#I really didn’t need to get much this year.
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Flirting & friendzones | Leah Williamson x Arsenal/Swiss!Reader
Where Leah is a flirt and you are scared to give in to your feelings
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.6k
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Moving to a new club always brought some nerves with it, but luckily your national team captain and close friend Lia Wälti had been at your new club for years. Through her you had met some of her teammates for quick moments on the field during national team games over the years, but you didn't have much more of a connection with them.
While that connection wasn't there, you had kept one secret from Lia, and that was that you had a crush on her best friend Leah ever since she first introduced the two of you on the pitch years ago. You had never acted on your crush on the England captain more than following her on Instagram, but now you'd be playing at the same club as her, which brought a whole different wave of nerves your way.
You were welcomed at Arsenal with open arms, as Lia had ensured you. Each and everyone of your teammates, and the staff members made you feel right at home. Lia had helped you secure an apartment before you had arrived, so you had your own space right away.
After your first training, Lia invited you to come hang out and Beth and Viv their place. A regular hangout spot according to her, especially since they just got a new puppy. Lia drove you home from training, and told you she’d pick you up in an hour to head over to Beth and Viv’s.
An hour later your doorbell rang, but when you opened the door it was Leah instead of Lia. “Hey, Lia had to run some errands before heading over to the girls, so she asked me to pick you up instead.” Leah had taken the request to ‘pick you up’ to a whole new level as she started flirting with you.
“You look great by the way.” She started while you walked over to her car. Just a simple friendly comment you thought, but still the blush rushed to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You said before quickly getting a step ahead of the blonde, to make sure she wouldn’t notice your blushing.
Of course Leah noticed right away and would now make it her mission to see you blush. “I mean it, you clean up nice. Haven’t seen you outside of football kits in person.” You reach the door and she opens your side for you. “Seems like a great date outfit too, if you even need a dinner date to wear it to, you know where to find me.” She left you frozen in place with her comment, and closed your door only to get in on the other side with a big smirk on her face.
“So, how has London been treating you so far?” You started telling Leah about your first week there, happy to no longer be the target of her flirting. At least that is what you thought until she followed up with, “Good to hear! If you ever need a tour guide, I am more than happy to volunteer.” On its own it wouldn’t be flirting, but the way she looked at you while you said it, gave the sentence a whole different meeting.
“I really appreciate it, but Lia is showing me around already.” You said as you got out of the car, as you arrived at the girls' house. “Always Lia, huh?” She acted hurt. “Well, if she ever gets too busy, give me a call.” You walked up to the door quickly, “Oh look at that, we’re here.” You say as Beth opens the door. Darting inside without even saying a proper hello, propping yourself up between Viv and Kim who were already cuddling with Myle.
Beth turned her attention to Leah, “Damn, what did you do?” She shrugs her shoulders, “Nothing.” In return Beth raised an eyebrow towards Leah, but she didn’t push further. Instead she turned her attention to you. “Glad you could make it. I see Myle made a new friend already!” Myle had gotten comfortable in your lap and started taking a nap there only moments after you had sat down. “She’s very cute.” You comment while looking at the pup lovingly. “I understand why everyone wants to hang out at your place.” You joke.
The conversations between everyone started flowing freely, and you felt immediately accepted into the group of girls. Leah continued her flirting with the rest of the girls around, which piqued the interest of the girls, though they didn’t say anything. Only the occasional chuckle when you would turn Leah down again.
It was hard having to say no to the woman you had been crushing on for years, but you had just joined a new club and she was co-captain of it, as well as Lia’s best friend. It didn’t seem right to act on your feelings, even though Leah was acting on them plenty. You came here to play football, you kept reminding yourself.
Half an hour later Lia arrived, carrying in a few bags of groceries. “Sorry, it was quite busy at the store. What did I miss?” Some of the girls looked between you and Leah and wondered if they should poke some fun at the situation, but before they could, you answered her question. “Nothing much, we were just talking about how cute Myle is.”
Lia, who had handed the groceries over to Viv, sat down beside you with a smile on her face. “She really is adorable. I’m glad to see you fit right in, I was worried about leaving you out here on your own.” It really did feel like you fit right in.
“You don’t need to worry,” Leah interjected smoothly. “she wasn’t alone. I was here to make sure she’s well taken care of.” Her comment earned her a loud chuckle from Vic, who hurried to the kitchen to hide her laughter. Lia shot her best friend a look. “I’m sure you were, Lee.”
After dinner, Lia drove you home. “I am so happy you’re feeling at home already. How are the girls?” She asked while exiting the parking space. “Yeah, they’re really kind. I couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome.” Lia was truly happy you found your spot within her little family at the club.
She turned to you with a smirk. “What?” You asked instantly, already not liking the look on her face. “Don’t what me.” She laughs, “I was just going to ask what about Leah?” The slight blush that creeped up to your cheeks should’ve said enough. “Leah has been kind too, very kind.” Lia chuckled at your expression. “Kind? That girl has been flirting with you since the moment you arrived.” Your eyes widened, Lia had noticed.
“Relax! Why do you think I introduced you all those years ago? You are literally perfect for each other. Back then I didn’t tell you my reasoning, because I didn’t think it would be fair to try and set you up with someone that lived in a different country.” She let that set in for a moment before she asked again, “So, what about Leah?” Her smirk grew again.
“Leah is great. I think I’ve kind of been pushing her into the friendzone though.” Lia stopped the car. You hadn’t been paying attention, not that you knew the roads yet, but you knew that you weren’t at your place or Lia’s. “It’s a good thing that Leah doesn’t easily give up, go shoot your shot.” You sent her a confused look, “Right now?” She points to the building ahead of you, “Yup, right now. That’s her place right there. Her car is here already, so she just got back as well.” She unbuckled your seatbelt, “Go!” You shake your head at her but get out of the car anyway. “Call me when you need a ride back.”
You walk up to Leah’s door nervously, but knock nonetheless. When Leah opens the door, Lia decides to drive off. “Oh, hi, come in. Finally done with Lia?” You roll her eyes at how her flirting turned right back on.
She walks you into her home, and you get right to the point. “Can we talk about today?” Leah’s face turns serious, feeling like she might have messed up. “Oh, I’m sorry if I was taking it too far. I thought there was a vibe, sorry if I read that wrong.” You shake your head, “No, no don’t worry. Actually it was me wanting to apologise. I was kind of pushing you towards the friendzone, because I didn’t want to mess anything up with Lia or the team.”
Leah’s lips curve into a smile again, “But now you’re throwing me a ladder to come back out of the friendszone?” Her tone is hopeful. “If I’m not too late, yeah.” The blonde shakes her head, “Definitely not too late.”
Now that the big conversation was out of the way, you finally felt like it was okay to sit down. “You know Lia has been rooting for us for years?” You nod remembering the conversation in the car. “Yeah, she told me on the way here. I had no clue that this had been her intention all along.”
Leah sits down beside you, “You know, I’ve liked you ever since we met when our teams played against each other that time Lia introduced us.” Your cheeks heat up again, “I have liked you since that day too.”
Her eyes light up, “So, can we give this a try?” Her tone was hopeful again. “Yes, I’d like that.” With that, Leah closes the distance and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. When you pull back, both of you are smiling.
“Want to stay for a while? I can drive you home wherever you want to go home.” You smile, “Yeah,” You’d love to spend more time with Leah. “I’ll text Lia and let her know that I won’t be needing that ride anymore.”
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#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x you#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#awfc#lia walti x reader#lia walti#engwnt#engwnt x reader#engwnt imagine#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#lionesses x reader
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Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.
Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺
Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.
Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!
thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k
Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living.
It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer.
It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg.
Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach.
But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way.
I’ll have to go back.
Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?
To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out.
Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting.
You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here.
I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years.
I won’t be your leech.
You’re not my leech, don’t say that.
I can’t just not have money.
Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask.
Spencer… you’re my boyfriend.
Exactly.
No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that.
He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing.
You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you.
A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back.
He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.”
Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?”
“The money I owe you.”
He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“No, seriously, please take it.”
He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.”
You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)
“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion.
You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back.
“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.”
“You what?” he asks.
“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy.
“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?”
You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.”
Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?”
“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.”
He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do.
Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!”
He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I might still strip,” you say.
“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips.
You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you.
“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yeah?”
You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.”
Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.”
“It’s just a part time job.”
“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.”
He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders.
You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what.
“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?”
“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers.
“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?”
“Of course I do.”
Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Jiyaaaan request coming your way~
While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)
(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)
A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!
Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more
The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.
Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.
The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.
“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?”
It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.
“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.
“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"
The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage.
A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear. “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.
“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.
“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades.
What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.
The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.
“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this.
Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous.
You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.
Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.
“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.
Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.
“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat.
“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.
“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”
“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face.
“Alright! Awesome-”
“Yes, sir!"
“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!”
He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you.
“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.
“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”
“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.
“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another.
“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”
Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
#-dragon.treasure#Jiyan#Jiyan x reader#Jiyan x you#Jiyan x y/n#jiyan x rover#jiyan imagine#jiyan fluff#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x reader#wuthering waves x you#wuthering waves x female reader#jiyan x female rader#wuwa x reader#wuwa#wuwa x you#wuwa imagine#wuwa fluff#wuthering waves x y/n
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Something Real
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader
Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6.3K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.
Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️
🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist
“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.
The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.
The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.
“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.
“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.
This, from the man who storms burning buildings.
You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.
“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.
It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.
“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.
“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.
Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.
Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.
“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.
“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”
“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”
You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.
“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”
Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.
“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.
“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”
Dean hummed again, raising his brows.
“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.
You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.
“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”
Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.
“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”
His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.
It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.
Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.
Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.
“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”
But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.
“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.
“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.
You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.
“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”
Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”
“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.
“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.
They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.
It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)
Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.
You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.
“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.
At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.
“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”
You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.
“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.
Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.
“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”
You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.
Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…
Your newfound family.
The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.
By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.
The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.
However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.
It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.
You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.
“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”
“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.
“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”
You had to laugh.
“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.
You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.
You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.
“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.
“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.
There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.
You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.
“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.
Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.
You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.
Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.
“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.
“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.
You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”
Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.
“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.
He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.
Dean could see there was something off with you, though.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”
Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.
One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.
He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”
You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”
Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.
“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”
After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.
“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”
Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.
Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.
Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.
That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”
You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.
Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.
Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”
He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.
“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.
Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”
You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.
You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.
“Thanks,” you whispered.
He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”
You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.
“I prefer Captain,” you said.
Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”
“I really do,” you replied cheekily.
After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.
“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.
You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.
Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.
You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.
You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.
You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.
Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.
Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.
“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.
“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.
“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.
“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.
“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.
You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.
“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”
At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”
You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.
“Yes, you do,” you agreed.
Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.
“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”
Dean was quiet for a beat.
“How long then?” he asked.
“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.
“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”
The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.
Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.
“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”
You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.
“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.
Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”
Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.
That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.
Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.
“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”
Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.
“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”
Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.
She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.
You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…
“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.
“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.
She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.
“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”
It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.
As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.
Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.
Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.
When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.
“What do you think?” you asked.
Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.
“Damn,” he said lowly.
You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.
“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.
“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.
You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”
Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.
“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.
He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”
You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.
“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”
Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.
“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”
He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.
“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.
“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”
Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”
You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”
And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.
“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.
“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.
“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.
“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”
Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.
“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.
You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.
“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.
Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.
“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.
“I’m counting on it.”
You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)
You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.
He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.
“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.
Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.
“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”
Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”
“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.
The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.
“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.
“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”
You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”
“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”
You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.
“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.
“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”
Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.
Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.
A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.
“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.
“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”
“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.
He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”
“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”
Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.
Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.
He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.
“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.
You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.
“Come on,” you whispered.
When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.
He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.
Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.
In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.
He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.
He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”
“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.
Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.
You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”
“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.
You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.
But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.
“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.
You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”
He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.
And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.
“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.
By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.
“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.
You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.
“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”
Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.
“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.
To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.
“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.
Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.
A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.
A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.
Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.
Now, he had an actual future to build with you.
And he was more than ready to get started.
AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️🔥
(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.
Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol
Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)
A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.
ＦＩＶＥ • ＹＥＡＲＳ • ＡＧＯ
There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.
You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.
He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.
You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.
He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.
But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.
It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’
Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’
You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’
Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’
He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.
You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”
He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”
All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.
It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.
He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.
You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.
You really did have all the time in the world.
Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?
You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.
And that’s what he did.
Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”
Rock would nod, “Y/n?”
A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”
Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”
——
“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”
“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”
“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”
“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”
He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.
About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”
“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”
The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”
Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”
It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.
You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.
“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.
You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”
——
Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.
“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”
“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”
“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”
You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”
“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.
“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.
You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”
You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.
“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”
You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.
“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”
You were scared shitless.
You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.
Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”
You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”
“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”
Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”
The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.
“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”
He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.
You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”
Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”
Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.
——
“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.
You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”
“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”
You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”
“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.
“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.
“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”
“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”
You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.
You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.
You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.
He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”
The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”
You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”
“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”
The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”
The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“When she lifted her arm, it-“
“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.
You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”
He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”
——
Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.
By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.
To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.
You really didn’t know why.
You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?
“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”
You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.
“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.
You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.
“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.
“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”
“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”
“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”
Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.
You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.
As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.
“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.
“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”
You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.
“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”
“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”
“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”
Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”
You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”
Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.
Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”
“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“
Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”
He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”
Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.
You swallow, glancing around.
You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.
“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.
“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”
He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”
——
Ｐ Ｒ Ｅ Ｓ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ • Ｄ Ａ Ｙ
You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.
You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.
It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.
You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.
And you’re full of fight.
You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.
You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.
You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.
If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.
He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.
You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.
If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.
“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.
Your cabin.
You feel like you could throw up.
You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.
“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”
You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”
She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”
You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”
“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”
She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”
“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”
She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”
You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.
The feelings you had, never went away.
“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”
Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.
“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.
“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”
You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”
Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.
“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”
You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”
You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.
“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”
——
Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.
You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.
ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.
“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”
“What?”
“Negan is at Alexandria.”
You’re on your feet, “What.”
“It’s only tem-“
You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.
As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.
“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”
Do you resent him now?
Are you going to leave again?
He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.
“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”
“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”
“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“
You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”
He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”
His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”
“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”
Which was one of many you have received.
“Sorry I-“
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”
All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”
“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.
He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”
Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.
You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”
Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”
You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”
You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.
“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.
Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”
“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.
“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”
“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”
You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”
“What happened out there?”
You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“
“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.
You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.
A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.
You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.
Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.
You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.
He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.
“Look at me, y/n.”
You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.
“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”
You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.
“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”
“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”
——
I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤
likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#Daryl Dixon#Daryl Dixon x reader#daryl dixion imagine#twd Daryl Dixon#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfictions#the walking dead one shots#smut#fluff#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x y/n#Daddy issues#Daryl Dixon one shots#Daryl dixon one shot#Daryl Dixon oneshots#Daryl Dixon oneshot#Daryl Dixon fluff#Daryl Dixon smut#fanfiction#fanfic#twd fanfiction
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What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.
And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.
Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.
And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.
This was just… bizarre.
“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.
Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.
He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.
“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”
It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.
“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.
Tim hums. “No, we did not.”
Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.
“Seriously?”
“What? You’re the friendly one.”
Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.
Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”
“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.
“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”
“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”
“You mean stalking.”
“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”
Dick sighs again.
“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.
‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx
“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?
“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”
“What?!”
“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.
“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”
Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.
“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.
The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.
He glances back down at his phone.
“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.
“Intrigued yet?”
Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.
He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.
Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.
Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.
Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.
A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!
He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.
Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.
Underwear_guy: Where are you?
Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.
Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.
You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.
You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea.
“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.
Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.
“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”
Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.
-
George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.
Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.
Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.
Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.
You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?
You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.
…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.
You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!
“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.
Good. That was damn well good.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.
Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.
“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”
“You bit me!”
Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.
“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.
“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?
You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.
“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.
George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.
George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.
White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.
Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.
You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.
You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.
“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.
“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.
“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?
Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.
“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.
He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.
…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.
“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”
You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.
“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.
Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.
Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.
Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.
Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.
There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?
For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.
He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.
Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.
“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.
“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.
“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.
He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.
You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.
Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.
“So, how are you feeling?”
Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.
“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.
You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.
While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…
“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”
“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.
You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.
Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.
Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.
Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.
The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.
“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”
“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.
“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.
You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.
Dick doesn’t make it any better.
“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.
“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.
You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.
Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.
His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.
“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”
Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.
Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.
Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-
You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.
And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.
Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.
“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”
“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”
“And you know I always will, right?”
Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.
It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.
You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.
Your feelings must show on your face.
Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.
“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.
Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.
You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.
“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”
Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.
“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.
Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.
You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.
In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.
Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.
For now, you give him your back as well.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#batfam x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 1] Offerings
Story Masterlist
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.
He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.
He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.
“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.
“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.
“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.
“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”
“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.
“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.
Sukuna wants a successor.
“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.
“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.
It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.
“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”
“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.
“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”
There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”
“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.
“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.
“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”
“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,
“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”
You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.
“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.
You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.
“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.
“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.
You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.
“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”
“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”
He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.
What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.
“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”
“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.
“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”
Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.
“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”
“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.
“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”
“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.
“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.
“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”
“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”
“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”
“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.
You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.
#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna jjk#sukuna x you#sukuna jujutsu kaisen
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Summary: James might actually like Slytherins.
Poly!Starchaser x Reader (James Potter x Reader x Regulus Black) | 1.2k words
TW: mentions of Sirius leaving, getting kicked out(?), honestly not a lot I think
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ
When James started Hogwarts, he had a certain distaste for Slytherins. Never an outright hate, unlike his best mate, Sirius. But something about the house always put a sour taste in his mouth.
Maybe it was the stories Sirius shared of his family, or the way many of them seem to sneer at him, or maybe it was Severus Snape. He was never really sure. But, nevertheless, the Gryffindor seeker has always seemed to avoid Slytherins.
Until James’ sixth year at Hogwarts. The previous year, Sirius had left Black Manor for good (but if you ask James, Sirius had left closer to third year, the incident in fifth year just made it official).
All the Marauders know the story well, and all the boys know just as well how distressed Sirius was when Regulus didn’t take the chance to leave with him.
The refusal created a rift between the brothers—a big rift. Like the big crack in the earth muggles call grand that James never remembers the name of. And that rift lasted for the entirety of fifth year.
But the summer before their sixth year marked when Sirius couldn't take it anymore. So, the boys' sixth year marked when the Black brothers started mending their relationship.
And also when James became a pathetic mess for Regulus. Lily was the first to find out. Besides the boys, Lily was James' person. Once he finally got over the childhood crush he had on her, they became actual friends.
Regulus is just so…. Regulus. He's pretty, first of all, like, so pretty. James isn’t very poetic, but he reckons one of the romance books Remus has read wouldn’t even begin to describe how beautiful Regulus is. From his well-kept, dark hair to his gray eyes, which at times reminds James of The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. The same painting his mother has fawned over to him and his father many times. The poetically tragic painting.
And dear Merlin, he's so smart. James has shared very few classes with the boy, being one year apart makes it hard. But when they shared The Study of Ancient Runes, James became almost certain that he's attracted to people smarter than him, (which he realized greatly limited his dating pool because it can be a bit hard to find people smarter than him (save Remus, Lily, and now Regulus)). Don’t get the seeker started on how good Regulus is at quidditch, he could talk all day.
Honestly, not much changed with this crush when James met you. You had been friends with Regulus (and Crouch and Rosier, but that was irrelevant to James); maybe a little more; he wasn’t sure at the time; the little friend group had always seemed suspiciously close sometimes.
You. Oh Merlin, you. It made a lot of sense, at first glance, how you and Regulus got along. Both of you seem to be able to sit in silence, not needing a conversation every time you hang out, yet still having fun. But at the same time, James had seen you able to joke and have banter with Crouch and give half glares at Sirius when he was trying to borrow -steal- Regulus for a bit.
And finally, after months of talking to (mildly annoying) you too, the lot of you finally started dating. Even though Sirius nearly had a heart attack when he found out, either way, James has found himself walking to the Slytherins table before his own more often, and has found himself ducking from Crouch throwing potatoes at him even more regularly. James has also found himself sneaking into the Slytherin common rooms when he isn’t planning a prank. Like right now.
It's not exactly necessary to sneak into a common room. The way to get into most common rooms stays the same. Ravenclaws answer a riddle; Gryffindors have a password that changes semi-regularly; Hufflepuffs have changed a few times over the past few years, but right now you have to tap a barrel located in the kitchen space near the Hufflepuffs door. But, as it seems, the Slytherins seem to change more regularly.
Rarely just a simple password nor a rhyme or riddle. Though James likely doesn’t deserve the right to be annoyed by the constant changing because the Marauders pranks are often the reason for a change. And it's not like the boys exactly need a password to get in. Not when you have learned almost all of the secret passageways through the castle and can sneak in through one of them.
James finds a way down to the dungeons, with or without any password or trick, and makes his way to Regulus' dorm. When he gets there, he's presented with a loving, beautiful, and perfect view.
The dorm is free of Regulus’ dormmates, Crouch and Rosier, the only people who lay claim are you and Regulus. There you two lay, your head on his stomach, arms wrapped around his waist as your body lays between his legs, any closer and you'd be under his skin.
Regulus is lying back on his pillows, jumper far too red to belong to him. As one hand rests on the top of your head, the other lies abandoned. It’s clear both of you had been reading at some point; books lay abandoned nearby on the bed.
James could scream, squeal even, but instead he silently closes the door and locks it (the only people that would really need it are people with a key (Crouch, Rosier) or people who don't believe in locks (Sirius, and honestly, probably also Crouch and Rosier)).
James slips off his shoes near the bed, climbing onto the bed with the two of you.
“Love?” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair away from your face as he gently rubs your shoulder.
You shift, barely coherent, as you open your eyes the smallest amount to look at who woke you. They soften a tremendous amount when you register that James is in front of you.
“Hi, baby,” Salazar, his smile is so bright, he could make the Black Lake change its name with just a curl of the lips. “Your arms are gonna cramp if you don't move.”
James slowly draws your arms from under your shared boyfriend for you, limp like a liquid cat in his arms, and he somehow finds it the most endearing thing in the wizarding world.
The movement makes Regulus come to consciousness, opening his eyes much quicker than you did and already more alert than you. “Chéri?”
“Hello, love.” James drags your liquid body to the side of Regulus, instead of on him, and kisses his boyfriend's temple. Freeing a hand to smooth out his hair and stop him from getting up. “Go back to your nap, just moving you guys a bit so neither of you hurt.”
You are quick to go back to wrapping your arms around Regulus, now in a slightly less straining position, ready to go back to dreaming. James' smile might just grow impossibly founder.
James goes to the other side of Regulus, leaving you to cling to his left as James takes his right. “'S ‘kay to go back to sleeping.”
“I know.”
You reach one of your hands blindly and grab James’ arm, resting it there as the three of you drift back to a lovely sleep.
Maybe James has a taste for a type of Slytherin after all.
#marauders#marauders era#regulus black oneshot#regulus black one shot#regulus black imagine#regulus black#james x regulus#regulus black x y/n#regulus black x you#regulus black x reader#regulus black x gn reader#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x regulus black#poly!starchaser#poly!starchaser x reader#poly!jegulus x reader#poly!jegulus
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Time Flies (slowly) [LN4]
(Read part 1 here)
Summary: Years later, Lando hasn’t forgotten about the one that got away.
A/N: here is a happy ending after all the angst in part 1
There was so much anger and resentment, so much hatred, after the breakup. Lando's now ex-girlfriend had graduated medical school. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that the one person she wanted there with her, the man who had stayed by her side (even while across the world), wasn’t there.
But she was too proud to reach out, as was he. As Lando stalked her private instagram on one of his spam accounts she forgot to remove from her following, he felt the urge to call, or even just text a simple “congratulations, I am still unequivocally in love with you by the way”. Maybe that was too much though.
With a career like hers, she wasn't out of the clear once she graduated, she still had what felt like millenia left of training to do. So she threw herself into her career. She didn’t want to think about her ex, so she didn’t give herself time to think.
That worked for a while. Two years went by and she had been on top of her game. Training to work as an ER nurse had been difficult but rewarding. At first, only months after the breakup, she had a hard time but her philosophy of “working so hard you are too tired at the end of the day to think about how you lost the love of your life” had done her good for a while.
But, she had started to slowly fray at the edges. Sleeping just enough to sustain her but not enough to make her feel rejuvenated. Eating small meals to get her through the day but not enough to feel full. She thought she could get through it.
It wasn’t until she had a 22 year old that had gotten into a racing accident that she really realized how bad she had been feeling. All of the feelings she had been pushing down immediately came charging back up when she saw a tanned boy with curly brown hair. As she helped give him the medical care he needed, she kept reminding herself of the same thing, it's not Lando, Lando is okay, it's not Lando, Lando is fine. It wasn’t until she had tipped a cart full of sterilized tools over that she realized how much she was shaking. One of her coworkers, another nurse on her floor, had to drag her away while she insisted she was fine. She continued on, or at least tried to, until she had made a few too many minor mistakes and was forced to go home.
Walking into her flat, she made it just a few steps before she broke down. Exhaustion took over and she was unable to even get up after she cried herself to sleep right on the rug. Hours later she had finally gotten the energy to shower and then rot in bed. After what felt like eternity of staring at the ceiling, she grabbed her phone, hovering over the call button on Lando’s contact that she had been so unable to block, much less delete, over the past two years.
At what felt like rock bottom though, why not start digging some more?
Pressing the call button, she started to panic, wondering what she would say, till she finally heard his voice for the first time in years. “Hey, this is Lando, pretty busy at the moment, leave a message at the beep!” Voicemail. She had gained confidence for the first time in years and she was sent straight to voicemail.
It was loud in the club Lando was in. He had started off the night with friends at a nice restaurant and after enough drinks had been passed around, drinks that he declined, they ended up at the club they currently were in. Most of his company was off with their significant others, or dancing with people he just met, while Lando was sitting and talking to a woman who had confidently approached him earlier.
He didn’t feel the phone vibrating in his back pocket when he had his arm around her as they made small conversation. It wasn’t until he started to get nauseous from the smell of alcohol everywhere that he went to the bathroom to check his phone, seeing he had missed a call from the person he thought about the most, even after years apart.
Since the breakup, Lando had been a mess. It wasn’t his idea to break up. They had issues that they definitely needed to fix, issues they should have talked through instead of letting them snowball for so long, but it shouldn’t have ended the way it did. The minute they hung up those years ago he wanted to call her right back- no, he wanted to book a fight and see her immediately.
Maybe it was the hope that had ignited in him for the first time in forever, maybe it was the second hand intoxication from being in a club full of drunk people, but Lando pressed call back, praying to hear her voice.
She had had enough time to realize that calling him years after she broke up with him was a stupid decision to make, so of course after it got declined she turned her phone off for the night. She didn’t have anyone else who would contact her anyway.
Because of this, she missed the first call Lando made, then the next seven. It was like an addiction he quickly picked up. After that sliver of hope came back, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in.
He thought it might have been a mistake on her end, she did ignore the rest of his calls- scratch that, the line was immediately cut the moment he tried to call back.
But the little voice in his head kept saying ‘try again, maybe she will pick up, maybe there is hope’.
He didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He didn’t sleep the most of the next night either, not till he gave into the voice in his head and bought a plane ticket.
As Lando sat on the flight, his mind ran through some of his favorite memories over their relationship, then, once those ran out, he imagined what it would be like when he showed up on her doorstep once more. He’d have a lot to explain, like why he was suddenly on her doorstep of her new apartment he had no actual reason to know the address to, something he was given by a good mutual friend who was very tired about hearing both sides moaning about how single they were.
It was all a blur as he landed and swiftly ran through the airport. He hadn’t packed more than an overnight backpack, deciding if this went horribly he would immediately go home to mop around, and if it went amazing he’d figure something out.
Standing in front of her doorstep now, he quickly knocked before he lost all remaining confidence.
“Lando? What the fuck?” Was all she was able to get out. She would have felt insecure about how disheveled she looked if the man standing in front of her didn’t also look just as terrible.
“I know, I know. This makes no sense, I have no reason to be here, and it's weird that I know your address.” He replied, correctly guessing every question she had but not giving a single answer to any of them.
“At least you are self aware.”
“I had to see you, it was genuinely ruining my life. After you called and I missed it, I tried calling back for hours. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep because all I could think about was why you called. If you had needed help, if it was a buttdial, or if you finally wanted to speak to me as much as I needed to speak to you after these few years. It's so strange feeling so many feelings for someone you broke up with too long ago to still be in love with. That relationship- our relationship was so far from perfect, long distance was too hard for either of us so instead we just phoned it in and stopped trying. But I just really miss you and I really want to make this work.”
This was crazy, both of them realized. Crazy of him to travel to another country after missing one phone call, crazy to have hope after years of silence on both ends, crazy to think that they could mend a relationship they both had let fall apart without giving it a fighting chance. But this was that fighting chance, this was the moment that could make or break them.
But she didn’t have anything to say, she couldn’t think of anything to say. So, when she pulled him by the collar and kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed, she hoped that he got her message.
It would be a long road to recovery, but it would be worth it.
Tagging: @eviethetheatrefreak, @96jnie, @youreverydayfangirl, @jxnellat, @eringaitskill, @slytherinholland
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How did it end?
Summary: A flashback to the night that changed your lives forever.
Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.4k
Rating: T
Warnings: angst (so much angst), flashbacks, some really hurtful words, cursing, crying, pregnancy tests, Joel being a dick, Calvin being the best supportive brother
A/N: somehow I feel in my mind like this should have been worse, but I am sure you all do not feel like that at all so I'm sorry lol
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part three of invisible string
Even before the outbreak you dealt with your anxiety or with big life decisions the same way.
You were stress cleaning.
After walking out from Joel you made your way into the town centre, picking up your kids and then got back home where your brother Calvin was already trying to cook something but you mutually made the decision that you were gonna cook while he bathed the kids.
You both did not want him to burn the house down.
He wanted to ask you how it went, having run into Maria on his way home from the Patrol meeting, who had told her that you had been at the clinic to see Joel.
But this wasn’t the time or the place.
It ended up being a nice evening all things considered.
You had dinner, played some boardgames, read a good night stories to your kids and watched them sleep in their little beds until the nervous energy in your body left you walking back downstairs.
Once the house got quiet after the kids and you brother were asleep (he had an early morning with his first big day on Patrol the next day) you were alone with your thoughts.
And your thoughts were loud, and demanded to be heard.
So you went into the kitchen, took a look at all the cleaning supplies that were still stocked under the kitchen sink and got to work.
You started with the top of the kitchen cabinets, standing on the counter as you scrubbed what felt like centuries of dust off of them until you were satisfied and moved to inside the cabinets.
What a picture it would be if one of your new neighbours caught the crazy lady next door deep cleaning the kitchen at 2 am during the literal apocalypse.
Cleaning usually had the power to make the thoughts inside your head shut up.
But as you emptied the cabinets so you could clean them inside, your mind drifted to the last time you had tried to deal with whatever was going on in your life by extensively deep cleaning every surface around you.
The Outbreak might have been an excuse for many people to let things like cleaning the place where they lived become unimportant.
Which deep down it was of course.
Why have a clean kitchen when just down the street, behind the fences and walls the so called new government had pulled up, there were people and what once were people dying or fighting (or eating) each other?
But you always lived by the mindset of clean home, clean mind.
And what you desperately needed right now was a clean mind.
Two ten year old positive pregnancy tests you took this morning after feeling off for the last couple of weeks and missing you period were enough reason to freak out.
But you couldn’t freak out.
Joel would do that for you, you were sure.
That was, if he ever decided to come home to you again after being on a run with Tess for the last four days.
He hadn’t even told you or kissed you goodbye this time.
You had woken up to a note on the kitchen table telling you that he’d be gone on a run with Tess and he didn’t know how long.
Something about your husband had changed in the last few months.
It changed ever since Tommy left and Tess was his only influence outside of you. Not that you had much influence on anything he did nowadays.
It wasn’t like he was the most attentive men to begin with.
But you fell for him.
You fell for the complicated, traumatised and closed off man who to this day was the most handsome man you had ever met.
And deep down you knew he fell for you, mumbling his confessions of love into your skin when he thought you were asleep.
It was the way he looked at you.
The way he brought home a new book to read whenever he went out of the QZ.
The way he made you forget about the fucked up word outside of the walls you made your home whenever he gave you his full attention.
He wouldn’t have put a ring on your finger years earlier as you laid in his arms, asking you to be his until the day you both died, if he did not love you, would he?
You loved him, you loved him even when he seemed to make it his personal goal to make you hate him.
He used to be home every night in the beginning.
He used to love to spend time with you and you with him. Staying up just talking for hours if he wasn’t making love to you.
Because even when he was fucking you, it felt different. More… intense. More passionate.
He used to smile at you.
By now you couldn’t remember the last time he smiled at you now.
And by the time you had practically polished the whole shitty apartment you and Joel lived in it was dark outside and he still wasn’t home.
In hopes he would be home and it would lift his mood you had made dinner that now sat cold on the stove.
It was after 11pm and you were tired, having been in the bathroom brushing your teeth when you heard the door unlock and open.
A nervous flutter in your stomach made the dinner you had earlier almost come up but you took a deep breath, looking at yourself in the small mirror over the sink.
You were wearing one of Joel’s old worn flannels, his familiar scent in your nose.
What was the worst that could happen?
It was not like you could just turn back time?
You were pregnant and he just would have to deal with it.
Right?
You would never forget the way his eyes hardened once you said the words
„I am pregnant.“
He had been in a relatively good mood when you joined him in the small kitchen, having already taken his shoes and coat off, his hair damp from the rain outside.
It made you reconsider telling him for a tiny moment, wanting to just enjoy this with him. But maybe he would not react like you thought he would? Maybe he would be happy?
You wanted to ask a million question about how it went but you were too nervous, having instead kissed his cheek with a whispered „I miss you“ and then offered to warm up some food for him.
He had put his hand on your waist, his fingers brushing over your stomach as he went into the bathroom, his lips against your temple telling you that he would just take a quick shower.
It was after he ate, the table cleaned that you told him.
Sitting across from him at the tiny shitty table you had, your hands flat on the surface, the silence after you told him the news sickening.
His whole face had changed, expression hard, by the time he opened his mouth to speak.
„Is it mine?“ He asked and you just blinked at him, speechless, your head falling back as if he had slapped you, before you answered.
„What do you mean? Who else would it be? We’re married,“ you said and he scoffed.
„Doesn’t mean you don’t open your legs for anyone else while I’m gone,“ he sneered and you flinched at the accusation and the tone he used.
Sucking your bottom lip in you looked at your hands, still on the table, nodding your head slowly.
„Good to know what you think of me after all these years,“ you whispered, still trying to process his words.
„What did you think would happen? That I’ll be happy? Newsflash darlin’, this isn’t one of your dumb romance novels you keep reading,“ he said, before he brought his fist down on the table, making you jump. He got up from where he was sitting, walking over to the cabinet that held all the liquor he scavenged, opening the one bottle of original Jack Daniel’s and taking a long sip.
„You gonna get rid of it,“ he said and you looked at him.
„Excuse me?“ You asked.
„Don’t want no kids of mine in this fucked up world. And especially not with you,“ he said and you felt slapped again. One blow after the next coming from him. You crossed your arms in front of your stomach protectively.
You had imagined his reaction would be bad, but this wasn’t bad. This was destroying you.
„So that’s it, you don’t want a kid, and I have to just comply?“
„That’s exactly how it is, sweetheart,“ he grinned darkly at you, shaking his head and leaning against the wall and you desperately tried to find the tiniest part of the person you had fallen in love with as you looked at him.
But there was nothing left.
Maybe you just had been too blind to see it until now.
„I thought you loved me,“ you whispered, tears in your eyes.
„How can someone love you? You thought because I put a ring on your finger everything would be okay? We’d be a happy little family and live in this shitty apartment in this shitty QZ while the world around us is fucking dying? How did you think this would go?“ He asked.
„You made it sound like I planned this. Do you think I like this? Do you think I like being pregnant by a man who even though treated me like the fucking dirt beneath his shoes for the last months, was still the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with?“
„Then get rid of it and we can get back to it,“ he said and you scoffed.
„You really think things are gonna get back to how they were after you said all that?“ You asked.
He shrugged.
„Where would you go? You have no family. No friends. All you have is me,“ he said.
„And you’re so different? Who do you have? Tommy left because…“
„Do not talk about my brother,“ he threatened and glared at you.
You shook your head, taking a deep breath.
He was drunk.
This was not going anywhere.
This would never go anywhere.
„Things are not going to go back. I can find someone better than you on every corner,“ he said and you could not stop the sob that shook your body and you were pretty sure you could hear your heart breaking.
„I don’t love you. I never did,“ he said and the tears you had tried to hold in finally fell.
„Get rid of this, before I take care of it,“ he said, and a chill ran down your spine at his tone.
„And then get the fuck out of my life.“
You were in the last touches of finishing cleaning the kitchen when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
You hadn’t even noticed the tears until Calvin pulled against his chest, his hand running soothingly up and down your back.
„You wanna talk about it?“ He asked and you shook your head.
„Not yet. Not ever if I’m honest,“ you mumbled and he chuckled.
„Need to talk to him though,“ you said and leaned back, turning around to turn on the stove to heat up some water and make some tea for the both of you. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall you noticed that it was just before 5 am.
„Don’t need to do anything,“ he said and opened the fridge, getting the lunch he had prepared the day before for his day out and grabbing some stuff to make himself a sandwich.
„I can’t ignore him forever. As much as I would like to. He’s…. He’s here and he won’t go anywhere. Neither will we. So we have to…. Co-exist somehow.“
You both get to your tasks before you both sat down at the table, you with two mugs of tea, one for him, him with two sandwiches, one which he pushed towards you.
„You still love him,“ your brother said after a while and you sighed, looking up at him.
„Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’l ever be able to forgive him for everything that happened,“ you smiled sadly.
„Well,“ your brother said before he got up and put his plate in the sink.
„Then you should talk to him and tell him that so you can both move on with your lives.“
You followed him towards the front of the house where he put his shoes on and checked if he had everything in his little backpack for this first patrol.
„What if he wants to be in their lives?“ You asked, nodding upstairs to where both your children were still sleeping.
„Do you think he wants to? He made himself pretty clear from what you’ve told me,“ Calvin said.
„I don’t know. It’s been a long time and he seemed…. He seemed really sorry? I just….“ You took a deep breath, shaking your head.
„Nope. I am not gonna spend any more time thinking about Joel Miller. I’m gonna go upstairs and take a two hour nap and then I’m gonna go and explore our new home while my children are learning stuff in an actual school,“ you said.
„There you go!“ Calvin grinned.
„Be safe today!“ You said, grinning back and hugged him quickly.
„You too,“ he smiled, before he opened the door, your face falling as you saw Joel stand on the porch, his hand held up in a fist as if he was about to knock.
„I’m here to pick you up for patrol? Tommy’s gotta stay home today,“ Joel said as he looked between you and your brother.
„Well that is gonna be fun,“ Calvin said, winking at you, before he stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him, giving Joel no chance to try to say anything more if he wanted to.
You watched them through the window next to the door as they walked down the porch and then down the street until they were out of sight.
Letting your shoulders fall while you exhaled with a sigh you shook your head before you made your way upstairs.
This was gonna be a long day.
#my fic#Joel Miller x fem. reader#Joel Miller#Pedro Pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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HALF RETURN part one
pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.
warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking
“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”
You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”
“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”
She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.
Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.
Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.
“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”
“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”
“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”
Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.
For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.
“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”
“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”
🎾 ⊹ ‧
“Hey.”
You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.
Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.
It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.
“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.
“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”
“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.
“She was totally into you.”
Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”
“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”
“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”
“How have you been?”
Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.
“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”
You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.
“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”
“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”
“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.
“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”
🎾 ⊹ ‧
When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.
From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.
After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.
“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.
“Hi Park.”
He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”
“You’re really over it?” You question.
“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”
“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”
Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”
You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.
“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”
Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.
“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.
“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”
“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.
“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”
His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”
“Understood what?”
“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”
And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen texts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen ff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enhypen au#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon x you#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon angst#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon
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the younger morgan
alex morgan x morgan!USWNT!reader
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six
Growing up in the Morgan household, I was always known as my own individual person. Y/n Morgan. I am described by my peers as someone who’s kind, sensitive, and humble. However, to some of the public and people who barely know of me, I am known as "Alex Morgan's little sister."
It wasn't a title I despised while growing up. Being born 14 years after her, I was adopted by the Morgans at birth. My sister and parents have been my family for my entire life, even if we aren’t blood. They’ve surrounded me in a blanket of love while supporting my athletic, famous sister at the same time.
Alex won her first World Cup in 2015 when I was eleven. I remember sitting in the stadium, the air electric with cheers and chants, watching her lift that trophy high. Having my sister as my idol while growing up was a blessing that most girls would dream of.
The pride I felt was immense, but it was always mixed with a yearning.
I played as a striker while growing up, just like Alex. My feet scored goals in every match i’ve had minutes in. By the time I was old enough to transition into taking soccer seriously, it was clear I had inherited the Morgan soccer genes, even if I wasn’t blood-related.
With the best coaches in the country guiding me, I quickly became one of the best U21 strikers in the world, just like Alex. Success in high school championships, the USYNT national team (before my senior team call up in November 2022), and in my first year of college landed me a spot on the San Diego Wave alongside my sister. I forfeited my college eligibility so I can jump into taking soccer seriously, which I did.
Yet, I hide the fact that the inevitable comparisons to Alex bothered me. Anytime I made a mistake, I had people on social media saying that “Alex at your age would’ve never made that mistake!” and more that were way harsher and mean. I felt a hollowness inside me because I had to accept that San Diego wasn’t the club for me. Something I didn’t realize until half-way into the season.
This wasn't about the love or support I received from my family or the fans. It was about forging my path, I wanted to be my own person away from Alex. I love her so much, but I wanted people to see me for who I really am. I needed a moment which would give me the reassurance that my career was truly mine.
One afternoon, after a particularly grueling training session, I collapsed onto my soft beige colored couch for a nap. I knew I had plans with Jaedyn, Naomi, and Maria later— but I knew I could fit in a good three hour nap before I had to get ready for the night. However the ring of my phone jolted me awake after an hour into my nap. My eyebrows knitted at the sight of my agent's name, Maggie, flashing on the screen.
Usually, Maggie never calls unless we are discussing deals or contract negotiations. However, I asked her two weeks ago if she could contact SD Wave about putting me on the transfer market. Maggie said that wasn’t needed since there was something else that would excite me– but she didn’t explain what.
"Y/n, I have some exciting news!!!" Maggie began without giving me the chance to say hi, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as I clicked on the speaker option. I rubbed my tired eyes trying to pay attention to what she’s gonna say.
“What happened?” I ask, sitting up from my laid down position and sitting criss-crossed on my couch.
"You know how you asked about a possible transfer? Well I already had a few offers coming in for you before you asked—'' Maggie started as I heard a few clicks on her side of the call, I’m assuming she's clicking stuff on her computer while on the phone with me.
“So– *click*--- *click* — okay! There are a lot of NWSL clubs that have put in an offer for you. Houston, Gotham, Orlando, Kansas, and Washington have sent in their offers— but I understand that you wanted to go to Europe, is that correct?” Maggie says as I bite the skin around my nail beds. Growing up, I’ve always admired European clubs and the different cultures Europe has. Playing in Europe would expose me to a better challenge that I’ve wanted in my career. A good chance to (hopefully) play in the Champion’s League too, another thing my sister won in 2017.
“Yes, that is correct.” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible. I am nervous, knowing that this call could change my life.
“Okay- well that's amazing because several European clubs are interested in you. You have many clubs to choose from— Chelsea, Manchester City, Arsenal, Tottenham, Real Madrid, Madrid CFF, PSG, Wolfsburg— those clubs in particular all offered you a contract. Barcelona showed interest too but you’re not a free agent and due to their financial struggles, they cannot sign you unless you were free. However—- Bayern Munich in Germany offered you a very great deal– a four year contract with add ons—the salary they’re offering along with the add-ons is way better than all of the others. I feel like you would love this club." Maggie commented. Outside of work, Maggie and I had a somewhat good relationship for people who try to remain professional. Maggie had a good intuition and can read people, which means that she knows how I work and how my personality is in detail.
Hearing about the clubs– my heart pounded in my chest at Bayern Munich. The name alone sent a feeling inside of my body that I couldn’t explain. I placed my hands on my forehead as I felt overwhelmed from the amount of clubs I could choose from. However, my curiosity and intuition wanted to look more into the Bayern Munich offer.
“Maggie— I can’t lie—Bayern Munich is sticking to me right now.” I say, dragging out my last words as my voice breaks into a yawn. Training was intense today.
“Okay! Okay! Here’s what we can do— I can come over now and drop off the documents to you— you can look over them and we can have an in-person meeting on your day off from training next Thursday at lunch, deal?” Maggie said. I can sense her smile through the phone call as I felt relieved from having to make such a quick decision. It's Friday so I have six days to make a final decision.
"Deal," I said, barely able to handle the fact that my nervousness turned into small excitement. I couldn’t tell anybody about this but that was okay with me.
Thursday came and I chose to move to Munich in June. I can spend the season, before the olympics, with San Diego then i’ll move to play for Bayern on the four-year contract afterwards. I couldn’t tell anybody the news until I got the green-light to do so from Maggie.
Keeping this news from Alex and my friends was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Alex was not just my sister but also my mentor and my rock. But I knew I had to wait until everything was finalized before telling her. She should understand that part. Meanwhile, rumors swirled online, speculating about my potential move to Europe in the month afterwards.
One evening as I played with Charlie, in Alex's living room, I could feel the weight of my secret growing heavier. I look at my niece with a light smile as she colored in a fairytale themed coloring book I got her last christmas. I am going to miss seeing her every-week when I move to Germany.
Eventually, Alex finished what she had to do in her kitchen and picked up Charlie. The little girl complained before her mother explained that it was late and it was time for bed. Its 8:30 which wasn’t late in my eyes but Charlie is a child so—
After Alex put Charlie to bed, and after I cleaned up after Charlies crayon mess, she joined me in the living room and sat beside me on the couch, her expression serious.
"Y/n— we have to talk.” Alex said. My nerves were on fire hearing Alex say that. I knew she was going to mention Bayern— I can’t hide it anymore. The rumors on social media are increasing and everyone knows my move to Munich is inevitable, even if I haven’t addressed it yet.
“I know.” I respond, my right leg is crossed over my left one as I cross my arms together.
“Are the rumors online true? You know I don’t like to search the media for answers, but the rumors are increasing and everyone is positive that they’re correct on their suspicions— Are you leaving here to play for Bayern?" Alex asked, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I couldn’t lie to her "Yes, Alex, they're true. I'm going to play Bayern Munich in June."
After saying this, I thought Alex would be happy for me right away.
However, her concern was palpable. "But why, Y/n? Why are you moving so far away? We have everything here."
"That's why, Alex," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. "I need to do this for myself. I want a new challenge and seeking something new has been my goal for since the off-season. I need to know if I can make it—-- without always being compared to you." I struggled to say the last part.
The argument that followed was heated but subdued, mindful of Charlie sleeping nearby. Alex didn't understand my need to step away, to find my own path.
“Everyone knows you’re a great player, you have a higher record than me this season!! You don’t need to leave the country.” Alex argued.
“Well you played for Lyon and Spurs at one point, which is outside of America—- the NWSL isn’t the only league in the world and I need to grow. If your concern is about safety, I promise i’ll be able to take care of myself. I need this Alex— You know I am a responsible person!” I stood up from the couch. Alex followed and looked at me with concern.
“You are– I’m not saying you’re not responsible– but you’re going to leave everything behind!”
“No I am not? I will always come back during International breaks!” I argue.
“Okay– but you shouldn’t “need” to move to Germany. You’re going to leave your friends behind too Y/n!” Alex continued to argue. My blood boiled at her words.
"You know, Why can’t you just be supportive!!?? I can’t do this anymore–” I say as I ran to put on my shoes by the door, grabbing my tote bag with all of my items inside.
“I'm glad I'm moving away Alex. Maybe they'll respect me as a good player and my own person– and not just Alex Morgan's sister!" I stormed out of her apartment, the rift between us widening.
We didn't speak after that night. Even at training with the San Diego Wave, we maintained a professional distance, our conversations limited to the bare necessities or anything related to Charlie. The silence was deafening, but I was resolute. This was my decision to play for Bayern, she needs to respect it.
When the SheBelieves Cup came around, Alex and I both made the roster, as usual. This was my last international break as a San Diego player. Since i’ll be living in Germany by the time the Korea friendlies happen in June.
On the national team, I found solace in my closest friends Jaedyn, Sophia, Trinity, and Mallory. Jaedyn plays at San Diego with me so she has a better understanding about the situation. I told her that I am moving to Munich and we had a bittersweet moment, at least she was supportive of my decision. All of the other girls sensed something was wrong but respected my need for space, assuming that they shouldn’t come in-between family business. Especially if one of their captains is involved.
On the pitch against Japan for the first she-believes game, my performance was excellent on the pitch. In my mind, I knew I wanted to do good so Bayern fans would be excited about my transfer to their club.
After scoring twice against Japan, we were now in a penalty shootout with Canada. This is the second-time we’ve gon into penalties this year together. Once in the gold-cup a few months back.
Emily Fox made the penalty against the Canadian goalkeeper, and the next Canadian kicker’s shot was blocked by Alyssa (Secretary of Defense). Everyone looked in my direction as the ball was passed into my hands. If I make this shot, I win the shebelieves cup for the United States.
My hearts pounded like a drum in my cheat as I looked ahead at Kailen, my San Diego teammate and friend who plays for Canada. She knows how I kick, and I know how she blocks shots coming her way.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside of me. I had practiced penalty shots countless times throughout my time in soccer, but this was different. This was the final. This was for the win.
The referee blew the whistle, signaling it was time for me to shoot. My body stepped forward, and my mind was clear. As I closed in on the ball, I locked eyes with Kailen, who was poised and ready, her eyes fierce with determination.
My foot struck the ball cleanly, sending it soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow as the ball arced towards the goal, the world holding its breath. Kailen dove to her right, stretching out in a desperate bid to stop the shot.
But it was too late. The ball sailed past her outstretched fingers and hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud. The crowd erupted in a roar of triumph, the sound crashing over me like a wave. I scored the winning goal!
Before getting a chance to process what had happened, my teammates rushed towards me. All of their faces showed joy and relief. They enveloped me in a jubilant embrace, lifting me off her feet as we celebrated the victory together. I looked around, taking in the ecstatic faces of my friends, the adoring fans, and the sparkling lights of the stadium. I looked to my right and saw my sister’s bright smile looking towards me, this made my heart warm up a little bit.
After everyone broke away from me, before the trophy celebration and the part where I’ll be rewarded as SheBelieves MVP, Alex approached me. Her expression was softer than the last time i’ve talked to her at her apartment. Her eyes reflected a mix of hope, sadness and understanding.
"Y/n, can we talk?"
I nodded, and we found a quiet spot away from the rest of the team on the pitch.
"I'm sorry," she began. "I was selfish. I was thinking about how much Charlie and I would miss you, not about what you need."
Her words broke the dam of emotions I'd been holding back. "I know. But Alex— I just want to be seen for who I am, Alex. Not just as your little sister."
She pulled me into a hug, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace. "You will be, Y/n. You'll be amazing, and I am so proud of you and that gorgeous penalty kick." Alex squeezed me and I laughed at her gesture.
“Thank you, Thank you! I have the best sister who showed me what good penalty kicks are.” I smile.
As the middle of June approached, after the Korea friendlies, I prepared for my move to Germany with a mix of excitement and nerves. Alex and I grew closer again, our bond strengthened by the fact that this new routine will give us a chance to miss eachother.
The day I boarded the plane to Munich, with three suitcases and one carry on bag with everything I need for my apartment I found while spending a week in Munich last month— Alex was there, cheering me on.
“I’ll miss you sweetheart.” Alex hugged me. I hugged her back before hugging my smaller niece who stood beside us. "I will miss you both the most." I respond.
Later as the plane took off, I looked out the window, my heart full of hope. This was my chance to prove myself to the world and to the fans that I am more than just my sister.
-----
part two here
<3
#alex morgan#jaedyn shaw#uswnt x reader#uswnt players#uswnt imagine#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#san diego wave#nwsl#nwsl 2024#she believes cup#bayern frauen#bayern munich
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wip wednesday
been tagged so many times recently and ily all 💕 life outside the Tumblr has been asjsfdhlkjklads 🫠 recently and idk that I will be around much but I have a little bit of fluffy Buddie cuteness for you. Still forever working on the Unless finale 🫠🫠
@eddiebabygirldiaz @hippolotamus @tizniz @daffi-990 @suavecitodiaz @hoodie-buck @kitteneddiediaz @ronordmann @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @rainbow-nerdss @littlerosetrove @exhuastedpigeon @messyhairdiaz @smilingbuckley @blutterlie @astronaut-karenwilson @spaceprincessem @bekkachaos 💕 to you all
It’s been a whole month. Buck wakes up and Eddie’s still tangled in his arms, and they’ve been together for a month. Four whole weeks. Buck has been able to kiss him and unabashedly love him and he gets to be Eddie’s partner in every way.
The first thing Eddie does— because of course he woke up first— is prop himself on an elbow and run his fingers through Buck’s hair while smiling down at him.
Every other thought, feeling, memory, piece of knowledge that has ever been in Buck’s head immediately goes out the window. The way Eddie looks at him, so soft and adoring with so much fondness, no one has ever looked at Buck this way. There are so many years of closeness and affection, so many moments where everything was falling apart but they held onto each other and made it through anyway despite all of it. Eddie looks at him, and Buck doesn’t just feel beautiful and wanted and needed. He knows he’s loved. He knows how deep it goes. He feels how unbreakable this bond is between them.
When has love ever felt like this?
Buck grins back at him, sure the look on his face is absolutely stupid with gooey fondness. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Eddie’s smile widens and he does that huff of a laugh thing that happens when he’s incredibly amused. “Hi, love.”
A rush of sugar pours through Buck's veins. They call each other all kinds of things, and Buck loves every one. They’re so— every name is bursts of joy that make his heart stronger, faster, fuller. He doesn’t know how to pick a favorite. But “love” is way up there. One of if not the best.
Buck tips his head up toward Eddie. “Are you thinking about kissing me? Because I am thinking about you kissing me. I think you should. I really think you should. Since you’re so gorgeous and I’m your love and everything.”
Eddie laughs, actually laughs and it’s the sweetest most incredible sound ever, and then he cups Buck’s face with a large, warm palm and presses their mouths together. It’s not soft. It’s solid, intent, too eager to be controlled. “Happy one month, baby,” Eddie whispers before kissing him again and the bright rush of joy that captures Buck’s heart is too much to handle.
“The happiest,” Buck grins and giggles like he’s far closer to Chris’ age than his own, like he could be a kid all over again, falling for someone for the first time and reliving every first he’s ever had because he’s never had firsts with so much love behind them.
Eddie nods and then kisses Buck’s cheek and settles on top of him, tucking his face right against Buck’s. He runs a hand over Buck’s hair until he’s simply cradling him like Buck is precious. It doesn’t feel like anything else. Buck is precious and irreplaceable. Buck is wanted in so many ways. Not just for sex. Not because of what Eddie wants out of Buck. Eddie just loves him and wants him around, which sounds like such a simple, tiny thing, but since when does this happen? When does Buck ever get to feel like this?
When has love ever been something Buck didn’t have to question?
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The Guest House - Chapter 10
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.
The Guest House Master List
Word Count: 3,180
A/N: Know it's been a while and appreciate everyone's patience!
It takes a little over an hour for Dean to finish up the two cars. Having been taught your lesson, you handed Dean the correct tools he requested, though he did remember to say “please” each time he asked.
From time to time he would explain what he was working on, not that it meant much to you, but you were starting to pick up on a few things, which you were hoping to take home with you so you wouldn’t feel so helpless the next time you went to get an oil change.
“So how did you even meet Rick?” You lean against a pillar as Dean rolls out from the Stingray, shutting off his head lamp as he stands. He lets out a chuckle at your question.
“I’ve actually known him most of my life.” Dean gently rests against the hood, crossing his arms.
You just raise your eyebrows, hoping he’ll elaborate.
“My dad used to come here all the time growing up, and so did Rick.” He continues. “They were around the same age and they kept in touch as they got older. My dad used to bring us up here when we were kids. I loved it, but Sam and my mom would spend our visits up here swimming at the lake, but my dad and I would be sitting in those bleachers.” He points out the windowed garage door to the grand stands.
“It would be July and it could be 120 degrees between the heat and the cars, but there was nowhere else we’d rather be.” He reminisces with a smile but he keeps his eyes on his oil-stained boots.
“Rick is cut from the same cloth. He stopped coming around as I got older, got busy with his fancy life in the city, but when he ended up buying this place, he reached out to my dad and I, would get us in the ‘VIP’ suite, which were just his seats. He was excited when he found out I started working in Bobby’s shop, and then a couple years later he called me up to take a look at a vintage car he was going to buy. Said he had hired a guy but didn’t trust his report, so needed someone he could count on. I was just twenty-one, but he trusted every word I said, and I’ve been working for him ever since.”
You smile across at Dean, not that he sees it. Whether intentionally or not, Dean was opening up to you, more of him becoming unraveled. And there’s one question you’ve been wanting to ask him for weeks now, and you finally felt comfortable enough with him to post it.
“And what’s the deal with you and Nick?” You ask quietly, nervous that you may be overstepping, but hell, he brought you to a weekend away at his mom’s house. You were well past acquaintance status.
You think back to that night at Max’s, your first week here, when you had gotten cozy with the blonde-haired beau before Dean had stepped in. Before Dean gave a shit about you, he did that night. And you always wondered why.
Dean takes in a deep breath, keeping his eyes downcast.
“It started back in high school. It was just teenage stuff; he was the football star, I played basketball. We were both really competitive and it was just a lot of stupid ego stuff. But when Sammy started high school my senior year, Nick took an interest in him, and decided to make Sam’s life hell because of me. He bullied the poor kid almost every day. So I took it upon myself to make sure he never bothered Sam again.” A smirk slowly begins to rise. “Got suspended for a week because of it and almost wasn’t allowed to walk graduation, but it was worth it.”
“And what exactly did you do?” His eyes flash up to you, a devilish gleam in them.
“I may or may not have rigged his airbags to go off when he turned the radio on one day after school.”
You blanch.
“You can do that?” Dean nods.
“But how did they know that was you? Even if he suspected you, there would have been no way to prove it.”
“Because I was waiting for him in the parking lot and after they went off, I pulled him out of the car and told him if he ever bothered Sammy again I would cut his brakes and make it look like an accident.” Dean doesn’t flinch at the threat, and neither do you. You had two younger siblings, both brothers. You understood. Being the older sibling also meant being the protector, and you had stepped in from time to time when your brothers needed it.
Dean looks back to you.
“That was the end of it though. Never bothered me or Sam again.” He wipes his hands against each other before shoving them in the pockets of his coveralls.
“Well I guess I really do owe you for saving me from ‘the town’s biggest asshole’ then.” You smile at him, using his own words from that night. Words you had thrown back at him in rash rage.
“I would say so.” He agrees, pushing off the car and closing the gap between you. Your eyes stalk the movement, not missing a step until he stops an arm’s length from you. His eyes have that devilish sparkle that twists your stomach in the best way.
“And what exactly do you have in mind?” You challenge, standing up straighter even though your knees feel weak.
“How about dinner?” His voice is low, shared only between the two of you even though there’s no one else around.
Your eyes widen.
“You���re asking me out?” You gawk, practically breathless. His lips slowly curve up and he doesn’t break your gaze.
“I’m saying you can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner.” Your face and stomach drop, irritation rising like bile up your throat.
“Are you serious?” You cross your arm and drop your hip.
“Sure am, sweetheart.” He purrs. You respond with a heavy breath out of your nose.
“I literally just bought you lunch the other day.” You snap. “Explain to me why it’s my responsibility to keep feeding you?” You bite, ignoring the fact that you had bought him lunch the other day as a thank you for taking you hiking. But he didn’t need to be reminded of that.
Instead of waiting for an answer, you side step from him and walk towards the exit.
“Where are you going?” Dean calls from behind you. You turn on your heel and stare him down.
“Aren’t you done?” You huff, crossing your arms again. “I was headed back to the car.” You throw your thumb over your shoulder.
Dean just annoyingly smiles back at you.
“We’re not taking the truck.” You raise your eyebrows.
“What are we going to walk back?” You retort.
Dean turns on his heel in response and walks further into the garage.
You wait a second, then two, to see if he’s going to turn around, but he doesn’t. You tap your foot, but Dean still doesn’t turn back.
You drop your arms with a heavy breath and start after him, following him a few stalls down until you see him leaning into the open door of a shining black car, the body sleek and clearly not from this century.
“Is this another one of Rick’s?” You step up to the hood, tempted to reach out and run your fingers down the polished onyx.
“Nope,” Dean’s voice is muffled through the windshield as he rummages around inside.
“Can you answer a question that doesn’t require me to continue asking you questions?” You scowl, starting to have enough of this little game of his.
His laugh just echoes as he pushes out of the car and rests on the open door.
“Remember I told you about my baby?” You squint your eyes, the conversation ringing a vague bell.
You suck in a breath.
“Your car.” You snap your finger then point it at him and it comes back to you, remembering how absurd you thought it was when Dean shared he called his prized car “baby.”
Dean raises his eyebrows with a smile, opening his arms wide.
“Y/N, meet Baby. Baby, meet Y/N.” You frown at his exaggerated antics.
“Please don’t make me say “hi” to the car.” You groan, wondering exactly how much Dean loves this car.
Dean pats the hood and leans in.
“Don’t worry, Baby. She can be nice when she wants to be.” He coos. Your eyes bulge and mouth gapes.
“Should I be concerned about you? Is this what happens when you spend your life around car fumes?” You cross your arms, half kidding.
Dean just looks back at you with a grin.
“Get in the car will ya?” He orders before he dips down and plops into the driver’s seat and closes his car.
You stare at him for a moment through the windshield as he fiddles with something.
Aunt Rose, help me. You say up a silent prayer before you walk around the car and take a seat onto the white leather bench.
The inside is immaculate; conditioned, tan upholstery, a shining steering wheel, and a dashboard expertly restored to its former glory.
You run a hand along the felt ceiling, the fibers tickling your fingertips.
“You really built this car?” You ask in awe as you continue to take in the refurbished wonder.
Dean presses a button on a clicker attached to his visor, and the garage door in front of you begins to rise, sun chasing in through the windshield.
“Sure did,” Dean turns the key in the engine, the car roaring to life before Dean flicks down the gear shift into drive. “Got her in a scrap yard for a couple hundred bucks, then would use my paychecks from the shop to buy her new parts. Took me over three years. Which is why I keep her here.” Dean slowly pulls out of the garage, waiting for the car to clear before he hits the clicker again, shutting the door behind us.
You smile out the window as you slowly make your way down the empty race track towards the exit.
“If you love her that much why not just drive her all the time?” You play with the leather armrest that connects to the door. “Seems like a waste to just leave it in a garage all the time.” You muse.
You don't have many mantras in life, but one you strongly believed in not waiting to enjoy something. Your parents had saved an expensive bottle of champagne for you as a graduation present. They had won it in an auction years before and never had a good reason to open it and figured celebrating your matriculation would be the right time to finally pop it open. By the time they did, it had gone bad and your dad shook his head as he poured it down the drain.
“Cause I ain’t risking a dent or scratch in her after all the time I put into fixing her up.” Dean waves at the gate agent as you pass through the exit, and you give him a smile as well.
“I’m just saying. What’s the point of having a beautiful car like this if you’re just going to keep her hidden away? You’re like an overprotective father.” You chuckle as you look back out the window at the passing scenery of bare trees and dead grass. March truly was an ugly month.
You look over to Dean, catching his gaze for a moment before it returns to the road, a smirk his only answer.
Without a word, Dean leans his foot heavily onto the gas pedal, the needle on the speedometer quickly climbing as the outdoor world begins to blur by.
His heart jumps into his throat and his smile grows as the car continues to pick up speed. He wants to glance at Y/N, see her reaction, but he’s not reckless, not enough to take his eyes off the straightaway as the Impala ticks past 80 MPH.
He hears you take in a breath, but it’s not a gasp, doesn't sound scared or shocked, and he’s hoping you’re feeling the same excitement that he is as he shoots down the street, the engine rumbling through the front seat as he darts down his own personal racetrack that he’s driven down more times than he can count.
Which is why he takes his foot off the gas, letting the needle fall before they come up to the bend that takes them back into town.
It was only a few seconds, mere heartbeats, but it always makes Dean feel alive.
Once the car is at a manageable speed, he peeks over to you – your hand is braced against the door, but your smile is wide in a silent laugh. He swallows at the sight, a lump growing in his throat before he looks back to the road, taking the turn at an easy speed.
“I know it doesn’t quite compare after Rick took you through the racetrack today, but every time I take Baby out of the garage, I’ve gotta run her.” He beams, triumph heavy in his chest as he shows off his pride and joy, feeling a pure sense of excitement that he truly hasn’t felt in years.
Dean looks back over to you, your hair swishing as you shake your head.
“No,” you breathe out with a smile. “That was great.”
Dean releases a deep breath through his nose he didn’t realize he was holding. Almost like he was worried about your answer.
“Still think you should take her out more.”
Dean just smirks, revving the engine again and letting the car fly.
After Dean brings them to a roadside burger stand for lunch, they’re back at Mary’s house. Y/N had excused herself for a shower, and Mary and Dean lounge in the living room, the sun setting behind the windows, while Dean scrolls through social media on his phone.
“Nice day out?” Mary asks from the couch across from him, a book in her lap.
Dean takes a breath and puts his phone down, hearing her tone. The same tone she had in the kitchen this morning when she was inquiring more about the woman he brought home.
Not taking the bait, he simply replies, “Good. Managed to get all of Rick’s cars done in just about two hours. He’s all ready for tomorrow.” Mary just rolls her chartreuse eyes.
“And Y/N?” She asks bluntly. “How was your day with her?”
He knows what his mother is fishing for. Outside of the odd high school fling, Lisa was the only woman he had ever brought home. And here he was, with Y/N, some random girl he met only a few weeks ago, brought here by his ex, showering just upstairs.
The thought lights something in his eyes as his gaze leaves the living room, thinking of the blue and white bathroom he was so familiar with, the lengthy standup shower, enough room for two, where Y/N was probably lathering soap all over —-
“Dean.” Mary chirps, almost like she can see her son’s thoughts on his face.
“What?” He snaps, heat flushing his neck and cheeks, feeling like a caught child.
Mary just sighs and moves her book aside, leaning forward and resting her arms on her jean-clad knees.
“Don’t even start, mom.” He can see the conversation she wants to have.
“You’re the one who brought her here.” She counters. He rubs a hand down his face and leans back against the cushion.
“Look, I’m just trying to be friendly. She and I started off on a really bad foot, and I’m stuck with her for the month. Also, when I invited her, I never thought she’d actually say yes. I was more being polite.” Which was true, but doesn’t change the fact that when he got her text that she was going to join him for the weekend, his stomach flipped.
“She just quit her job and lost her aunt.” He continues on thoughtlessly. “She’s spending a month in a place where she knows no one. I’m just trying to be nice.” He sighs, crossing his arms across his chest.
A soft, but sad smile graces Mary’s lips, and she leans back.
“Well then, I’m very proud of you.” Dean starts to smile, but it doesn’t fully form. He looks across at his mother. “What?” She offers him back a similar smile.
“Just sounds like the two of you may have come together at the right time is all.” Dean frowns as he hears the telltale creak of pipes as the water upstairs shuts off.
“What does that mean?” He huffs.
“Well it sounds like she’s going through some big life changes, and so are you.” She offers gently.
“Oh here we go.” Dean rolls his eyes, his fists tightening.
“Huff and pout all you want, Dean.” Mary chastises her oldest son, who was always the most stubborn of her two boys. “But I think it’s nice that you two found each other when you're both going through a difficult time.” Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes again, knowing if he does, it will draw another chide from his mother.
“Fine,” he concedes. “It’s nice.” He placates his mother, hoping to end the conversation.
He’s not a charity case. He’s going through a divorce, just like 50% of married people. He’s not the first and he’s certainly not the last. He doesn’t need her pity. Or yours. Not that you’ve offered it.
Soft footsteps echo overhead, Y/N likely padding down the hallway back to her room. Probably in nothing but a towel.
“It’s just nice to see you happy again, Dean. Been a while since I’ve seen it.” Dean unfurls at her words, his body slumping with a sigh.
He’s being a dick. To his mother.
What an asshole.
He runs his hand down his face again.
Mary stands and steps around the coffee table, stopping in front of her sullen son. She rests a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t fight something nice just because you don’t think you deserve it.” She gives him a squeeze. After a moment, she steps away with a pat to his shoulder before she goes.
“I’m going to run to the store and pick up dinner. Any requests?” Dean opens his mouth. “Besides pie.” Mary beats him to it.
“All good.” Mary nods her head.
“I’ll be back in a little bit.” This time, Dean nods, quietly listening as Mary grabs her keys from the kitchen before stepping out the front door.
He hears Y/N move about upstairs again as Mary’s car comes to life in the driveway.
But Dean just relaxes on the couch, rests his head back, and closes his eyes.
Forever Tags
@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @magssteenkamp
#dean x reader#dean winchester#dean imagine#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean x y/n#dean winchester fanfiction#the guest house
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Tony Bramwell, on Yoko
- gradually, inch by inch she intruded into our lives
- It was hardly surprising that John felt some kind of electricity; but it was probably the air crackling with Yoko’s desperation
- If I were standing about with him, Yoko would come up to me and say something in her high little girl’s voice, perhaps hoping to get John to notice her [...]. John would walk off to talk to someone else, while she stared after him. In those days, Yoko was always staring after John.
- She wanted to possess John and she was the one who was exceptionally jealous. She could not cope with the fact that John could love three other guys.
- her piece de resistance, the much-reprised performance of “Cut Piece.” The scissors were wired for sound, so every cut had a horrific, almost animal sound, like a beast crunching into its human prey.
- did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. [...] Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania.
- Overnight, he no longer had a will of his own.
- ...an attempt to use Primal Scream Therapy under Arthur Janov by telephone, to free him from his heroin addiction...
- Sir Joe said he didn’t think the pictures were obscene, he had seen much worse, an opinion which confused John and Yoko. They wanted to be seen as avant-garde and enfants terribles.
- Yoko had no sense of humour at all and she loathed Phil as much as Phil hated her. Each of them was implacable and paranoid.
- I used to dread taking John and Yoko’s arty stuff into radio stations and asking them to play it. For me, it was a bad experience because it was unplayable and unlistenable. [...] The reaction was a bored, “Why are you bringing this crap to us?” At first I argued with radio producers about it, though not on a very artistic level. I even heard myself saying, “Because he pays my wages. That’s why!” It was so embarrassing.
- As far as Yoko was concerned, if you spout all this magical, healing, antiwar, be kind to everybody, all-seeing, all-caring, all-macrobiotic stuff, being pregnant on heroin would seem to be the last thing she would need. And how does all that stuff equate with shooting up smack? How does all that spiritual pontificating gel with the teaspoon and the needle, unless you’re a fraud?
- According to John, Yoko snorted [heroin], but I had no doubt that if she had used a needle, she would probably have said it was acupuncture.
- John used to like life. He used to like to get on a roll. Laugh, eat and drink. [...] proper breakfasts, an old-fashioned fry-up, pie and chips, fish and chips, fried chicken, a roast dinner on a Sunday, Chinese food, curry, spaghetti Bolognese. Everything. Then he met Yoko, grew his beard, and [...] from Irish navvy’s food, he went to heroin and macrobiotics. I think if Yoko had said it was spiritual to snort bean curd instead of eat it John would have done it.
- She and John used to whisper away in their corner, with a completely different, us-against-the-world perspective to everyone. I know they did, because filming quietly on the sidelines, I heard.
- Having discussed life and its ins and outs and meanings, and worked out that it all means nothing, John and Yoko didn’t want to, couldn’t possibly, give the edifice of the Beatles any credit, or indeed any respect.
- doubt set in because some critics and reviewers gave her favourable reviews in the press and on TV. You’d find yourself wondering if you were an intellectual failure, unable to spot the hidden value in Yoko’s art and music. [...] somehow it became important to judge Yoko as impartially as possible, mostly out of regard for John. The problem was we couldn’t accept that he could be so blinded.
- [Dan Richter] was a close confidant of [Yoko and Tony Cox]. He said he heard all their hopes and schemes to hook John, at first as a financial “angel,” then, with dawning excitement, as a lover.
- According to Dan, Tony Cox actively encouraged the affair between John and Yoko as a means of survival. He said that Cox would tell Yoko to “go get Lennon.” When John proved elusive, as he was at first, Cox told Yoko she wasn’t trying hard enough. For her part, when she saw how close she was to capturing their prey, Yoko told Dan that they’d soon be rich beyond their wildest dreams.
- Cox began to feel fragile, thinking he might get cut out. In all seriousness, he drew up an agreement that he insisted Yoko sign. This single-page document—which was drawn up and signed at Dan’s kitchen table—stated that when Yoko hooked John, they would split any cash she got from the endeavour.
#John attempting primal scream therapy by phone is everything#beatles books#john lennon#yoko ono#tony bramwell
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𝕂𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟
year 1
1-3 months
Have a new baby at home was almost like having a guest in your home. Only your life revolves around them now and you’re constantly worried if they’re okay!
When you had gotten home from the hospital Keaton insisted that he was still sleepy and so stayed asleep meanwhile you and Noah were freaking a bit
“Is he supposed to sleep that much?”
“I mean his is a newborn so I guess it’s normal……is he breathing” *proceeds to put his finger under his nose “okay he is”
Keaton was more a day sleeper rather than at night….big problem. Here you were in your rocking chair trying to get him to sleep at 4:17 am. Your eyes were heavy, your arms felt like rock and you were really just ready to knock out right there. You didn’t tell Noah since he had some things to get done tomorrow
After half hour passed Noah came in rubbing his eyes and took Keaton from you
"Come on babe, it's my turn to watch him,"
"are you sure...*yawwwn* you have that meeting later today, I'll be-"
"Not gonna hear it. Get to bed now missy,"
You were so grateful to have Noah there to help you with as much as he does
Feeding, changing, bathing and night shifts were shared but he always made sure to take on a majority so you could rest more. While he did work still, he worked from home and if he had to take the whole day to help you he did.
The one thing that he did worry about was how small Keaton was. He was just so tiny in comparison to him. He held his entire body in his two hands!
He loved to do skin to skin, especially before going to sleep or while doing work at home. He knew that it was essential for bonding and just overall good for the baby. On top of that he really did enjoy just having Keaton lay on his chest and fall asleep.
When it came to breast-feeding, he was a very big help. He would help to get a good latch or he would help you with the breast pump and remind you about times and switch. Help you moisturize them to keep them from getting dry and cracked
There were nights where he would put Keaton to sleep. While he was in the rocking chair, he was just stared down at him while he stroked the soft hair on his head with his finger.
“ never really thought that I would be a dad…. Once we found out about you, it really did change everything. I swear I’m never going to leave you you need me”
He wants to give him the best life possible and the best dad that he can
3-6 months
So much development! Noah is just taken away by it! Now he's mimicking his faces, and sounds and he will spend HOURS just making faces and sounds or copying him
"babe, babe! Look he's copying me screaming face!" and he'd make his face then turn Keaton around to show you his face
He is convinced Keaton is more advanced than most kids so every time you go to the doctors he's just waiting for them to say they're perfect
the more he grows the more he looks like Noah but with your eyes. You spent 9 months carrying a copy of your husband for him to be his exact copy, but, he did take your attitude and personality
Noah swears that he gave him stank eye when he took the bottle away from feeding and said it looked exactly like you did
"Of course he is! Look at him!"
Noah Love tummy time with Keaton he was just so cute the way he smiled and giggled and tried to hold his head up. And yes He's let his head fall right on the floor and yes Noah has laughed while kissing his head better
Keaton seems to have a thing whenever Noah watches him that he just blows his diaper up almost on purpose. Noah thinks Keaton is entertained by it since he always giggles when he changes his diaper with a stank face.
yes Noah has gotten peed on
Keaton for the most part was a calm baby and seemed to like and be comfortable on schedule and would sleep and eat around the same times unless something happened
Whenever the guys are over he does hover. He hates to be called one and to admit it, but he is a helicopter parent (and it's really cute)
He 10000% takes milestone pictures every month to treasure his growth. Which by the way has cleared a wall in his studio to hand pictures of you guys on it.
Although he loves being hands on he also loves to watch you be a mom. The Keaton looked at you, how loving and soft you looked as a mom. The way your body has changed to create your baby always amazes him.
7-12 months
Keaton was now going through some changes and shifts some were better than others, including you not going to him as often when he cried. Which you hated and honestly Noah would just give in too because in his words it's
"dumb as fuck"
CRAWLING! EVERYWHERE! He underestimated how fast babies can be when they crawl But he loves to lay on the floor and let Keaton just crawl all over him or come and plop his body on his face
By now you're body has healed pretty well but still had some baby weight on you and Noah thinks you still look incredibly sexy
"but Noah look at this,"
"the body that popped out my beautiful son? Yeah I love it, now stop shit talking yourself before to bring Keaton to slobber on you"
Uses his baby as a threat against you by hold him above you and just letting his drool drip down on you (pure evil)
Speaking of drool, he's ben chewing on everything to get to his itchy gums. You noticed he started to grow teeth at around 7 1/2 month when he gave you an open mouth "kiss" you felt something rough and it was teeth! You R A N to Noah
"TEETH!"
"What?"
"TEETH!" and you just opened his mouth to show him the small stubs of teeth growing from the front gums. You were just glad you didn't catch it while you were breast feeding, welp, that means he's gonna have to bottle but you pump what you can
Now weening him was a little difficult. Even your pumped milk wasn't enough for him
"I mean, if you refused to give me your boob I'd cry too-"
"Noah!"
Eventually through a lot of crying and one or two tantrums, he was moved on to bottles, now the issues was drying out your milk or whatever else was left
"If you want my hands are really big so I can just-"
"are you offering to milk me?"
"no.......maybe."
As for talking you guys have been trying to get him to say mama or dada any chance you got, but now it was a secret competition of who he would say first
Noah would basically spam him with the word Dada or Papa while you weren't around, and all lil Keaton would say was "mmmm" "buh. Buh" and blow raspberries
Now he did say his first words and it was when you had to go to a doctors appointment and he was getting fussy
"Say bye-bye to mama bud, she's gotta go"
"awh baby, I' don't want o leave you ether," you said kissing his chubby cheeks "mommy will be back soon okay?" while you hand him over to his dad he starts to whine and pout for you and said
"mama" in his sad voice as he chews at his cubby hand wanting you to stay
"HE SAID MAMA! HE SAID MAMA! Yes baby! I'm mama, that's me baby" you were ecstatic, while Noah was a bit disappointed he was still so proud to hear him say his first word, and at 8 months! You were a bit late to your appointment but hearing your baby say mama was much more important than the doctors.
but one of the biggest surprises was when he walked for the first time, and yes you both cried. It was actually at rehearsals for an upcoming show near home so you went with the guys and of course Keaton had his sound protection you were on the side of the stage holding Keaton up by his hands as you encouraged him to dance as his father sang. As he bounced up and down he was also padding his feet a lot and was just so excited for his daddy who was just out of reach
You start to move with him one foot at a time as he started to walk just a bit faster seeing how much closer he was getting to Noah, Noah turned and he saw you walking with Keaton as he held on to your fingers and crouches down with a big smile on to his knees holding out one of his arms
and just like that he let go of your fingers and stumbled his way to Noah, tripping on the last step but caught by his papa, Noah just picks him up and hides his face in his little shoulder and you know he felt emotional. An entire year went by and he didn't know how it went by so quickly, how much he had grown and how much you both had grown as parents, he comes over to you and kisses your head as Keaton just giggles as you both smoosh him in a kiss
"well, one year down."
「🍼taglist」: @badomensls @darling-millicent-aubrey @lma1986 @sanchez099 @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @flowery-mess @veronicaphoenix @malerieee @calleyx13
#dad noah sebastian#dad noah#noah as a dad#bad omens#noah sebastian#bad omens cult#noah sebastian x reader#noahsebastian#star’s anons#dad series
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