” You looked down. “My quirk isn’t that strong because of that.”

“Why hold back something so beautiful?”

“It can be destructive just like all the other quirks.” Patting your lap, the owl you made rested on the spot you touched. “If I’m in a neutral or content state, its glow is yellow or what I want it to be. But once my negative emotions come out, it tends to turn into either red or black.”

“How was it when you first came here?”

“It was yellow. Faint but yellow.” Shifting the colors of the owl, Akaashi took note of how faint the glow was when you first arrived. The glow was barely there from what he could tell. When it shifted to red, the soft edges were now replaced with torn and jagged lines. The cuteness of the owl faded away into a more feral and hungry looking bird. Snapping your finger, the creature disappeared. “You’re not weirded out?”

“I am.” Akaashi stared blindly into space. “It’s a lot to digest. A part of me thinks this is all a dream but I know it’s not.”

“It is information overload.” For a moment, you wanted to crawl into his lap and nuzzle on to his neck. Instead, you scratched your cheek and returned the plant to its original spot. “If I were to be honest, I’m not sure if telling you was the right thing to do. I would rather have you be ignorant than to be mixed into the chaos of my world.”

“You wanted to be a hero, right?” Noticing how you were chewing your inner cheek, he had to wonder. What other secrets were you keeping? “Then there’s no reason for me not to trust you. You may not be from here but you're a main protagonist in my personal world.”

“God. Even in times like this you’re so beautiful.” You uttered under your breath.

Stretching his arms out, you saw his smile once more. Giving a nod, he gestures for you to come closer and sit on his lap. With a fast beating heart, he adjusted his position to make you more comfortable. Once the both of you were good, he tucked a loose strand of hair. His mesmerizing eyes solely focused on you.

“Let’s be each other's hero, (l/n)?”

“You know,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Heroes aren’t supposed to leave debts.”

“I believe I don’t owe anybody.” Once again his large hand caressed your cheek. His thumb lightly brushing your lower lip. Pulling you in inch by inch, his eyes landed on your lips and back to your eyes. “Are you always this alluring?”

“Eh. Depends on whose lap I’m sitting on.”

Closing the gap together, your lips met his soft one’s. This was nothing compared to your first kiss. The way his lips molded with yours made each butterfly in your belly to flutter. Feeling him snaking his arms around your waist, you gladly pulled him in closer and hugged him tighter. By now, you were sure that Akaashi could feel your rapidly beating heart.

Feeling his tongue running along your lower lip, you happily gave him entrance. It was a rather sloppy and messy kiss from this point on. Shifting your position, you now straddled him and tangled your fingers through his hair.

As of the moment, the only thing in both your minds was the feeling of your lips and tongue dancing with each other. If this was a dream, then you would be too scared to wake up. In all the days of being in this dimension, it was only now you felt that you were truly safe and belonged.

Being human, the both of you broke the kiss at the same time. Panting and catching both your breaths.

Noticing your room was a bit brighter than before, the both of you stared at the small firefly like orbs that danced around the both of you. Hiding your face on his shoulder, Akaashi chuckled and wrapped his arms around you once more.

- - - - -

a/n: hope ya’ll like that smol kissing scene XD and yes Akaashi is still accepting in his lineup! :)

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu akaashi

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nightingiall · 3 years

Text

things i love about you: you meet me in the afterglow

a post-little do you know drabble series // story page

Niall knew it from the moment he walked into the kitchen.

The afternoon light filtered in through the window, diffused slightly by the holographic decal Mona had applied to the top half. It casted soft rainbow flecks over her skin as she sat at the table, knees pulled up to her chest, a cup of tea balanced on top. She didn’t have to turn her face for him to know those big brown eyes were glazed over, lost in a thought that took her to some faraway place. He could tell instead from the deep hunch of her spine, rigid angles where there should be soft curves, her head slouched back in a defeated sort of slump.

Right, he remembered. Today was a Mimi day.

“Hiya, darlin’,” he greeted, mostly just to divert her attention away from whatever was swirling through her mind and focused on him instead. She flinched the slightest bit at the sound of his voice. Clearly, she was so lost in thought that she hadn’t even heard him come in.

A sharp intake of breath sounded as wide eyes flicked to him. She sent him a forced sort of smile. “Hi,” she murmured as he pressed his lips to her forehead. He had to give it to her. If he didn’t know her as well as he did then he’d have thought she was absolutely fine from the calm lilt of her voice. “Tea? I can put the kettle back on.”

“Sure.” They moved about the kitchen in a familiar shuffle. He washed his hands at the sink as she set the kettle over the stovetop, her spine cracking as she twisted back in a stretch. His fingers found her forgotten cuppa on the kitchen table because he couldn’t help it, and sure enough, it was cold, despite being more than half full. He held back a deep sigh.

When his eyes found Mona again, she was reaching up into the cupboard for a mug. “Takeout for dinner?”

He leaned against the counter as he loosened his tie, trying to appear nonchalant in his attempt to scan her features for a hint as to what could be bothering her. “Thought we were gonna try and use up all the veg that’s about to go bad in the fridge.”

Her shoulders heaved with a sigh. “Yeah, but I don’t feel like cooking tonight,” she said, that strained smile pulling along her lips again as she plopped a tea bag into the mug. “Let’s just order out and hang out on the couch. We can do a stir fry or something tomorrow.”

He knew the signs. Faraway, unfocused eyes. Constantly thrumming fingers. Tensed muscles in her shoulders. Not for the first time, he wished he could just press his ear to her head and hear all those buzzing thoughts that made her so unhappy. At least then, he’d know exactly what to do or what to say to make it all better. At least then, he wouldn’t feel this balloon of unease swelling within him at his complete helplessness, his complete inability to take all her pain away.

As always, he was at a loss whenever they ended up here. So instead, he gently smoothed her flyaway strands, tucking them gingerly into her bun, and said, “Sure. Whatever you want.”

And, so, perhaps he couldn’t fix everything, despite how desperately he would have loved to, but he could do what he knew best. He loved her a little extra. Ordered her favorite Indian takeout and ran her a bath with that fizzy lavender soap she adored. Curled up with her on the couch, a rom com playing on the television as they ate. Pressed soft kisses to her hairline when she leaned into him, her head nestled comfortably over his heart, his fingers twirling around the soft curls at the nape of her neck.

He held her as they watched the telly, close and snug, getting lost in an alternate world, a perhaps unrealistic reality, in which the two main characters fell in love and were pushed apart by some avoidable conflict but ended up with a happily ever after anyway. Except he liked to believe that perhaps a happily ever after didn’t have to be unrealistic. That he and Mona could have that.

Sure, there would always days that presented a challenge, and maybe they would get into avoidable conflicts too—they surely have gotten into their fair share of arguments over the years—but in the end, they would always choose each other. He surely made an effort to choose her every day. He knew she felt the same—or at least he hoped she did, as he often found his mind cast with a shadow of doubt on the days she got all distant on him.

Like today.

Glancing down, he found that she was fast asleep, her shoulders rising and falling rhythmically with each slow breath she took. He sighed, arms tightening the slightest bit around her. His beautiful Mona darling. She was so close and yet so far. “I wish I could read your mind,” he whispered into her hairline, eyes closed as he snuggled into her. “I wish I could make it all better.”

Mona simply snuffled slightly in sleep, fingers flexing where it was curled into the fabric of his shirt. Her lips were quirked upwards the tiniest bit, and he gently trailed a knuckle over the curved edge, savoring it. He hoped that in rest, at least, whatever bothered her while she was awake left her alone in her dreams.

With another sigh, he pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of that tiny smile, holding her close for a few more moments before shifting slightly so he could take her to bed. A muffled sound left her throat when he sat up. “I fell asleep?”

Niall couldn’t help the way he chuckled softly when she let out the cutest yawn, bringing her arms around his neck. “Yep. Bedtime for you.”

A quiet groan left her lips, feet kicking out slightly as he lifted her off the couch and carried her towards their room. “I can walk.”

He shook his head at her, rolling his eyes fondly. She could barely keep her eyes open. “I know.” She yawned again against his chest. “I just like carrying you.”

She hummed, a smile curving along her lips, and he relished in the sight of it. “Yes, I know, you can never get enough of me,” she mumbled, voice quiet and sleep muddled.

At this, he laughed, pushing their bedroom door open with his hip. “You know it, my darlin’.” He jostled her to wake just enough so she could pull back the covers, and he gently lowered her into the bed, tucking the blankets snug around her as she nuzzled into her pillow, already being pulled back into sleep. “Sweet dreams, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.”

“You’re not coming to bed?” she asked, already sounding so far away, halfway to dreamland.

He smiled, flicking off the light. “I’ll just go check everything is in place and I’ll be right there.”

“’M’kay,” she murmured. Another deep breath and he knew she was already out.

And, so, his nightly ritual commenced. He checked that the doors were locked, made sure any candles were put out, any appliances unplugged, any leaky taps dealt with. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and moisturized—a habit he’d picked up at his girlfriend’s insistence. When his workday could sometimes be a whirlwind, having some sort of daily routine helped him feel more grounded and less like life was mindlessly whisking him along. It was the little things, he found, that he enjoyed most.

He was just grabbing their phones from the coffee table when Mona’s started ringing, Harlow’s face lighting up the screen. He answered. “Hey, Harley.”

“Niall, hi!” As usual, Harlow sounded like she was juggling numerous tasks. In the background, he could hear something sizzling, like she was cooking, as well as the sound of her pouring out food for her new cat. He remembered Mona mentioning that Harlow and Zayn had been having trouble in paradise, but it seemed like the cat was saving them for now as Zayn had texted him numerous photos of them cuddling with the furry creature, whom they had named Fudge. “Is Mona around?”

He sat on the couch, flicking through the mail that had come in earlier to make sure there were no bills in the mix. “She just fell asleep. Today was a Mimi day.”

Harlow audibly paused. “Oh, damn, I forgot. Not a good session, I assume?”

“I guess not, but I’m not sure,” he said, rubbing his fingers over his eyes with a sigh. “She was very quiet tonight and she hardly ate. But she didn’t talk about it and I decided it probably wasn’t the time to ask.”

Harlow hummed in thought. “She’s been going to Mimi for a long time though. Does she still have rough sessions often?”

“Not really.” Niall fiddled with the edge of an open envelope, trying to remember how often he came home to find her already in bed. “Nothing has ever been as bad as the first few, but she has her bad days. Usually I let her stew over whatever she’s thinking about for a while and she’ll fess up eventually.”

Harlow huffed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” Niall chuckled quietly in response. “I have news that might make her feel better. What are you guys doing next weekend?”

He raised a brow, wondering where she was going with this. Harlow’s plans tended to be slightly over the top. “Mmm, nothing so far, I don’t think. What’s the news?”

It was as though he could feel her enthusiasm through the phone, like it was taking everything in her not to simply squeal. “Guess!”

Niall snorted. “Give me a hint?”

“Ugh, never mind I’ll just tell you I’m too excited.” This made him laugh because of course she was. “Deepa is having a baby!”

Niall didn’t think he was a particularly dramatic person but a gasp escaped him at this. “Holy shit! That’s incredible!”

“Yeah!” Harlow cackled. “She’s like four months along now and she only now told everyone. Can you believe that? I don’t even know how she kept it a secret for so long. Mom said that she’s showing quite a bit and that she couldn’t believe that no one noticed. Apparently she’s been wearing baggy clothes all the—”

In the background, Zayn could be heard huffing at Harlow to get to the damn point, which made Niall grin. It was moments like this that had him really missing when they all lived in the same building. They didn’t see nearly as much of each other as they used to, life pulling them all in different directions, but it made them more excited for all the things they planned to do together, like their annual cabin trip next month for the holidays.

Now, Harlow huffed, and Niall imagined her waving Zayn off. “Anyway, I was thinking we could all go to Cali next weekend to surprise her. She’s not doing all the gender reveal and baby shower things and I know I could just go when she gives birth but I can’t wait that long!”

Niall laughed. “I love that idea. I’ll tell Mona about it in the morning and let you know, but I’m sure she’ll be excited to go too.”

This time, Harlow actually did squeal. “Thanks, Nially Poo! I’m so excited. I know this will lift Mona’s spirits too.”

Niall definitely hoped so.

The plane jolted from a minor bout of turbulence and Niall’s eyes snapped open.

Mona turned to him, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You alright?”

He belatedly realized that he’d yanked on her hand when he flinched and he murmured an apology. Mona simply smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead before going back to gazing out the window. As he rested his head on her shoulder again, he noticed that as the plane sunk through the clouds, they were getting closer and closer to the ground, tiny squares of houses and swirling highways now visible in the distance. “We’re almost there?”

“Mhmm.” She gave his hand a comforting squeeze without looking at him. “Landing in fifteen minutes or so.”

He felt a bit bad. She was the one who needed cheering up, who’d been out of sorts for the past few days, and yet the morning was spent with her being the one to comfort him. He’d woken up with a raging headache, probably because everyone had come over to their place and they’d spent the night catching up and drinking cheap wine.

Mona had held his hand all throughout the cab ride over to the airport, rubbed his back gently as he tried not to be sick in the middle of the security checkpoint, and when they’d finally gotten onto the plane, she let him hide in the curve of her neck, warm fingers skimming gently along the hairs at the nape of his neck, only having to murmur, “Go to sleep, my love,” before he was out like a light.

Now, she passed him a bottle of water, instructing him to drink. She’d even saved him a packet of peanuts and some cookies the flight attendants must’ve passed out earlier. He accepted them happily, pressing a kiss to her cheek in thanks.

“Mate,” Liam groaned on his other side. He and Harry had seats on the other end of the aisle. “That wine fucked me up. What was in that shit?”

Harry scoffed, looking equally worse for wear. They were all really about to show up at the Kotecha house looking miserable and hungover. “Diesel fuel, probably,” Harry muttered, nursing a paper cup of coffee.

Niall drained his water and finished his snacks, feeling a lot better than he did earlier. After placing his rubbish in the bag held by the attendant, he turned back to Mona, tucking his face into crook of her shoulder again and comfortable settling in, even though they were going to land in a few minutes. “Did you get some rest?” he asked, catching the sight of the airport through the window, the runway closely approaching as the plane curved to the side.

“A little.” The corner of her mouth twitched and he knew it was a lie. It took a great amount of effort not to let out a resigned sigh.

From then, it was a whirlwind of activity, from landing to grabbing their luggage from the overhead compartment to filing out and meeting up in the waiting area. Harlow’s dad and Mona’s brother would be picking everyone up, and as they waited for them outside, Harlow teased the boys about their zombie-like appearances.

“Raina!” Harry called out excitedly when Nick and Mona’s mom pulled up to the curb. “You didn’t come back to New York like you promised!”

Raina laughed, letting Harry gather her into a hug when she got out the car. “I know, sorry. Soon, for sure!”

Nick pulled Mona into a quick embrace when he approached, grabbing her bag. “I think Mom likes Harry more than she likes us,” he said to her before greeting Niall with a handshake and hug as well.

Mona shrugged. “Even Niall’s mom likes Harry more than her own kids.”

Niall gasped in faux offense. “Hey!”

Mona laughed. “It’s true, though!”

When they pulled up to the Kotecha house, it was decorated with a slew of golden lights and flowers, draped across the doors and windows and railings. Niall couldn’t help but stand there for a moment and stare in awe.

“It’s Diwali,” Mona explained when she handed him his bag. Niall was familiar with the holiday. They’d celebrated it once a few years ago when the Kotechas came over to visit Harlow in New York. Though he had a feeling this was on a completely different level than that. The house could probably be seen from space with how bright it was.

“Holy shit,” he murmured when they walked inside. If the exterior was bright then inside was an absolute explosion. Niall imagined this was what it must feel like to step into a star. Not to mention the absolute heavenly aromas that were emanating from all corners—flavorful food being prepared in the kitchen, deep sandalwood from the burning incense, slight muskiness from the marigolds. He took great care not to step on the intricate swirls of colorful powder on the floor in front of the door as Harlow’s sisters, Pari and Jyoti, came rushing out to greet them.

“You’re here!” came a voice from the stairs. Niall looked up to find Deepa, Harlow’s eldest sister, and he smiled at her when she gave them all a tight hug. Harlow was not wrong, she was definitely showing quite a bit. He’d love to hear the stories of how she managed to keep this a secret for so long, which she promised to him with a laugh that she’d share later.

Harlow’s mom then ushered them all into the dining room to feed them. There was so much food that Niall couldn’t even decide what he wanted. There was that lusciously creamy paneer that he loved and the big flaky samosas that he loved and the mouthwatering but spicy biriyani that he, you guessed it, loved. Mona caught him reaching for the samosas and grinned, telling Harlow’s mom, “Seema Aunty, you’re gonna have to give Niall some more recipes because he makes samosas better than I can even dream of now.”

Both Seema and Raina gasped delightedly at this information, showering him in compliments until his cheeks felt as though they might just burn right off. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Mona holding back her laughter at his presumably tomato-red face, and he couldn’t even be miffed about it because at least she was laughing and having a good time.

After everyone showered and changed, they all sat down for prayers, indulged on delicious sweets, and then helped with lighting all the oil lamps to place in all corners of the house. There was no room for darkness in the Kotecha house. As Niall lit one, he found himself wishing that he could somehow take away all of Mona’s pain, wished that he could grab whatever was bothering her right out of her body and burn it away in the rows of oil lamps lined up all around them.

“Well,” came a voice to his left, and he glanced over to find Mona’s mom. She was smiling knowingly, eyes sparkling from the light bouncing all around the room. “Have you decided when you’re going to do it?”

He knew instantly she was referring to the proposal. He hadn’t brought the ring with him on this trip, deciding that he’d rather get to the bottom of whatever war was raging inside Mona’s head first, but he knew Raina was looking forward to the good news from the both of them. His cheeks prickled with heat again. “Erm, I dunno. I’m waiting for the right moment.”

Raina huffed exasperatedly, waving her hands. “You kids and this obsession with the right moment. I understand but I’m getting a little impatient.” They both laughed at this, Raina shoving his shoulders playfully. He looked up to find Mona only to spot her near the window, gazing out with a distant look in her eyes as she held an oil lamp in her hands. His heart twinged sharply at the sight.

As the night progressed, he noticed these short flickers shadowing over her features. She’d laugh along with Harlow’s sisters, cheeks tinging pink, until something in her head pulled her back. Or she’d reach for him randomly, a graze of fingers, a nudge of shoulders pressed together, and he’d know that it was because she was seeking comfort. He could hardly take it any longer. All he wanted was to pull her to the side and just ask her to tell him, just talk to him, just…anything except for this endless restlessness of knowing something was wrong but not knowing what to do to make it better.

Everyone laughed and shared stories and ate some more food and sweets. At the end of the night, he and Mona left with Raina, Nick, and Nick’s girlfriend, Kassie, to go back to the Shaw house. Niall joked along with Nick and Kassie while watching Mona from the corner of his eye. She’d curled into her mom’s shoulder, Raina’s arms wrapped snuggly around her, as they spoke quietly with each other.

When they got to the house, Mona told him to leave their bags in her old room and that she’d be there soon before she followed her mom up the stairs. Kassie made some tea and Niall sat around with her and Nick for a while. Nick caught Niall glancing towards the stairs and smiled. “You know,” he said, “Mo’s relationship with Mom has gotten so much better over the years. Probably even better than it ever was. And I never did thank you for that.”

Niall straightened in his seat slightly. “Thank me?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah. Being with you, it…saved her, in a way. After dad died she’d sort of been a shell of herself. But now she’s more open. Like we’ll talk for just a few minutes and it’s like we communicate so much better now. It’s been the best thing.”

Niall didn’t know how to tell him that if that were the case, then Mona had saved him too. He’d been a completely different person before he met her, angry at the world, lost and confused. Soulmates was what she had called them once, and it never felt more true than now.

He went to bed thinking this over. There were so many things that would have been different in his life if he’d never met Mona. He probably wouldn’t have reconnected with his own family, wouldn’t have met all of his wonderful friends, wouldn’t have felt this contentment nestling in his chest. A thought of the universe working hard to help stars align—to ensure all the pieces are in the correct place so a moment like that could happen, so two complete strangers could meet and somehow the entire course of their lives would change—settled over him as he closed his eyes.

“You asleep?” Mona was closing the door behind her when he looked up, smiling at the clothes he’d laid out for her so she wouldn’t have to go digging in her bag in the dark.

“Nope. Waiting for you.”

At this, she huffed out a chuckle. “How sweet,” she drawled, pulling on her sleep shorts and oversized tee. Niall held up the edge of the sheet for her and she grinned, immediately crawling in. “Mmm,” she hummed as she settled in, curling into his arms, “I’ve waited all day for this.”

Niall laughed and held her tighter, relishing in her breathy giggles against his neck. Their legs tangled together beneath the sheet, Mona sticking her cold fingers under his shirt to warm them up. He didn’t flinch at this anymore, not after years of the gesture. In fact, he always looked forward to that cool sensation against his spine. It reminded him that the love of his life was near and close.

He turned to press a kiss to her skin when he noticed her glassy eyes. Trailing his fingers across her cheekbones confirmed his suspicions. There were tears there recently, the skin slightly puffy and red. He must have frowned at the sight because she was suddenly tapping against the corner of his mouth. “Darlin.”

She took a deep breath, nuzzling in closer. Her voice was a tiny whisper in the dark room. “Can I tell you something?”

On the inside, his heart gave a slight stutter. On the outside, he smiled. “Anything.”

When she looked at him again, all pretenses were up. A storm of anguish swirled in the deep coffee brown of her eyes. “I miss my dad terribly lately.” A slight crack sounded within the syllables and it made his heart ache. “I feel like I’m in such a good place, and things are great, and there’s nothing to complain about. But then I find myself wishing he were here. So I could share these moments with him too.” She let out a shuddery sigh. “It’s like a big, gaping hole in my heart.”

He held her closer. Her words were muffled slightly in the fabric of his shirt. This, he realized, was something he could not fix.

“I wish you met him,” she murmured, “I think he’d love you. Mom says so too.”

Silence cloaked them for a few moments. He couldn’t help but close his eyes in utter defeat. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, pressing the words into her hairline. “I wish I could make it all better.”

He felt her smile against his chest and she shifted to look up at him. “But you do.” Warm fingers trailed along his jawline. “Mom helped me realize it. You do make it better.”

A buzz of warmth trickled though the cold dread in his heart. “I do?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. Those eyes, which were dark and blustery before, had softened now, lighting up slightly with her smile. “You fill that dumb gaping hole with love and light. You’re like sunshine, have I ever told you that?” She nestled back into the crook of his elbow to look at him better. “You’re warm and kind and gentle and filled with light, and you love me and I’m so lucky to have that. And I know you worry sometimes. You think I don’t notice but I do.” He huffed out a laugh at this, shaking his head because of course she noticed. He never could figure out how to be subtle when it came to her. “But you shouldn’t. Because whenever I feel lost or crazy or shitty, it’s being with you that helps me feel better. I just wanted you to know that. That I love you and that makes everything better.”

He smiled, heart surging with an indescribable warmth. It bubbled over and filled him up. He wondered if she could feel it when he kissed her. It was relief and satisfaction. It was an overflowing of everything he felt for her. His sweet Mona darling. His soulmate. Perhaps he should have brought the ring after all.

Oh, well. There were other moments. For now, he held Mona close. He’d never let go, and he knew that she never wanted him to.

#hiiii here's a VERY late diwali drabble lol #i wrote this agessss ago and i hate that i forgot to post it #the diwali part is kinda short anyway #things i love about you #writings #1dff

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