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drvscarlett · 2 months

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Let him cook

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader

Series Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series

Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo

liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.

Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list

User1 aint no way you cooked this

User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video

CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious

Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!

PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???

Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking

Y/NCooks posted a photo

YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos

Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!

YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry

User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!

User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!

User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!

Mystery Box challenge episode

There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.

"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"

You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"

"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.

"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.

The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"

"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"

"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says

"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.

"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.

Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.

He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.

"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate

"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"

"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"

"Nothing, I just saw an ad"

"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"

"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"

Cake challenge

You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.

Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.

"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"

Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.

It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.

There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.

"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."

"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"

"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.

"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.

"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite

"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"

"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.

Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.

Melbourne GP meets MasterChef

This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.

"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"

There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.

"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"

All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.

Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.

"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed

"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.

"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined

"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested

That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.

It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.

"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"

"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"

"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.

So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.

"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.

"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.

"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"

Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"

Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.

"Goodluck on your race Charles!"

There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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mycryptosuite · 2 years

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wqnwoos · 1 year

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jeonghan thinks you’re adorable.

sure, he only really sees you every tuesday and thursday at 8 in the morning, but he thinks you’re adorable. with your cute little colour-coded notes and your pastel highlighters and organised pencil case — how could he not?

especially when he compares it with himself — he’s lucky if he even remembers a notebook. and if he does, he doesn’t actually take notes with it. that’s asking too much. instead, his pages are filled with mindless doodles and random reminders.

his lack of educational interest doesn’t stop him from leaning over in his seat in class today, though. “psst.”

you look at him, slightly confused, pointing to yourself in question. me?

he nods eagerly, pleased to have got your attention after two weeks of sitting next to you — and suddenly realises that he doesn’t even have anything to say. speaking to you was a spontaneous thing! “hey — can i borrow a pen?” he asks finally, tilting his head towards the many that you have.

immediately, you’re nodding. “sure! do you like black or blue?” you pause, rifling through your pencil case. “i have purple too, if you want that!”

his smile stretches, amused. “black is fine.”

your hands brush when you give him the pen, and — observant as he is — jeonghan sees the way you jolt slightly at the contact. your flustered expression makes the corner of his mouth tilt slightly, unfolding a smirk. “thanks, sweetheart.”

and if you let out a small noise of surprise at the nickname, jeonghan chooses to ‘not hear’ it, hiding his smile as he turns back to his notebook. but far from doing something useful with the newly acquired pen, he instead scrawls a small tic-tac-toe grid — and then rips out the page, sliding it over to you smoothly.

you had been paying great attention to the professor at the front of the room, but when you see the paper, a smile lifts your lips. (jeonghan thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.)

you cast one nervous look towards the professor; but within the next ten minutes, you guys have filled up a page with wordless tic-tac-toe games, only muffled giggles filling the space between you whenever jeonghan finds a way to cheat. which he always does; only because he loves to see the cute little furrow in your brow when you realise he’s taken up two spaces in one turn, or carefully twisted your circles into crosses.

and then, just as the professor is wrapping up the lecture, jeonghan slides another, smaller piece of paper over to you. you unfold it carefully —

coffee after? i think i owe you for my crimes :)

you have to bite down hard on your lip to stop the giddy smile spreading too wide across your face — but it comes out anyway when you meet jeonghan’s hopeful eyes and nod.

and it comes out once more when, as you’re packing away your things and jeonghan is waiting next to you, a blue ballpoint pen falls out his pocket.

“wait — you had a pen all along?” your eyes widen with realisation.

jeonghan only smirks, stuffing it back in his pocket. “i have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

an / dedicated to the angel @ikigaiox. u know exactly why <3 thank you for reading!! also i’ve never called it tic-tac-toe before today 😭 i’ve always called it noughts and crosses?

#jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan comfort #jeonghan fic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan

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whorekneecentral · 5 months

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Family's Growing

Kylian Mbappe x Fem!Reader

Warnings: kylian has baby fever, dirty thoughts, baby talk, breeding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding/pregnancy kink goes burrrr, daddy used in a sexual context, begging, creampies, finger fucking and sucking lol, cum play.

Word Count: 1,615

Author's Note: okay I'm finally back on track with these - yes I know Tuesday is over but please look past that lol.

merry smutmas series

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head.

Christmas was a time for family and that seemed to be the only thing on your boyfriend's mind.

The two of you had gone over to his parents' place for Christmas dinner, all of his cousins were there as well as their kids. Kylian was not the favourite uncle for no reason, all of them knew they were getting good gifts in bountiful amounts too.

The tree in the living room that was once full with presents were now opened, the floor covered in wrapping paper. It was only two kids, his cousin's son and daughter, and Ethan if you counted him as well; and yet, it seemed like Kylian had bought the entirety of Paris for them.

Kylian watches as you lay on the floor with his niece and nephew, the three of you putting together a tower made of legos, whispering and giggling as you built the tower.

He smiles to himself as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. A part of him isn't sure what he did to be so lucky, to have a career as great as his and to have a girlfriend who's so loving and kind and supportive. You loved his family like your own, right now was a prime example.

Seeing you with kids always did something for him, you had a maternal nature about you, anyone who met you could see that.

The thought crossed his mind many times, how nice it would be to start a family with you. You two had spoken about it ages ago, when you began dating. You both decided that you'd revisit the idea when you were more stable in life and that you were now. Both you and Kylian were stable in careers, you two lived together, you had been together for a while and you had the means to raise a child.

He couldn't see where it would be a no.

As much as he wanted a kid with you, the idea of making a kid was much more appealing.

Clothes on the floor, hands all over each other, watching as you begged him to cu- "You okay?" Ethan asks his older brother, breaking his thought.

Kylian clears his throat. "Yeah," he nods, a smile on his face as you glance over your shoulder at him.

"They love her," Ethan nods towards you with the kids, "y/n's always been good with them."

"She was good with you too," Kylian teased his brother. You two had begun dating just before his World Cup win, the two of you barely 18 years old and Ethan was 12 - still a child in his brother's eyes and he always will be.

Ethan rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.

After some time, the kids started to get tired which was their parents' signal to head out. You and Kylian left not too shortly after that as well.

Your boyfriend finds you in the kitchen after he changes for bed, his arms wrapped around you from behind whilst your elbows propped on the counter as you waited for the kettle to boil.

"Something on your mind, baby?" You asked him, twirling the string attached to your tea bag.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

Kylian hums. "Kids."

His answer catches you off guard, you turn to face the man with a confused look on your face. "Kids?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Seeing you with the little ones today, I don't know - it got me thinking. It'd be nice to have our own, don't you think?" His hand rests on your hip, thumb disappearing under the hem of your shirt.

A glance at your boyfriend's hand, your eyebrows raised. "Do you really mean having kids or making kids?"

You can't help the laugh, kissing your boyfriend. The man wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Kylian picks you up, holding you tightly as he kisses you and carries you over to the couch.

Kylian puts you down, sitting on the couch for a moment as he looks at you. You take that as your sign to undress.

The silk shorts sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the tank top and that leaves you in the blue set he loves. You reach behind to unhook your bra but Kylian stops you, “leave it on.”

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the couch.

He puts you to lay on the couch, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Kylian drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy.

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace.

You smile, “I know.”

He pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy. He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him.

Kylian's fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling.

“Keeks, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach.

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.

Your face twists, pleasure all across it and our hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied.

Kylian can feel it; he knows you’re close, you’re squeezing on his fingers, your thighs trying to close, trying to squirm away from the pleasure.

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Kylian knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more, he gives in.

"Please," you whimpered.

"What, mon ange ? Tell me."

You look at the man between your legs. "Fuck me."

There was no hidden meaning behind it; no scolding, no need to hurry him up - you wanted him and that was it.

“Gonna let me fill you up princess? Hm?” He asks, shifting to line himself up with your cunt. You nodded eagerly, your leg hitching on his hip.

At this point, you can’t do much except lay there and take it; not that you don’t want to because you do, you really do.

The tip of his cock brushing over your clit before moving to push into you. Your back arches, hips jutting forward to meet his.

Hard and rough, not enough to hurt you but enough to tell you that he's in charge.

Kylian wanted to hear you.

His hand now on your chin. “C’mon amour, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He says, the angle you were at puts him deeper than before.

The slightest movements and you can feel it in your stomach. It’s like he can hear your thoughts because his hand moves from your chin to your stomach. His big hand spread over your stomach, “you’d look so pretty with a baby in you, hm?”

Kylian lets you fall back onto the couch, both of his hands on your hips. “Maybe I should fuck one into you.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, he could listen to you say it over and over again. You were close enough that you could taste it.

“So good for me, you take it so well.” He whispers to you, kissing under your ear.

“Uh huh,” you breathe, leaning back against him, your legs felt like jello under you. Your head drops back onto the couch, begging him to let you cum.

He lets you drop back, back arched for him once again. He feels you cum around him, the wetness covering his cock. It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Kylian cums too.

The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy.

He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Kylian pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You lay there for a while, Kylian on top of you, your leg tossed on his hip as his head rests on your sternum. Your fingers drag over his shoulders, the man humming quietly.

"We should do that again," he whispers.

You laughed, "keep it up and we'll end up with a baby by next Christmas."

Kylian nods, kissing you. "Let's try again then."

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#merry smutmas xoxo #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe smut #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 4 months

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gabortz

masterlist

melissa schemmenti x reader

this is from a request; melissa had forgotten she'd invited janine and jacob for a cooking lesson and the pair of you have to hope they don't catch on to your relationship

brief kissing, just fluff and humour if you find it funny - if you don't find it funny then just pretend i never suggested there was humour involved <3

wc: 1.6k

Melissa drove you home from work, just as she always does; the sight of her behind the wheel will never fail to make you swoon, you’re sure. The way her hand finds its place on the headrest of your seat when she reverses from her favourite parking spot, and the way it sits comfortably on your thigh while your fingers play with the ends of her hair. Her hands grip the wheel in a way that mesmerises you, all thoughts on her rather than anything else. It’s a perfect way to de-stress after a chaotic day of work, though.

And, after today, you needed the reprieve. Working with young children is never the easiest job but with more than one type of liquid spilt on your shirt and a friendship feud that you were left to resolve, keeping your attention on your girlfriend was more than necessary.

“Oh my God, I’m exhausted,” you sighed when you could finally slump into your favourite spot on Melissa’s sofa. She looked at you with the soft smile she reserved for you, hanging up her jacket before taking up the place next to you.

“I know, hon,” she breathed, pulling you into her side with an arm snaked over your shoulders. “But, it’s the weekend soon,” she added.

“Mel, it’s Tuesday,” you returned through a pout, one that made her laugh against you. You felt her breath against your temple as well as her lips as she spoke.

“I was trying to make you feel better,” she laughed with a shrug. “Why don’t you head up for a shower, and I can make us that pasta you like.”

“That sounds perfect,” you mumbled, uttering a whispered ‘I love you’ against her lips. Kissing her was something you could never grow tired of; it made you feel complete, worries of the day easily wiped clean with just the taste of her vanilla-flavoured lip balm.

You never know quite how much time passes when her tongue slips into your mouth and her hands take claim of your waist. It all fades away with her, the auburn-haired enigma you’re so lucky to be loved by. And when it’s time to part for air, your head always swims.

“Go on, babe, I’ll leave your favourite hoodie out on the bed,” she spoke once she’d pulled away with pink-hued cheeks.

You’d practically moved into her home with the way you comfortably make your way to the shower, sighing in relief under the hot water with the soap you always use gliding suds across your skin. Her wardrobe hung your clothes, ones you’d left behind over the months; they smelled just like her and sat on hangers mixed in with her own.

Even on the occasional nights you spend at your own apartment, she leaves your side of the bed empty - and, of course, you only toss and turn, counting down the seconds until you’re back at each other’s sides.

Once you’d dried your body on a towel she’d warmed for you, you pulled the hoodie over your head. The Eagles logo was faded from years of wear; it held remnants of her spiced perfume, and the small tear in the sleeve was just as familiar as the way the softness of the material fell against your back.

Your steps faltered, however, once you’d begun your descent back downstairs. You heard the sound of two more voices that were certainly not present twenty minutes ago, and they seemed dreadfully familiar.

“I’m so sorry, I totally spaced - I’ll make it up to you,” Melissa hurried out in a whisper as soon as you walked into the hallway. She’d pulled her hair back and changed into the denim shirt she looks so perfect in - you wished you could kiss her.

“Oh my God!” Janine practically squealed as soon as you sauntered in; the two of you paused in your stride at her exclamation, immediately trying to conjure up counterarguments for any accusations that may be thrown your way. “I didn’t know you were coming too - this is so exciting,” she beamed.

Melissa sometimes teases you for your significant soft spot for the overly joyful woman and she smirked at the way you returned her enthusiasm - partly due to the relief of your secret relationship with the woman not being aired out.

“Yeah, Melissa let me tag along,” you shrugged with a smile that matched her own. “I got here a little early.”

“I was honestly so surprised she’d even let one of us into her house,” she added, quiet enough for Melissa to not hear. “She’s a softie under all that ‘I’m gonna give you a black eye, ya gabortz’ facade she puts on,” she added with an impression of Melissa you couldn’t help but laugh at.

You appeased your girlfriend’s impending retaliation when she shot a glare in your direction, halting her with an amused smile and a shake of your head.

“Yeah, she puts up somewhat of an…aggressive front,” you returned, smirking discreetly at the woman who stared at you incredulously, adding the next part in a whisper. “But she cares. And she cares a lot more about you than you might think.”

She didn’t question how you might know that as she was too busy bounding her way over to the others with a spring in her step and an antsiness in her demeanour that made it obvious she was forcing herself not to pull Melissa into a hug she would despise.

“You best not be goin’ around ruinin’ my street cred,” you heard in your ear, muttered lowly with a teasing poke into your side whilst Jacob and Janine were sufficiently distracted with the task of chopping vegetables.

“I think there’d have to be some there before it could be ruined,” you laughed, sauntering away from the glare she gave you. She tried to hide her smile, but you both knew her tough act had no effect on you whatsoever.

The inquisitive pair only shared a brief look at the way the two of you easily manoeuvred around the kitchen; they put it down to a budding friendship in their hushed whispers. Or maybe you’re as much of an expert when it comes to cooking as the older woman. That must be why you so easily work around one another. Whatever quiet conclusions they thought of, they didn’t consider a romantic explanation for a second.

You stepped past her to stir the pot of sauce as she instructed, and she was much less abrasive with her tuts of disapproval when anything was done outside of her expectations. The other teachers felt the brunt of her accusations of incompetence, but nobody batted an eyelid at her usual attitude. They both just smiled through it, happy just to have been invited.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were such a football fan,” Jacob mused, eyeing the team logo you were sporting as he helped dish the pasta into containers. Melissa had been gracious enough to offer a cooking lesson, but she couldn’t bear to let them stay to eat it, too. You could see the headache forming already. “Is that how you two became friends? I mean, you seem pretty comfortable around each other.”

“Yeah,” you nodded - hopefully convincingly. “I’m a big fan - go Eagles.”

Melissa hid her laugh behind her hand at the less-than-excited fist pump you lifted into the air. The only knowledge of the sport you truly have is that your girlfriend loves it; you’ve picked up a minimal amount of technical jargon during her dramatically loud viewings on the TV, but you generally just watch it aimlessly. And in boredom that she would only tolerate if it was emitted by you. Countless naps have been interrupted by her explicit exclamations at the screen, angry mutters of profanities you’ve learned to just sleep through.

“Heard they won a game the other night, you see it?” he questioned; it felt like you were in an interrogation and you were just waiting for Janine to step in as the role of good cop to his bad cop routine. You looked over to Melissa for confirmation, earning a nod in return - you vaguely remember falling asleep not long after her first groan of annoyance.

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking back at the woman behind him to read her lips and hand movements telling you the score. “31-17, pretty exciting game.”

“Who were they playing against? I’m sure Zach told me, but y’know, I just tune him out a little and google it after.”

You had to hold your amusement back at the overt gestures being made by your girlfriend, trying to somehow telepathically understand what she was attempting to explain. With her arms flailing around and her mini game of charades depicting what you assume was ‘swimming’, you finally understood.

“The dolphins,” you spoke, earning a thumbs up. “Miami Dolphins,” you added smugly. You do listen to Melissa when she rambles on about the games; you just forget most of it. “They better get rid of Johnson though, if they wanna up their game.”

Luckily, the conversation was soon steered elsewhere and not long after. the excitable teachers left, but not without Melissa having to dodge a hug or two.

“You better hope Jacob doesn’t go around telling everyone about Johnson holding the Dolphins back,” she chuckled as soon as the front door closed behind her.

“Why’s that?”

“Because he doesn’t exist, hon,” she laughed. “You and I both know you pulled that name outta thin air.”

You knew you flew a little too close to the sun with that one, though if it comes to it, you’ll both convince Jacob he misheard.

“Can we just eat now?” you frowned, huffing with a faux glare whilst she continued to laugh at your expense. “I’m hungry, ya gabortz.”

“That girl knows, fully well, its gagootz,” she groaned. “She’s the gabortz.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic

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nolita-fairytale · 11 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter six

summary: you go to luca's place for the first time and talk about what you might want to be.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 3.8k

listen to: the playlist is finally ready, though no promises that i won't add to it down the line! you can listen here.

a/n: i have a busy week ahead of me so i wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible because leaving you guys with a kiss and no resolution is just cruel. that and i just can't get them out of my head. i promise that chapter two of 'don't want to walk alone' is coming. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part five | masterlist | part seven

Luca doesn’t work nights – not on Saturdays, anyway – his hours are boringly predictable, starting at five AM for his daily pastry prep, while the rest of the kitchen – the ones that work on the line at least, take his dishes all the way to the finish line.

He feels lucky, as he makes his way home from your restaurant, that he doesn’t have to do the late night thing anymore. Most of his colleagues get off of work around two, maybe three AM, before the restaurant closes from Sunday to Tuesday, and he doesn’t miss that schedule one bit.

He’s also feeling pretty lucky because he hadn’t expected his conversation with you to go the way it had. Luca thought he’d come to your restaurant in an attempt to mend things, to reassure you that you could be friends and that the two of you could take a few steps back. Really, he thought that it may be easier that way – perhaps the most realistic expectations for him to have considering it didn’t seem like you were ready.

But then you kissed him.

And he really, really hadn’t expected that.

It’s not that he doubted your feelings for him – he can’t imagine that you’d spend all of this time with him, make such an effort to keep in contact so frequently if you weren’t feeling the same way – but Luca felt like the message was loud and clear the night of the ballet when you’d rejected his ask to keep the night going. He couldn’t hold it against you. You had only been divorced for just under two years, but it didn’t take the sting out of it – not even a little bit. So Luca had come to the restaurant this evening, sure that your answer would be no again: that you weren’t ready, that you just needed to be friends – something he’s willing to, something he wants to be able to give to you.

Luca had agonized over it all yesterday, and most of today, really. He knew that you’d panicked on Thursday, and he was eager to reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when it came to him; he didn’t want you to have anything to worry about it when it came to him. So he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, that one day, maybe a friendship with you won’t be enough, but he figures at best, that it was a problem for a future version of him.

But the kiss changed things – or at least he hopes it does. He knows he can’t force it, but god, does he want you to be ready. As Luca enjoys his walk home from your restaurant – one that’s quickly becoming a well-known neighborhood spot – he heads in the direction of his Norrebro flat, deciding that he’ll just embrace the joy for now; embrace the fact that you kissed him because it’s not like he can predict what happens next.

He replays the moment over and over in his mind: the way that you kissed him when words failed you, the feeling of your lips on his, the way his heart fluttered as he moved in closer towards you so that he could kiss you back.

Before he gets home, he’s got a text from you, confirming that it’s alright that you come over later and he’s quick to reply yes, sending his address along with a ‘just text me when you’re on your way.’ Luca spends a little time tidying up his place in anticipation of your arrival. He makes a quick dinner – something simple, easy, a childhood comfort bowl of aglio e olio – before putting something old and familiar on the telly for background noise.

By the time he’s managed to settle in for the evening, it’s a few hours later, and a ping echoes through his Copenhagen flat, alerting him that he has a message. Luca glances over at his phone to see that it’s a message from you, letting him know that you’re on your way.

His heart skips a beat. Luca takes a breath, before setting his book to the side, and makes his way to the kitchen so that he can put on the kettle.

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

It only takes a few moments after knocking on his door that Luca answers, all smiles and nervous energy as you stand in his doorway, with a similar nervous energy.

“Hi,” he greets you softly.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to keep your heart from melting.

It’s now or never, sister, you think to yourself as words of encouragement.

The soft golden light of his living room lamps bring a warmth to his already welcoming-persona, as you step inside. You’re not sure whether you should kiss him or not, the question hanging over both of your heads in a tenuous way, so instead, you let him pull you into his arms for a long hug.

“I’m glad you came,” he begins, his lips moving against your hair.

“Think I’d chicken out?” you chuckle in response, with your teasing question as you pull away from your hug.

He laughs, locking his front door as he says back, “I… think that’s a trick question.”

“Fair enough,” you concede, because you’re not going to make him answer it anyways.

The kettle he seems to have put on whistles, signaling that it’s ready, as Luca hurries towards his kitchen area in the open-concept space. You take this as a chance to look around his living area before you get to talking.

“So this is your place,” you observe, speaking loudly enough that he can still hear you.

“Uh, yeah,” he calls back to you as he fiddles with the knobs to his gas stove, cutting the heat.

You hear him ask you how the restaurant was, how the night went, and you reply, exchanging small talk as you take in the scene. He’s got one of those places where everything has its place, everything has a home, yet it’s warm. Your eyes glaze over the grey couch that maybe seats three, that sits across from a simple, yet stylish coffee table. His bookshelf is bursting at the seams with cookbooks, copies of classic literature you grew up reading in school, and a photo of him and a woman that you can only assume is his mother.

“Tea?” Luca asks you with a raised eyebrow.

“Please,” you answer as you watch Luca moving around his kitchen.

You take a seat towards the center of his couch, picking up one of his coffee table books so that you can flip through it. You run your fingers over the spine, making a note in your head that he seems to have a thing for trainers, examining Luca’s copy of Nike: Better Is Temporary that’s been thoughtfully placed on his coffee table.

“How do you take it?” he continues, eyeing you carefully as you flip through his coffee table book.

As you look up, your eyes easily find his, and there’s something in the way he looks at you, a coquettish glimmer that matches his crooked smile so well that it hurts, and it makes you glad that you’ve already made up your mind about what you want to happen after tonight.

“Just a little honey,” you reply, watching as he drops a sugar cube in his own mug, adding a splash of milk.

He hums along with the lo-fi hip hop playlist that plays softly in the background as he finishes up with both cups of tea, so comfortable in his own space – so comfortable around you. Holding tightly onto both mugs, Luca makes his way over to you placing your mug down on the coffee table in front of you.

He smirks, glad that you’ve chosen to sit more towards the center of the couch and not at the opposite end, taking this as a good sign. You exchange a few more words back and forth, more of the ‘how are you’ and ‘how was your day’ and ‘what’ve you been up to’s’ as you drink your tea.

Really, you’re just biding your time, dancing around the thing that you came here to talk about as you make small talk instead that seems to die out before it’s really had a chance to get anywhere.

You and Luca settle into a pregnant silence once again, before you open your mouth to speak, mustering up the courage to be the first one to bring it up.

“So,” you start, and all of a sudden you feel like a blushing schoolgirl with a silly crush all over again.

“So,” Luca repeats, raising his mug to his lips before taking a sip.

“You kissed me.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully, as you reach for your mug like it’s there for emotional support.

“I kissed you, yeah,” you echo, unable to hide the way the corners of your lips turn up into a smile in response to your admission. “Did you… like… that I kissed you?”

“Oh, yeah. No, it was great,” Luca rallies, enthusiastic yet somewhat clumsy.

“Yeah, that’s… great,” you reply, less than gracefully as well. “Why is this… so hard?”

“I don’t know, love,” he empathizes, his eyes soft as he embraces the awkwardness with open arms.

The two of you exchange a look – one of ‘what the hell are we doing’ – and a quiet laugh acknowledging that you both feel quite silly. Your heart swells, and the fact that you feel joy instead of panic is a greenlight as you decide that you might as well speed through it before it has a chance to change.

“Luca, I-,” you begin, giving yourself time to get the words you want to say out. “I meant what I said earlier – that I really like you – and I do. It’s just….” You pause, shifting your body so that you’re facing him as you confess:

“I sort of… haven’t really dated anyone… not since the divorce.”

“No one?”

You shake your head.

“I just… I haven’t been ready. Haven’t met anyone that I was really all that interested in either until, well till you,” you explain, hoping that it doesn’t feel like you’ve just raised the stakes with your admission.

“So does that mean… are you telling me… that you are – open to this, I mean?” he asks, hesitantly, because he really doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Yes. I-, I want to be. I think… I won’t know if I don’t try, you know?” you answer honestly, desperately wanting to make it clear that your hesitancy has nothing to do with him, as you muster up the courage to declare with conviction:

“And I want to try. With you.”

Before Luca can get a word in, it’s almost as if your words get away from you. It’s funny, really, that earlier you didn’t have the words to express what you wanted to say, and now it seems like you have too many.

“And I would understand if you decided that taking a chance on a ‘maybe’ didn’t work for you because…” you trail off, succumbing to the nervous rambling in your head as the words seem to tumble out of your mouth.

“Because you deserve a sure ‘yes’ and I-, I think I’m still discovering what that looks like for me. I mean, this is uncharted territory. And like… what if I don’t know how to do this? What if I’ve entirely forgotten how to date? What if I’m bad at it?”

Luca sets his now half-full mug down on the coffee table before shifting his body so that he’s now a few inches closer to you.

“Then we’ll both be bad at it… at least for a little bit, until we find our footing, that is…” Luca assures you, placing his hands over yours as he moves one more inch closer to you.

And then he says this next part with so much confidence that you’re halfway to believing it yourself.

“...because, I think this might be something we could be really good at.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice caught in your throat as you find yourself completely overwhelmed by this man’s kindness, his patience, and his compassion.

“Yeah,” he nods in response, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile.

You pull your hands away, just for a moment, so that you can return your mug to the coffee table as well, scooting a little closer to him this time.

“So… would this mean… that we’re seeing each other?” you ask, contemplating the weight of the words that make up your question. You watch him carefully, searching his face for a reaction as he nods slowly.

“Yeah, I’d like to start. Seeing you, that is,” he answers, his hands reaching for yours once again.

Taken aback by his answer – and that it could really be this simple – you nod, trying your best to process as you mutter:

“Okay, yeah. I think-. Okay.”

“Are you panicking right now?” he asks you softly, a more playful tone in his voice as you chuckle, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Yeahhhh, a little,” you confess on an exhale, only feeling a little silly.

“It’s okay,” he says, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. As you open your eyes, you immediately catch his, and you swear you could get lost in how deep and blue they are. You’re sitting impossibly close to him, and it’s taking all of your self-restraint not to thoughtlessly dive in – your head and your heart at a standstill, unable to declare a clear winner.

“The thing is…” Luca trails off as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips, leaning in. “I don’t think a lot has to change. We already spend so much of our time together.”

You lean in towards him too, wanting nothing more than for your lips to be on his again.

“And we can take it slow.”

“I’m good with slow,” you whisper, leaning in a little closer.

“I just need you to talk to me, alright? If you start freaking out again,” Luca requests, and you know it’s a perfectly reasonable ask.

“I will,” you agree with a slight nod of your head. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, before continuing with your very important question of:

“But not too slow?”

Luca chuckles, and he can feel your breath against his lips as you speak, glad you’re thinking the exact same thing.

“We’ll go at whatever pace feels right,” he declares, bringing a hand up to cup your face, dangerously close to you now as the two of you engage in a game of chicken.

Luca could care less about who does what first, and he’s more than willing to light the match if that’s what it takes. His hand feels hot against your jaw and you can feel the anticipation between the two of you.

“Can I kiss you now?” he practically growls, under his breath.

“Please,” you reply, before crashing your lips into his.

This kiss is different than before – than earlier today outside of your restaurant. It’s no longer a first. And you no longer have curious onlookers, passersby on the street, or nosy best friends who can’t help eavesdropping to worry about. It only takes you a moment to react as you lean into him, deepening the kiss. Luca’s hands are warm against your body, cupping your face, while the other moves to your back, pressing you closer to him – something you’re more than happy to comply with.

The kiss starts out slow, tentative, as Luca kisses you deeply, more than eager to pick up where you left off earlier, but this time with the confidence of knowing that time is on your side. Luca breathes you in as he sucks on your top lip, before pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips. Your hands slide over his shoulders, snaking one of your hands up and behind the back of his head as you savor the way he tastes like chamomile and mint.

You’re reminded of how fun this is supposed to be – getting to know someone new, making out like horny teenagers, dating – as your tongue tangles with Luca’s, chasing his lips like your life depends on it. It’s as if all of your worries, all of your doom what-ifs disappear for a moment, when you allow yourself to relax and enjoy what’s happening.

You said it earlier: you’ll only know if you try, and Luca – and the way you feel about him – really, really makes you want to try.

You whimper as he pulls away, only to be pleasantly surprised as he begins nipping at your jawline, behind your ear, ghosting his lips across the bare skin of your neck. You feel him smile against your skin as he presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, earning something between a gasp and a laugh from you. You forget how to breathe for a moment with that way he’s kissing you, but when Luca returns his lips to yours, it’s as if he’s realized that it’d be all too easy to get carried away like a runaway train.

He places a slow, gentle kiss to your lips that takes up a full beat, then moves to the tip of your nose, leaving a gentler, more playful kiss there that earns a giggle from your lips. Finally, he presses the softest kiss against your forehead – one that seems to say:

I care about you.

He’s left you completely and entirely breathless as you begin to blink your eyes open, reluctantly coming back down to Earth as you exhale a:

“Woah.”

“Big woah,” Luca echoes in agreement, as the two of you exchange a laugh again.

“In the name of ‘slow, but not too slow,’ I think this means I should probably go home tonight,” you say reluctantly.

“I figured as much,” Luca replies, respectfully.

“But… I’ll call you. Tomorrow. Maybe… we can have a coffee?” you propose, hopefully.

“I’d really like that,” he agrees.

You get up off the couch, as Luca offers to take your mug to the kitchen. You make sure you have all of your things on your way to his front door, before you stop, turning to him.

“Thank you. For being so… understanding, so patient with me,” you say, because it really does mean a lot to you.

“You make it easy, love. Get home safe,” he replies, kissing you one last time.

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

Like you promised, you call Luca first thing in the morning, unsure if he’s going to be up already. You assume so, considering he’s at work most mornings at 5 AM, but you figure it’s something you’ll learn about each other now that you’re seeing each other.

Holy shit.

You’re dating again.

And this time, as it all hits you, you find yourself more excited than nervous about the idea of dating again. Of course, it’s not like you’ve eradicated every fear, every thought, every what-if you have about starting something new with someone new, but the fact that that someone new seems to be the source of your excitement.

You don’t spend long on the phone – just an exchange of good mornings, of how’d you sleeps, of you’re on my minds – as the two of you make a plan.

A proper, yet casual date.

A coffee date, you suggest, just like you had last night.

Slow, but not too slow.

It seems a little silly, considering you’ve been on a date before, but you remind yourself that in the end that date went horribly awry, and that although you’ve been to coffee with Luca before, this time, it really is a date.

You decide to meet up at a coffee shop in the City Centre, something about pistachio croissants and getting there before they sell out, and before you know it, he’s waiting for you outside of your place, ready to lead the way.

As you approach the cafe that Luca’s gone on and on about all morning, you spot a certain familiar three people sitting at a table outside, enjoying their morning coffees. You watch as Jesper goes on, animatedly explaining, perhaps this week’s spiciest sexcapade to both Mathilde and her husband, on the edge of their seats.

Jesper, though mid-story, is the first to notice you and Luca’s presence, waving an arm to grab your attention as soon as he sees you.

“Hej! Great timing. We were just talking about the two you,” Jesper calls out, as both you and Luca approach the cafe table.

“Well, well. Where are you two coming from?” Mathilde asks, a smug smirk on her face plastered to her face. “Looks like you two figured things out.”

“Mathilde!” you exclaim as her husband lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head incredulously at his wife.

“My wife is a little bit cheeky – and alotta bit mischievous. You’ll have to excuse her from time to time,” the man says, extending a hand out towards Luca. “I’m Emil.”

“Luca. It’s nice to meet you,” Luca answers, as Mathilde shoots you a ‘you better call and tell me everything later’ look, as the boys exchange pleasantries.

Choosing to ignore her previous statement, you turn your attention to Jesper as you ask: “What’s going on?”

“Oh just having a little morning coffee, catching up on Jesper’s wild, single life… He’s trying to rope me and Emil into something this coming Saturday and I know that Emil’s planning on dragging me there whether I like it or not,” Mathilde jokes, playfully nudging her husband.

“Jesper got put on the list for this club opening next weekend. We were just talking about who might like to join,” Emil explains simply.

“That so?” you ask with a raise of an eyebrow in Mathilde’s direction. It’s a ‘how do I know that we are about to get dragged along with you’ kind of look, and Mathilde simply shrugs in return.

“Jesper’s always getting invited to these kinds of things, so we tag along when we can keep up,” Mathilde explains, this time directing her explanation to the newest addition to the group, Luca.

“Which is rare,” Jesper teases, earning a snort and an eye roll from his twin sister. Jesper turns his attention back to you and Luca with words of encouragement. “No, it’s perfect timing that we were just talking about you and then, here you are! A sign from the gods. You must come – the both of you!”

“I don’t usually work Saturday nights so,” Luca begins, glancing over in your direction to feel you out on Jesper’s request.

“I… could be up for it, yeah,” you answer, hesitantly as you send a small nod in response.

“Great, it’s settled then. I’ll have them put you both on the list,” Jesper smiles an accomplished smile.

You’re not sure what you’re getting into (and you’re sure that you’ll have to catch Luca up on Jesper’s wild adventures later), but right now, you think that maybe, you're entering a chapter of ‘yes.’

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

a/n: are we doing okay?! did we love the makeout!? are we ready for smut?!? yes, yes, and yes?!

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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evvlevie · 2 years

Text

I SHIFTED FOR THE FIRST TIME !!!! (as detailed as a shifting blogger can be but scroll down for the juicy part)

Hi, Hello, my beautiful beautiful readers! It's your favorite blogger Evie again and I don't know where to begin 😭 You've read the title so you know damn well what this post is about, and I am freaking over the moon to say it finally happened!

"So how did you shift?" Is most likely your very first question, and I promise I will answer it, but not without giving you full context on what led up to this magical event (or just scroll down in case only the shifting part concerns you)

so as I mentioned in my last post I had been in this state of not putting any effort into my shifting attempts anymore and basically treating shifting like any other of my manifestations: that it will happen on its own, if I simply want to.

⇣the post in question in case you're interested⇣

"Did it work?", you may be wondering. It did not. It might work for other people, because some points I made in that post still apply to me, but the idea of just counting on it to happen on its own didn't really work in my case. This being said, just because it didn't work for me, doesn't mean it can't work for you, and if you are an advanced manifestor who has complete trust in the law, this mindset might even be yours to apply.

Ever since I posted this, some days went by and my typical shifting-cycle repeated. I didn't shift after being so confident I would, and then the realization hit hard and I became severely demotivated. I even told my shifting bestie I was about to give up and lucky for me she motivated me and gave me back my faith. Speaking of faith: I had been noticing that certain angel numbers kept reoccurring in my life. The numbers being 1237 and 119. These numbers seem random, but 12:37 is the time my niece was born and 11th of September is my birthday. (yes I was born on 9/11, no not in the year that it happened, but two years later which is basically irrelevant information but it's a little fun fact about me.) I always thought the universe was showing me my birthday, up until I googled both of these numbers and realized they both mean something among the lines of "keep faith and trust in the universe". And lucky for you I did.

⇣small fangirl and shout-out-moment ⇣

Then on Monday I had a doctors appointment, and being bored in the waiting room I opened Tumblr. My feed was full of law of assumption content and I actually took the time and read through them all, and I reposted the ones I felt like gave me a lot of insight. Now to the freaking craziest part of all of this. (okay not true but it sure meant the world to me). I wake up in Tuesday and see that THE @astra-nomy reposted my post about the newest shifting tip I had found, and not only that, my comfort-shifter @multiversebaddie not only liked one of my posts, BUT FOLLOWED ME BACK. All in the same night and even right after another. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THAT DID TO ME????? I was like no, nope you guys, I can't not shift if my favourite shifting and loa bloggers fucking found out I existed. (APHRODITE FOLLOWS ME I CANT COMPREHEND THAT). Plus @lavender--fairy commented on the post mentioned earlier, and her post that I reblogged, was the one who actually gave me the key to shifting. Hell yes. I mean I knew what I needed to know from other bloggers anyway, but her post actually brought me back to the correct mindset.

✧THE ACTUAL SHIFTING EXPERIENCE AKA THE REASON YOU ARE READING THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE✧

so now it is Wednesday. I never really talked about what DR I am shifting to, and I mentioned it somewhere on an old ass post but to put it as briefly as I can: my DR contains a certain group of YouTubers, and I am shifting so I can be friends with them. Now they post videos on Wednesdays and due to the time difference I get to watch them at 11:30 pm, so basically right before going to bed. I went and grabbed a quick shower and then I laid in bed and started doing what I was always doing: affirming. But due to me being me this quickly turned into overthinking and overcomplicating EVERYTHING which is why I stopped, went back on TikTok to clear my thoughts a little and then returned to my attempt.

✨ THE METHOD ✨

☞ I laid in a position most comfortable to me and I started imagining myself in my DR making myself ready for bed. In my head I reminded myself of the thing that I was able to remember due to @lavender--fairy 's post: The 4D is the real reality, and the 3D is only the translation of your inner thoughts. meaning: if I can visualize it, I am already IN it.

☞ Along with me imagining my DR-me doing what I did, I always reminded myself (affirming if you will) that if I can imagine it, I am in it. I purposely chose the Visualization of me doing things I was already doing in my CR day-to-day because you can feel the moment so much better and ground yourself in that reality way easier than imagining me climbing a mountain since I never did that.

☞ I was making myself aware over and over again, that the imagination is the real reality and that if I can imagine it, I am in it. For as long as I was trying to fall asleep. I even moved and rearranged my position constantly, imagining that I was my DR-me doing the same thing. I really just emerged myself in that visualization and started feeling what ever I did, because essentially that's how manifestation works. You don't need to worry about the 3D, and you don't have to feel like you're lacking something. You imagined it in the 4D, so you already did it silly!

☞ In combination to that I never forced myself to stay focused on my DR. Because as mentioned in this post below, you are supposed to let you mind do its own thing in a way, because you can't shift If you are too aware of what you are trying to do.

✨ THE MOMENT ✨

I found myself in this weird state between falling asleep and still being conscious enough to see and understand what you are envisioning. So I was technically awake while it happened. I didn't visualize my DR anymore, instead my mind went into a completely different direction and I saw myself buying milk with Harry Styles. No I did not even script him into my DR, this was just my brain doing brain things. Nonetheless I was still affirming that if I can see it, I am in it, and suddenly I felt myself getting pulled. I heard a little whooshing sound and I literally zoomed out of my body. I was standing in a dark corridor and I could see an open door in the distance with a little something happening in the room it was leading to but I was too far away to see what was happening. Suddenly the corridor started spinning and I felt myself getting pulled into a whole different door. I gained consciousness in this unknown room, but I couldn't tell where I was, or what I was seeing, because it was just dark in there and my eyes had no chance of adjusting quickly enough. I panicked and before I could even comprehend it, I knew I set the intention to shift back to my CR. I got pulled back into this mysterious corridor and shoved into another door by some weird energy and I opened my eyes back in the CR. I know it wasn't a dream because this whole zooming out, the mysterious energy sending me from door to door and the random dark room felt way too physical for it to be a dream. I could literally feel myself in this corridor as only a "being" of some sort, but definitely not as a human with a physical form. From the many success stories I have read regarding shifting realities, I have noticed that many shifters do not reach their desired reality on their first try. Almost every shifter that has talked about shifting mentioned that their first shift was weird and to a strange, undefined reality. (@multiversebaddie shifted to a random ass classroom for example)

✨ ADVICE TO TAKE AWAY FROM THIS EXPERIENCE ✨

I believe I shifted when I did, because my mind was in this gloomy state between conscious and unconscious, which ultimately made me believe myself on the spot when I told myself the affirmations I mentioned earlier. I did not doubt them and that's probably why the void state is such a powerful state to be in, because even if I wasn't, I imagine it to be very similar to this.

Another thing, that won't hurt you is educating yourself on the law of assumption. I know it helped me a lot and I believe that people who struggle with shifting, would benefit if they understood the way manifestation worked because ultimately manifestation and shifting is the same thing.

If you read everything from top to bottom: I love you. If you are doubting shifting, your ability to do it, or wether or not it is real: I can guarantee you as a first-person-witness: not only is it real, it's something every single dingus out there can achieve! And if I can help you in any way, shape, or form: don't be afraid to ask.

I send a lot of love and a lot of positive vibes to everyone reading this! I had been waiting to do this post ever since I created my blog and I still can't believe that I finally got to do it 😭

Yours in every reality

Evie <3

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daffi-990 · 2 months

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🏙️

Tagged by @diazsdimples & @tizniz. Make sure to check out what they shared today! (and maybe send James a virtual hug or a stupid punny joke? He’s been sick for 3 weeks and I’m sure he could use some cheering up 😘)

I have been wanting so desperately to write the past few days but a cold has my sinuses putting so much pressure on my head I feel like it’s going to explode, plus it’s school holidays and it’s been raining so I’ve got two very energetic kids with cabin fever running around causing mayhem 😅.

BUT! I did manage to write a little something for LA Lonely so yay (even though it may not be great, at least it’s words)

Pre snippet here

Buck is woken up by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. The bed jostles, Buck letting out an annoyed grumble as the warm body that is wrapped around him disappears. There is a kiss pressed to his naked shoulder, a whispered apology and then the rustling of the blankets as the person leaves the bed, answering the phone with a quiet hello.

Rolling over to check the time, Buck’s surprised to see that it’s almost 9. Usually his body clock wakes him up at 7am everyday, whether he stayed up late or not, so sleep-ins are a rare thing. He rolls onto his back, groaning as he stretches his arms up above his head. There’s a slight ache in his ass but it’s a reminder of the fantastic sex he had last night and honestly, Buck doesn’t mind the discomfort.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, the wood creaking slightly and then the most attractive man Buck has ever laid eyes on is standing at the foot of his bed wearing nothing but underwear and a soft apologetic smile that has Buck’s tummy swooping.

Eddie.

The man’s name is Eddie, Buck remembers. And remember he should because he was moaning it loud enough last night.

Eddie has a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he picks up his jeans and begins to awkwardly shimmy them up his legs. “I told you, I overslept. But I’m getting ready now and can be there in —” he looks down at his wrist and frowns, his eyes sweeping over the discarded clothes on the floor before zeroing in on Buck’s second nightstand where a clunky watch sits. Eddie grabs the watch, quickly checking the time before he begins strapping it on. “I can be there in 20 minutes, 15 if the traffic is good.”

Buck feels a pang in his chest and then instantly chastises himself. This was just another hookup, a one night stand —nothing more than that. He was foolish to think that what he felt last night with Eddie was anything real. It was just the hormones.

Eddie may have stayed, but that was probably because he was hoping to get lucky again this morning. Or like Buck, he slept in and didn’t get a chance to sneak out before Buck woke up.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @wikiangela @athenagranted @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @goforkinard @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @dangerpronebuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @donationwayne @shitouttabuck @sunshinediaz @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @captain-hen @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @mellaithwen @missmagooglie and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag

#spoiler alert: Eddie would stay if he could but fatherhood calls and well that’s a call Eddie will always answer #daffi writes #wip: la lonely #Buck is being all self deprecating #but what else is new?#buddie wip #buddie #I really really want to finish Rival Firefighters so I can dive into my other wips #(and also post the first chapter for you guys!)#and I’m soooo close #but between the pounding head and the energetic munchkins .. I haven’t been able to keep the smutty writing beans going #though I have been on a bit of a little fic reading roll atm which is nice 😊#having to slow down and rest (more like being forced to by my husband haha) gives me time to go through my MARKED FOR LATER library #okay I’ve probably rambled way too much #hugs to everyone ❤️

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nevernonline · 2 months

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✧.* he's all that; lsm mini series

✧.*synopsis: every year the kappa sorority hosted a 'hot or not' greek life pageant show. you've luckily escaped having to bring your own "nottie" to give a makeover to and train in hopes of winning a big prize for the rest of your crew. but, just when you thought your lucky streak was going strong your name get's chosen as a representative and your sisters had just the guy for you to make over.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seokmin x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lvrs, neighbors2lvrs or whatever.

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes. no funny business iykyk. lots of mean girls (rip)

word count: 4.2k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. this edition of nmm is inspired by a true classic she's all that (w/ a bit of greek the tv show/sydney white energy if any of u have ever seen ALSO classics, this was supposed to be one part, BUT! I feel myself getting so carried away so … three parts.) i was going to post my gwag update today but im gonna wait till either tomorrow or Tuesday <3.

beginning ▸ middle ▸ end.

Y/n was dreading the meeting she walked through the front doors of the sorority for this afternoon, the pageant. Kappa and all the other sororities on Greek row participated in what they call ‘Hot or Not’ every year since supposedly the 1980’s something her now head sister Heather claims was started by the legacy that was her mother. Which maybe was true, but y/n could never figure out why it mattered? And while it was fun it was a little bit old school.

“Hey, girls. Everyone settled in? We have a very exciting tradition here at Kappa as you may know.”

The cheers rang through the sitting room, with its white walls, pale pink carpets, and sherpa couches, the cheers and claps of girls hoping Heather draws their name from the glass bowl with her perfectly manicured finger tips.

“Yes. It’s so exciting, we have a few new faces so since you haven’t been a part of this week in past years we left you out of the bowl, but we will have many things for you to participate in this week. Like dine and dash, our famous Good as Gold party, and of course judging the competition at the end of the week. Before we get to the drawing, I wanted to congratulate our last year's winner, Suni. Give it up for her.”

Smiling, y/n clapped along with the other girls, giving Suni her flowers. About to step out behind the two french doors to grab a water or something to drink, when you hear Heather call your name loudly. All of your other sisters and friends spinning around watching her looking like she was attempting to escape the reality of her name being the one chosen after three years of getting out of it.

“y/n! Finally, Come back here, girly.”

Walking through the clapping crown y/n took her place next to the blonde and pretended to smile with excitement as her gut was telling her it was absolutely the worst day of her life.

The only reason y/n was in this sorority was to get extra college credits, that and Heather and her mother met here and have been friends since that very day. Heather was obsessed with being a legacy and clawing her way to the top of the food chain at the university. Y/n was just there for the ride.

“Everyone, you all obviously know my very good friend and our smartest sister, y/n. I personally have been waiting for the day she got chosen out of this bowl. It’s something our moms, co-vp’s of their 1980’s class of Kappas have been talking about for years. So I’m just as excited as I’m sure y/n is to be our guiding light to another victory this year. Anything to say, y/n?”

“Uh, not really, you said it all.”

Another big fake smile appeared on her face. Laughing and giggling at all the congratulations coming her way.

“Girls, before we enjoy our lunch. Don’t forget tonight is dine and dash, please find your dates and bring them to Carol’s Diner at 8pm. See you there.”

Checking the time on your phone you had roughly 45 minutes before your lecture and enough time to take off the gaudy Kappa logo’d sweater you had to put on for what Heather calls “official business.”

“Y/n what are you checking the time for? We have a lot to do today.”

“I have a class in 40 minutes, I have to go back and change.”

“I don’t get why you won't just move back in here with us?”

“I told you, Heather. I can't. I have to focus on getting into Med School and no offense to you or the other girls, but this isn’t exactly the best place for me to focus when I have to study.”

“Med School can wait just one day right? We have to set up the table at Carol’s and set up for the party later. Would you mind going with the new girl Sam to grab the alcohol? And then you can meet me back here and we will go to the diner together. I’m going to have the girls go out and look for some Nottie’s for you today before that whale from Delta picks them all up. “

“No, but-”

“Thank you! Love you!”

“Also her name is not Sam, It’s Soyeon.”

“Okay got it, toodleoo.”

Searching the house for the person and so called new girl, Sam you stumbled upon her sitting out on the back patio writing in her journal.

“Soyeon?”

“Oh, hey y/n.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just so used to everyone calling me Sam I forget people know that it’s actually not.”

“Yeah, it took Heather a whole year to not call Suni, Sunny and everyone just kind of follows her suit.”

“I thought you had class? I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I do. It’s just a lecture on the importance of mammograms and breast cancer research so, I guess it’s okay. I can just find it somewhere online.”

“Ready to head out?”

“Would you hate me if we stopped at my dorm? I cannot wear this fucking sweater for more than an hour or I may spontaneously combust.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be seen with you in public while you’re wearing that.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“You should.”

Y/n and Soyeon escaped the general excitement of the rest of the girls by escaping out the outdoor gate and walked viciously together to change the heinous sweater on y/n’s back.

Turning the corner to finally reach the hall her single dorm room lived at the end of, she ran into a tall boy who’s books scattered all across the floor, a boy she had never once run into literally and physically.

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’re y/n right?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I live across the hall from you. I see your name tag on your door all the time and all the photos of you from all your friends. Which now that I’m talking makes me sound like even more of a weirdo? I’m sorry. I’m Seokmin, my friends call me DK or Dokyeom , whatever. And now I’m rambling, please stop me.”

“No, you’re okay. Can we at least just get off the floor now?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin or Dokyeom whatever his real name actually is, crawled off the floor and stuck his hand out to you for assistance pulling your pink colored body off the floor.

“This is my friend, Soyeon.”

“Sorority sisters?”

“Wait. How’d you know? Oh, fuck the sweater. Don’t tell anyone you saw me wearing this, I know where you live.”

“Don’t worry, I never will. But, sorry to uh, cut this meeting short I have to get to class. I’ll see you again, I’m sure. Bye, nice meeting you y/n. And you too, Soyeon.”

“Bye.”

In unison you and Soyeon watched the tall boy walk towards the elevators. Both of you have differing expressions of looks on your face, one of pure enjoyment watching the awkward interaction and one of pure dumbfoundedness.

“He’s cute.”

Soyeon brought you out of staring at the boy walking away and stepping into the elevator, throwing his fingers up waving goodbye while clutching his mounds of books in his hands.

“What?”

“I said he’s cute and he’s your neighbor. Lucky girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can’t believe I’ve never met him before.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

“We just met. Plus, I’m busy with school and now this stupid pageant. I don’t have time for cute boys.”

“I’m sure you can make it work.”

Unlocking your door and letting Soyeon in before you so you can sneak a peek at his front door in front of yours. Plain, just a few funny messages and cute stickers of tangerines and tigers pasted on his whiteboard. Maybe he already has a girlfriend? But a boy like that with that many books is probably much like you and had no time for dating.

“Wait. Y/N your room is so nice? Maybe I should move out of the house. It’s loud as fuck anyway.”

“Why are you in the sorority? I’m not judging because I was basically dragged into it too. I’m just curious?”

“My mom always wanted me to join. She said it’s a good way to find friends, I always had a hard time making them. So I figured why not?”

“Got it. Makes sense.”

“What about you? You also don’t serve sorority girl to me.”

“Because my mom also got me to join, that’s actually how I know Heather. Our moms were co-captains of the sorority at some point in the 80’s.”

“Oh, so you’ve known her your whole life?”

“Mhm.”

“No offense or anything, but she’s… kind of a bitch.”

“Kind of? It’s only gotten worse since she’s been in charge. She was okay when we were younger, but you know.”

Slipping out of your jeans and sweater, you threw on a black pair of pleated pants and a loose white button down.

“Also you have tattoos and a sick body, stop dressing like an old woman.”

“I could never pull off what you wear? You’re so cool and confident.”

“Promise me. One party this year you’ll let me pick out something to wear?”

“Okay.”

“You’re very trusting.”

“What? You’re going to make me wear a hot pink dress and try to dye my hair blonde too?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.”

Hours passed on as you were getting to know Soyeon more, a part of you realized what you had been missing meeting girls outside of your own circle at school.

People who share your interests and enjoy talking about things other than clothes, shoes, and boys.

It was actually the least stressed you’ve been around someone at the sorority in a long time. Almost like a breath of fresh air.

Getting out of the Uber you took filled to the brim with alcohol and snacks, you were back at the big White House at the end of the street. Not a flaw in sight. Almost like it wasn’t a real reality.

“Should we ditch the diner? We could always go see my friend play at the bar across campus instead?”

“I would love nothing more, but Heather will have my head shaved or something.”

“Okay, well when we ditch later we can head there.”

“It’s a date.”

“Ew, you’re so corny. Save it for your new lover boy across the hall.”

“Shut up.”

Soyeon and you laughed, dragging the last box up the stairs into the foyer of the house. Met with the blonde at the bottom of the stairs.

“There you guys are! I was going to send a search and rescue team to come for you if you didn’t show up soon.”

“We got a little distracted. Sorry.”

“No problem. You’re here now, Sam go up and get ready, I’ll help y/n from here.”

“Okay.”

Soyeon or Sam, picked her poison and shoved down Heather still calling her by the wrong name and walked up to her room to change and get ready for the rest of her night. While you were stuck unpacking the boxes.

“Y/n. Don’t forget to look out for the boys everyone brings tonight. We can pick one from the litter for your Nottie.”

“Look, Heather-“

“I know what you’re going to say and don’t even think about asking me if you can drop out of the pageant, okay?”

“I just don’t think it’s worth it or fair anymore, why don’t we just get the other frat guys to do it? Like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Johnny? I don’t know. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“You raise a good point. And it gives me an idea.”

“Which is?”

“We have the other frats competing too, we’ll get more payout and the three uglies will be more profitable than ever for us. You’re so smart.”

“That’s not wha-“

“Ah! I’m so lucky to have you. I’ll let everyone know.”

Heather bounced off into the other room, texting rapidly with her manicured hands on her cell phone, making the fire bigger.

With your head spinning around and around you don’t even remember walking your way to the diner waiting for the freshman girls to bring their guys along to the large table set for someone’s embarrassment.

Taking a seat near the end of the table next to Soyeon and Heather on your other side, you sat and sipped at the Diet Coke in front of you, feeling your mix of anxiety and angel swirling in your stomach and begging for something a little stronger.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Soyeon leaned over and whispered into your ear, seeing the look on your face and noticing your obvious quietness.

“I’ll tell you after.”

“Okay, if you want to go early, let me know.”

“I will”

Heather had her vulture eyes on, waiting to see which she would inevitably have embarrassed by the groups around you with no remorse.

She looked into your eyes and signaled to a cute shy boy across the table, sitting and picking at his nails, making it clear she had made her mark.

“Let me use the bathroom first okay?”

“Yeah, of course. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right.”

Walking briskly into the old blue stalls in the bathroom, which you didn't even really have to use, but just needed an excuse to go somewhere and release your anxiety.

“Y/n? Hey. Y/n?”

Seeing Soyeon’s platform heels under the bottom of the stall door you jumped up and swung your head out of the blue metal.

“What?”

“Remember that guy you met today?”

“Yes, of course why?”

“He’s here.”

“Someone brought him?”

“No. He’s here with his two friends and Heather invited them to the table. One of them is that dude that’s friends with Mingyu with the that acts like a tiger, the hot nerdy one, and the other one is just some hot short buff guy, never seen him before. Anyway, We either have to get out of here right now or stay and hide in here until they're gone.” L

“Why don’t we just go-“

“No. I don’t want him to think you’re a bitch? Are you crazy? You can’t go dunking on nerds in front of three hot dudes?”

“Okay let’s go.”

As the two of you tried to make your exit from the ladies room you heard commotion outside in the dining room, so you both slipped back quickly into the bathroom, locking the door for some reason as you head the chairs scooting and the bell ringing meaning people were slipping out on one of the boys at the table.

“You think they're gone?”

“Yeah. I hear the sink running in the men’s room, come on.”

As you walked out of the bathroom in front of you Seokmin was sitting at the table covered in a turkey club sandwich looking at the long tab Heather left for him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Your ‘sisters’ dumped a sandwich on me and left the tab? Do you guys do this a lot?”

“It’s just some stupid shit Heather came up with when she became president. Me and y/n were hiding in the bathroom so we could come and pay the tab. But, you got to it first.”

“Right.”

Not saying anything and standing in your tracks cold, you watched as Soyeon took the check from his hands and waved you on to help him as she went up to pay.

“She dumped her food on you?”

“Yeah, my friends and I were just coming for takeout. I saw Soyeon so I went to say hi and she wanted to come get you. But the blonde girl,”

“Heather.”

“Yeah, Heather. She told me to sit down for a second and my friends went back to their dorm so they could keep studying and deliver food to some other guys. She was okay at first, but once Soyeon left she dumped her soda and sandwich on me and when I came back they were all gone.”

“I’m so sorry? Let me get you dry cleaning money or something.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I can handle it. I’m glad you two were here though, I don’t have my wallet on me. Are you okay though? Have you been crying?”

“I’m fine, just had a moment.”

The small black haired girl popped back over, tucking her card back into her wallet and smiling at the two of you sitting and talking with Seokmin covered in an orange beverage, a little bit of lettuce stuck in his hair.

“Want to come to a party?”

“If it’s at the sorority then sorry, no thanks.”

“No. It’s just some of my friends from the music department. They’re playing a show at O’Malley’s.”

“I don’t think orange soda is really a good look for a party.”

“That’s okay, y/n has to go change too. You guys just meet me there? I’m going to head out and get us a table.”

“Well I do owe you guys both a drink. So, sure.”

“Oh, and Seokmin?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure y/n actually comes back out, she’s hard to get her hands on.”

“Of course.”

Walking back to your somewhat shared dorm, you and Seokmin walked in silence past greek row, watching all the girls running around to get ready for a greeting ceremony to the frat houses as escorts to their party.

The boy looked at you up and down, imagining you inside one of those grand houses gossiping and dishing on sister life just trying to figure out why you joined in the first place, your friend included.

Reaching your destination with only smiles and small giggles shared between the two of you on the walk over, you both slid into your dorm rooms and found clothes that were far more suitable for a night out.

You noticed the black tank top Soyeon had pointed out before and slid it on, matching it with a pair of dark ripped jeans and your go-to loafers, sliding back into the hallway, finding Seokmin on the other side of the door waiting for you.

He was somehow on your wavelength wearing an oversized black t-shirt and jeans.

“I figured I should try to match Soyeon's aesthetic somehow.”

“Me too. You look nice, I like your shoes.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

“Yes. I definitely need a drink.”

“So, y/n what is your drink of choice.”

“Anything strong and not sweet.”

“Oh, so not me then.”

“Shut up.”

Seokmin made you laugh, there was no way a boy like him was not taken or at least could be interested in you.

“Have you and Soyeon been friends for long? You guys seem close.”

“Actually, not really. We hung out for the first time today. I mean, I’ve seen her at parties and stuff, but she’s sort of been like a breath of fresh air for me.”

“Really? I’m surprised by that. Why are you in the sorority anyway? You don’t exactly have the same.. Vibe? Or whatever as the other girls. Especially the ones I met today.”

“My mom. The girl. Heather. Soda spiller, her mom and mine were friends when we were kids, they're legacy members. So I just thought it would be fun, but now.. I don’t feel that way.”

“Can’t you just quit?”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“I guess I just want to be someone who sees things through. I also can’t offer Heather the satisfaction of knowing I left.”

“She really is that bad huh?”

“Worse. It’s a long story. Can we table it?”

“Of course.”

Reaching the door of the bar, you caught a glimpse of Soyeon’s shoulder tattoo near the stage, through the large crowd of people mingling.

“Go. I’ll order us drinks and meet you there?”

“You sure?”

“You said you needed it right?”

“What about your wallet?”

“Apple pay, y/n. Duh.”

“Your ID?”

“My friend is the bartender, just go.”

“So sassy.”

Walking your way through the crowd by pushing yourself through other bodies you finally reach the girl on the other side and wrap your arm around her waist as a hello.

“What the- Oh my god, you actually came? You look so hot. I’m proud.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. Where’s the puppy?”

“At the bar grabbing drinks.”

“On the leash already? You’re good.”

“No. He’s just nice.”

“True. But, he also likes you.”

“I don’t think it’s like that, but maybe someday you’ll tell me I told you so.”

“I look forward to it. I saved you guys a table.”

“My girl.”

Soyeon gestured her long manicured fingers behind you, noticing the boy making his way with two glasses in his hands and another tall figure following behind him holding a tray with various things on top.

“Hi, Soyeon.”

“Hi, Keom. Thank you for joining us. Who’s the glasses?”

“My friend Wonwoo, he works here, well he just got off. Is it cool if he joins us?”

“Of course.”

“Nice to meet you, Wonwoo. I’m y/n.”

“Hey.”

“So. Since I didn’t get to ask Soyeon what she wanted and I wasn’t entirely sure what you liked. We brought over options. But, we have to finish them all because Wonwoo was nice enough to gift them to us and it’s unfair to not accept gifts.”

“Very charming.”

You made your second flirty comment of the night to Seokmin, even though your sober self normally isn’t entirely as bold as you find yourself being with him now. But, in all fairness you were just trying to catch his vibe. He didn’t respond verbally, but just scrunched his nose in your direction almost as if he was letting you know that he’s interested.

“First, a simple vodka soda, little lemon, then just a couple of beer options, this is a sour, this is just a simple light beer, and an ipa, which ew, but I think Wonwoo likes, some tequila shots and some lemon drop shots, also a whiskey soda and a jack and coke, and then a uh, gin and tonic i think? Right, Woo?”

“Yeah, maybe you should be the bartender, Seokmin.”

“I have other talents.”

All eight of your hands reach every which way around the table and end up with different drinks sat in front of them, you beelined for the vodka and the sour beer, Soyeon went for the whiskey soda and the tequila, Seokmin for the gin and tonic and light beer, and Wonwoo for the jack and coke and the ipa.

“Who wants what shot?”

Soyeon dipped her arm back to the middle of the table covering her eyes with her opposite hand, grabbing a hold of the small glasses very carefully and placing them around the small group.

“There. Decided for you, me and Wonwoo get tequila and you and Seokmin get lemon.”

Smiling widely at your friend next to you, you grabbed a hold of the shot glass and held it up signaling everyone to cheers. Which they all happily obliged.

Soon after the alcohol was going through your bloodstream the band started playing their music that hit you right in the chest, songs about living your life to the fullest and choosing your own path, much to your surprise Soyeon was the one who wrote the music that spoke to your soul.

After the set ended, Wonwoo and Soyeon wanted to stay back and have a few more drinks to congratulate their friends, and enjoy their night, but you were beat thinking about all the work you still had to do over the weekend and dreading the choice of man Heather would embarrass. So you decided to leave with Seokmin walking you back safely to your dorm.

“What are you studying again?”

“Me? Oh, I’m studying to be a veterinarian.”

“Wow really? That’s cool, I didn’t know. You must be busy as hell.”

“I’m sure you’re just as busy, being a doctor for actual humans is way more complicated considering a lot of them are assholes.”

“That’s unfortunately true. But, I love it to be honest. I can understand why people are afraid of the hospital and surgery I guess.”

“That’s good, maybe we should study together sometime? I know it’s not the same exact thing or whatever, but it’s nice to have company?”

“I would love that, tomorrow? I mean if you’re free. We can go to the coffee shop or library or anything really?”

“Yeah, just knock around 10?”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow??”

“Yes, absolutely. Have a good night, y/n”

“You too, Seok.”

Trying to get comfortable in your bed, some pesky person kept lighting up your phone screen, reaching over to turn on do not disturb you and realized it was Heather. She was asking a bunch of interrogating questions about your new friend Seokmin, begging you to bring him over tomorrow.

Unfortunately for you, you knew her interest in him was about to make your new relationship a very complicated one.

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months

Text

No Place Like Home

Request: So I just finished watching this movie with my grandparents it’s a black and white movie 😂 but I loved the story line so the summary of the movie was “A Christmas angel is sent from Heaven to help a desperately stressed frustrated businessman by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed after the things he said to his wife out of frustration but he didn’t mean but he was to stubborn to apologize and it went with he will apologize tomorrow but he wakes up to the angel instead”

I could definitely see this with jack being like this and being a pain in the ass when being stressed and saying things he didn’t mean like “well you don’t gotta be here for me I’m fine alone” or something like

Warnings: language

A/N: this is an adaptation of 'It's a Wonderful Life' from Jack's perspective. Jeff Probst is the host of Survivor, one of Jack's favorite shows. This is a work of fiction and does not portray any real life events or the people mentioned in the work.

Jack never really cared much about Christmas until he met you. Sure, he loved the holiday just as much as the next guy, but besides spending time with his family, it never went deeper than a holiday where you exchanged gifts for him.

You on the other hand loved Christmas, it was your favorite holiday, and a reminder of how lucky you were to have the things you had and people who truly loved you in your life. You made every day leading up to Christmas special, and throughout your relationship, some of your cheer started to rub off of Jack.

This year, though, he was really struggling to get in the holiday spirit. It seemed like no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, things just weren't going his way. He hit a creative roadblock, he liked to refer to it more like a giant brick wall, in the studio, and there was no way he was going to make his end of the year deadline to put out a new single.

At home, baby boy was close to arriving and you were on doctor mandated bedrest, so Jack had to pick up all of the slack, taking care of the house and getting the girls back and forth from their many commitments. He really didn't mind it, but it was obvious that he wasn't the primary caretaker, and he was struggling with the smallest things. The girls had their set schedule, and without you, things were just a big mess.

Add to that the fact that the two of you had been at odds lately, and Jack wasn't sure how much more he could take. You could blame it on pregnancy hormones and Jack could blame it on his stress, but you weren't talking unless it was absolutely necessary, and the silence was killing him.

There wasn't even a tree up in the house, and if he didn't think too hard about it, it felt like just another Tuesday.

In short, Jack couldn't wait for Christmas to be over.

****

"Ok, we need to leave for school in five minutes, so eat quick." Jack let out a stressed huff as he placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Aaliyah at the dining table. "I don't wanna eat that", she pushed the plate away with a look of disgust on her face. "What? Since when?" Jack would honestly admit he had no culinary skills, and cooking eggs was his limit. "I wanna have a bagel."

"We don't have any bagels, baby. Now eat." He paced around the kitchen, haphazardly throwing a sandwich and some snacks into Brooklyn and Aaliyah's lunchboxes.

"Dad, I need you to sign this permission slip." Brooklyn waived the paper in front of Jack's face, already dressed and ready for school. "What's this for?"", he asked, running a hand through his messy curls.

"For me to play soccer. I told you about this. Tryouts start today." Jack could barely remember to brush his teeth lately, Brooklyn playing soccer had completely slipped his mind. He scribbled his signature down, handing the slip back to Brooklyn. "Don't forget. You have to pick me up after the tryouts. 5:00."

"Yes, I will be there." Jack nodded, making a mental note of the time. He checked his phone. "Fuck", he swore under his breath. "We're gonna be late. Alright, lets' go." He ushered the girls out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Daddy, you said a swear word." Aaliyah chastised him as she climbed into the back seat. Jack let out a huge sigh, feeling his chest constricting. He just really needed to get through this morning.

****

"I've got some bad news, man." Angel turned to Jack, nervously messing with the buttons on the control board. Jack went straight from school drop off to the studio, knowing he needed all of the time he could get to work on this song.

He was distracted on his phone, searching for last minute Christmas gifts for you. You had taken care of the girl's presents throughout the year, but he was struggling to find something to get you that would make up for all the fighting the two of you had done lately.

"Jack." His head shot up at Angel. "Sorry, what's going on?"

"The single, the record label didn't approve it. Its a no go."

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me." Jack's jaw angrily flexed at the news. "Did they say why?"

"Drama said it wasn't fresh. The same thing everyone is putting out right now." Angel hated to be the barer of bad news, but Jack wasn't willing to listen to any of his feedback, and unfortunately, he saw this coming from a mile away. "I've got this sample I think would be-"

"No, I wanna go with the original beat I chose. We just need to keep working it until we get it right." Jack knew he was being stubborn, but he needed this song to be perfect, and he was a control freak. "We're not leaving here until we get this song right." Jack stood up to head back into the booth. He closed his eyes as the track started, sound coming in through his headphones. He just really needed to get through this song.

****

It was after 9:30 when he finally got home, and when he spotted you in the hallway, visibly upset, he knew he was in trouble. "What are you doing up, you're supposed to be in bed." Jack slipped off his shoes and jacket and walked toward you. You held up a hand when he tried to lean in for a kiss, moving to rub your hand over your overly pregnant belly. You could have burned holes through walls with the glare you were giving him. "What's wrong?"

"Did you forget something today?" You tipped your head waiting for his response. Jack could only stare at you, his mind was truly blank. "Brooklyn, Jack." The reminder hit him more like a bat to the head than a lightbulb turning on. "Oh fuck." Jack shut his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I forgot to pick her up today."

"Yes, you did, Jack. I had to get out of bed and pick her up. She was inconsolable." It was unlike Jack to forget something as big as picking up his own daughter, but lately it felt like he was missing a lot of the important things. "Why didn't you pick up your phone? I tried to call you." Jack pulled his phone out of his back pocket, completely forgetting he had put it on 'Do Not Disturb' while he was in the studio.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Time just got away from me. I'm under a lot of pressure to get this song done." You let him put his hands on your bump, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Go apologize to your daughter please", you sighed. Jack nodded, rushing up the stairs to Brooklyn's bedroom.

He laid a couple soft knocks on the door. "B, baby, daddy's sorry. Can we talk?" He listened as he heard her get up and the door swung open. She still had tear stains on her cheeks, her eyes red from crying.

'Where were you? Did you forget about me?", Brooklyn asked as she wiped her face with her sleeve. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I just got caught up at work."

"I was so embarrassed! Having to sit there while all of my friends were getting picked up", she cried out. Her face broke Jack's heart. "I know, I'm so sorry. It will never happen again."

"It doesn't matter. I didn't make the team anyway." She gritted out before shutting the door in Jack's face. He raked his hands down his face, his stomach twisting with guilt.

You were in the bedroom, tucked under the covers, reading a book when Jack came in. You could see his shoulder slump over as he sat at the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. "I really am sorry about forgetting to pick up Brookie." His voice sounded so defeated, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

You got up on your hands and knees to crawl over to him, sitting back on your haunches. "Jack, I'm not sure what's going on lately, but it seems like you've got your priorities all mixed up." You laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He let out a curt laugh, nodding his head. "You're right. I can't even disagree with you."

"Maybe you need to take a break from working for a little bit." His back tensed up at your suggestion. "Just until things settle down."

"Why is that always your answer for everything? For me to stop making music?" Jack stood, turning on his heels to face you, his face contorted with frustration.

"Its not. You're overreacting." You both felt another fight coming on, and Jack was really too tired to get into it right now, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh, I'm overreacting? It's like nothing is ever good enough for you." He had no control over his words, weeks, no months, of frustration bubbling over. "I stop touring as much because you asked me to be around more, but that's not enough for you, so I cut back on my studio time, but oh no, that's still not enough for you. Now you want me to stop making music all together?" His throat was dry as he spoke, desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Jack, that's not what I mean. I just think that you need to look at how important other things in your life are now. Its not just us anymore, we've get kids to think about. They always come first." You ignored a cramp in your back as you stood up.

"Baby, I am always thinking about them, and I always put you first, but my career is important to me. Its a part of who I am." He pushed a finger in his chest to solidify his point. "Why do you want to try to take away the one thing that I've always been so sure about?"

"I don't. Its just sometimes", you took a deep breath, "sometimes I wish you weren't 'Jack Harlow'. I just think things would be a lot easier if you had a different career. It makes everything so damn hard." You bit at your bottom lip realizing that wasn't what you meant to say, but it was too late to take it back.

"What are you saying?", his brow furrowed with anger as he took a step back out of disbelief. "Are you saying you wished that things were different? That all of this was different?" He was for sure jumping the gun, but that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach only grew louder as you spoke. "No, Jack. That's not what I mean at all."

"Well, that makes one of us." He took in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring. "What are you saying?", you pushed back.

"I'm saying that sometimes I wish I could go back. I feel like I made a lot of mistakes that I wish I could fix." He grabbed his keys off the dresser. "I'm gonna go back to the studio, don't wait up." You felt tears sting your eyes as you watched Jack walk away. He just really needed to get through the night.

****

A couple of hours had passed and Jack was no closer to finishing the single then he was when he arrived. He could barely keep his eyes open as he tried to fix the arrangement to no avail.

"Why can't I just get this shit right?", he pulled at his curls before roughly shutting his laptop closed. He wanted to go home and crawl into bed next to you, but it felt like the wrong thing to do, so he would have to settle for the crappy leather couch at the back of the room.

Every muscle in his body hurt, but he was tired enough that as soon as he closed his eyes, he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.

"Hey, Jack. Jaacckkk. Its time to wake up." Jack stirred in his sleep to the sound of a voice. "I just need 5 more minutes, okay, Liyah, and then I'll make you breakfast, okay?" He turned on his side, trying to go back to sleep.

"I really think you should get up, Jack."

Jack's eyes shot open when he realized the voice didn't belong to his little girl, but instead a grown man.

"Aah! What the hell?" Jack jumped up off the couch, hurrying to his feet at the sight of Jeff Probst standing over him. "How did you get in here?" Jack rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but when he opened them, the host of Survivor was still standing there.

"I mean, people usually are a little happier to see me, but given the circumstances, I won't take it personally." Jeff shrugged, giving Jack his signature host smile.

Jack began to pace the room, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Oh my god. I'm going crazy. I have truly lost my mind. You have to be some kind of figment of my imagination." In his mind, there was no other explanation.

"You're not going crazy, Jack. If anything its the exact opposite." Jeff sat down in one of the chairs by the control room, his hands gesturing in the air. "This is your moment of clarity and I am here to guide you."

"So what? You're my guardian angel or something?", Jack asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"Sure, if that's what you want to call me. Its your story."

Jack shut his eyes tight again. "I have to be dreaming. Maybe if I lay down again, I will wake up and you won't be standing there." Jack quickly swung his feet up on the couch, scrunching up his face as he tried to go to sleep. He thought he was coming back to reality after a couple of seconds.

"Are you done freaking out now? You're right, though, you are dreaming. Unfortunately for you, you're not gonna be able to wake up until I've shown you everything. ", Jeff remarked, pushing a variety of buttons on the control board.

Jack let out sigh, allowing the insanity to sink in. He really didn't want to move, but his guardian angel was annoying the shit out of him putting his hands on everything.

"Can you stop doing that? You don't even know what you're doing." Jack stood, turning off all of the equipment.

"Oh good, now that you've acknowledged me, we can get to work."

****

Jeff snapped his fingers and suddenly Jack was standing in the middle of an empty school hallway. He glanced at a banner that read "Highland Middle School" and he realized he was standing in his old junior high. "How the hell did we get here?" Jack was more scared than interested.

"Relax, its all just a dream. Do you know where we are?". Jack nodded, "We're in my old middle school."

"Yep, were it all started for Jack Harlow. The start of your music career. It was here that you used to pass out your CDs and people started to figure out who you were." Jeff let out a whistle that echoed through the empty hall. "This is a piece of history for you."

"Okay, so what?" The point was lost on Jack. He remembers that time as being very difficult, he was relentlessly bullied by his classmates that thought he was a fraud. "You said you wanted to go back and change things, so let's see what would have happened if you never believed in yourself." Jeff snapped his fingers again and the hallway filled with teenagers rushing to get to their respective classes.

"Coming through!" Jack braced himself when he saw a kid running toward him full speed, but he passed right through Jack like an apparition. Jeff chuckled at Jack's shocked face. "I guess I should have laid down the ground rules. None of this is real, just a figment of your imagination. We're strictly here to observe. Now." Jeff turned Jack to face the opposite direction. "Do you recognize anyone there?"

Jack blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. At the end of the hall, a couple inches shorter and with much longer hair that hung over his glasses, stood a younger Jack. He was passing out CDs to everyone who passed him. Most people blew him off or chucked them in the trash when he was out of view, but Jack was relentless, his music blasting over a small stereo he borrowed from his mom. "I would hardly say this was the start of my music career. The music I made back then was shitty." It was mostly ripoffs of popular songs at the time that Jack would put his own lyrics too.

"Sure, I guess you could say that", Jeff shrugged, "but it was the start of your confidence as an artist. It was this and all of the shows where only a handful of people showed up that gave you the drive to keep going." Jack still wasn't convinced.

"I think if I could go back. I would have quit while I was ahead. Things only got harder from there." Jack sighed,

"If you insist." Jeff snapped his fingers and Jack jumped at the sound of a loud crash. He looked over at his younger self who was trying to pick up all of his CDs as a much larger student stood over him.

"Harlow, you actually think people are going to listen to your shitty music?" The bully pushed him against the wall hard, making his glasses fall to the ground and shatter. "Stay out of my way, or your glasses won't be the only thing I break." Young Jack cowered as the bully bucked at him, his friends behind him roaring with laughter.

"Hey! We can't just let him, I mean me, get bullied like that." Jack tried to take off but Jeff stopped him. "Its not real, remember? You can't interfere." Jack let a sharp breath out of his nostrils. "I remember that guy, Tim Hudson. He used to make my life a living hell. Last time I heard he was at some dead end job, and never left Louisville."

Jeff nodded. "Yep, works as a mechanic." They both watched as young Jack gathered all of his CDs, most of the cases shattered and threw them into a nearby trashcan. "If you never kept handing out your music and making a name for yourself, Tim eventually graduates and becomes pretty successful actually."

Jack let out a humorless breath. "So its my fault that he ends up the way he does in real life? C'mon, you can't make me believe that I'm responsible for anyone else's future."

Jeff sighed, giving Jack a contenfull smile. "You don't get it, do you? I think its time we go to our next stop."

****

Jeff snaps his fingers, and Jack doesn't recognize the building lobby they're standing in. "Where are we? i've never been here before." Jack's head is on a swivel as he looks around, a bunch of businessmen in suits rushing past. "Just wait."

"Can you just take me back-" Just as Jack was losing his patience, a man that looked a lot like Urban walks by. "You have to be kidding me." Jack scoffs as he recognizes his best friend, undoubtably looking a lot different, his hair cut short so he blends in with every other wall-street prick here, dressed in a plain black suit, briefcase in hand. It was like all of the life had been sucked from him. "There's no way that's Urban. I can't believe it."

"Oh, believe it. If you never started working on your music, you and Urban never really hung out anymore, and while he tried to keep working on his photography, because you never got signed for a record deal and started touring, you didn't need a photographer and he had to get another job. Got into law school and everything."

"Law school?" Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. Urban always thought not following your passion meant selling out, and this went against everything he believed in. "So, because I didn't give out CDs in the hallway back in middle school, my best friend becomes a lawyer?"

"Oh, the two of you aren't friends anymore. You haven't talked in years. After high school the two of you drifted apart and eventually went your separate ways. Urban got married, and moved to New York." Jack's head was starting to spin. No matter what happened, Jack always thought that Urban was going to be his best friend. Still, if it meant that Urban was successful in his own right, he was right to quit his music career. "Well, as long as he's happy, that's all that matters."

Jeff sighed, realizing Jack still didn't recognize his impact. "Jack, happiness isn't everything. Its fleeting, just a feeling, not always something you can count on. Urban loves working with you now. It wasn't always glamorous, especially at the start, but the two of you were facing the world together, following your dreams. There's nothing greater than that. C'mon, we've got places to be."

****

The third location Jack recognized immediately. "This is my wife's first apartment." It was exactly as he remembered it. Decorated a little too girly for his taste but smelled exactly like you; he had a lot of good memories here. His mouth hung open as he saw you walk into the living room, dressed in an evening gown. Even in his dreams you took his breath away, you were so beautiful.

"Let me guess", he turns to Jeff, "because my music career never took off, the two of us never met."

"Now you're getting it. You never met her at that industry party years ago, never had a first date, never had your first kiss at that door right there, never got married, never had kids together." Jack's stomach turned at that last thing. "We never had Brooklyn and Aaliyah?"

"Now are you seeing how everything is connected?", Jeff asked. Jack's ears perked up as he heard a knock at the door and you walked past him to open it. You smiled when you saw Drake standing on the other side of the threshold. "Ready to go baby?" You gave Drake a quick kiss before grabbing your clutch. "Yes, ready to go."

"Wait a fuckin' minute! You're telling me if I never met my wife she ends up with Drake?"

"No, I was just messing with you. Guardian angels need to have a laugh now and then too." Jeff lets out a hearty chuckle, but Jack doesn't find the humor in it. Jeff snaps his fingers to restart the scene. This time, when you open the door, Copeland is standing on the other side, sans arrow tattoo. "I think I'd rather she be with Drake.", he scoffed as he watched you walk out of the apartment.

"It doesn't really matter who she's with, the point is, she's not with you. You never meet, and you miss out on the greatest love of your life."

Jack had to sit down, he felt so lightheaded. "I don't know what you want me to see here." Jack admitted, his head beginning to pound. "Sure, things are different, but they aren't bad. If anything, these people aren't affected by me and my career, so their lives have to be better."

Jeff sat down at the chair opposite of Jack. "I have to say, out of all my clients, you have to be the most difficult. You really don't see what's happening here, do you?" Jack shook his head, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "All I see are a bunch of people who I haven't disappointed in one way or the other."

"Okay", Jeff nodded. "I've got one more thing to show you, and if you still don't believe how much of an impact you've made on other people's lives after that, I'll let you wake up." Jack hung his head in his hands, his gaze to the ground. "Fine." Jack didn't bother to look up, hearing the snap of Jeff's fingers.

****

Jack stumbled when he realized he was no longer sitting, concrete beneath his feet. It was dark now, the only thing illuminating the darkness a neon sign. The building in front of him looked abandoned, the windows boarded up.

"The Neighborhood House, its one of the charities your foundation has funded. Without your donations, and the attention you've brought to this organization, they had to close one of their locations. That's one less location where kids can go to for after school care and family services. A lot less kids helped in the community, Jack."

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "Is this supposed to be a guilt trip or something, make me feel bad for not doing more to help?" If it was, it was working, the guilt was eating him alive.

"Jack, your life hasn't always been perfect, but its always been good. You may not realize it, but by following your dreams and never giving up, you've given a lot of other people hope and purpose."

Jeff continued, starting to see Jack's face soften. "Without you, there is no foundation that has been able to donate to improve Louisville, Urban doesn't continue to follow his passion in photography, your wife never becomes a mother to two wonderful children with a third on the way. There is no The Homies because you never gave them the platform to promote their music. So many people won't have you to look up to when deciding whether they want to pursue their own dreams." Jeff placed a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"You say you've done a lot of things wrong, but Jack, you've done a lot of things right, too." Jeff's words hung in the air for a second. Jack never thought about the impact the good he did had on other people, he was only worried about disappointing them. "So what now?"

"Now, you get to wake up, and try to make the best out of the life you currently have. Its worth it. Good luck."

Jeff snapped his fingers for the final time.

****

Jack awoke with a a gasp, clutching his chest. He was back in the studio, and this time, there wasn't a TV host in the room with him. It had all been a dream, but he'd never been more sure in his life that this was the only reality he wanted to be in. He checked the time on his phone, realizing it was the next morning, and grabbed his things before running out the door.

The girls greeted him at the front door as soon as he walked in. "Daddy!" Brooklyn wrapped him in a tight hug, making Jack stumble back. Aaliyah was holding tightly onto his leg, the weight of her little body making it difficult for him to stand.

"We didn't know where you were." Brooklyn mumbled into Jack's sweater, pulling him tighter. "Yeah, Uncle Lay said Santa kidnapped you so you could go work with the elves." Jack laughed, picking Aaliyah up.

"Uncle Clay is right", Jack decided to play along for Aaliyah's sake, giving Brooklyn a wink because she no longer believed in Santa. "Santa called me up to the North Pole to help with the presents." He pushed a stray curl out of Aaliyah's face. "Did you tell him I wanted a new Barbie house?" Aaliyah whispered in his ear. "Jack chuckled. "I didn't leave until I knew he had it all wrapped up for you."

"Jack, baby?" You hobbled over to your husband as fast as your body would carry you, grabbing Jack's face in your hands. "What happened to you? I was so worried." You didn't even care that you were crying as your eyes searched his face. "I'm okay. I didn't mean to scare you." He pressed a kiss to your palm, giving you a small smile.

"Daddy! We have a surprise for you!" Brooklyn grabbed Jack's hand, leading him to the living room.

"The girls spent all day decorating. Your mom and dad even came over to help.", You smiled, rubbing Jack's back affectionately. The living room was beautifully decorated, the tall Christmas tree covered in lights and ornaments.

Jack looked at you when you grabbed his hand, his eyes glistening from the lights. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have seen that you were struggling. I don't want to change anything about the life that we've created together." You stroked his cheek with your thumb as you spoke.

Jack wrapped you in a tight hug. "I'm the one that needs to apologize to you. I took all of this for granted, but baby, you are the best wife and mother, and you're right, I always need to put you and the girls first."

"You do, baby. You always do." You pulled him in for a kiss, Jack careful of your burgeoning belly as he held you close. "I have to tell you about my crazy dream later", Jack whispered as the girls tried to get your attention.

"Daddy, we have one more surprise for you." Aaliyah swayed back and forth as she spoke.

The girls led Jack into the family room, where they had set up a movie night, complete with snacks and pizza. "We thought we could watch your favorite Christmas movie."

"Harry Potter?" Jack asked, a playfully surprised look on his face. You nodded, moving to sit on the couch. The family all got comfortable under blankets, Jack's arm around your shoulder while Brooklyn and Aaliyah clung to your bump.

You could feel Jack's eyes on you as you watched the movie. "Something wrong, baby?", you asked, turning to him.

"I just love you so much. Never forget that." He uttered out, and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Thinking back on it now, Jack realized he was foolish to ever wish for something other than the life that he had. It wasn't perfect, but it was his, and it was so much better than he could have imagined.

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zerokurokawa · 5 days

Note

Hiii can u write literally annnyyything that is fluff with bonten!ran??!!??!!!! Tytyyyyy

Sweet Moments In Time | Bonten!Ran x Reader <3

It was a rainy Tuesday and you woke up unexpectedly to your boyfriend laying next to you. You didn't know why he was still in bed considering he was supposed to attend some meetings today with Mikey and the others, but yet, here he was - with you. You slowly sat up, thinking that maybe his alarm didn't go off and that he was just sleeping in by accident.

"Ran, honey," You slowly shook him awake, "You overslept, you're going to miss the meeting with Mikey and the others!" You tried to keep your voice quiet, but you were worried about his repercussions of missing that meeting. He slowly rolled over, shirtless, exposing his large tattoo. Lilac eyes laid upon yours as he slowly, but sleepily, caressed your face. His husky morning voice rang through your ears as you were still trying to pull him out of bed.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I stayed in with you today, not going to the meeting." He gave you a warm smile before laying you back down so that he could place his head on your chest.

"I thought today was very important, why did you stay out?" You asked, concerned about his well being and worried that he was sick or something.

"I just wanted to spend the day with you. It's raining and I thought maybe we could binge watch a show or order in some food." He smiled, looking up at you while nuzzling into your neck.

You smiled back at him, thinking about how well he has been attending to your needs here lately. He's been working a lot of late nights, coming home drenched in sweat and blood splatters from "jobs" that Mikey had ordered him to do. He deserved a day off, and sure enough, Mikey granted it to him.

He go up from the warm bed and walked over to the desk in the corner to pull out a take-out menu that you both had kept from your favorite restaurant. He dialed the number on the menu and sure enough, ordered your favorite food. Once you had gotten out of bed, you went up to him and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him from behind.

"I'm so glad you stayed home today, I've missed you so much." You smiled into his back muscles, making him tense up at the sudden sensation of your touch.

"I wanted to treat my lady today, so I am." He turned around to return your hug, propping his chin on the top of your head.

"You're so sweet." Was all you were able to muster out before you heard a knock on the door. You walked away to grab your robe while Ran went to answer the door. Once you had returned, robe on and comfortable as ever, you saw him holding a bouquet of flowers.

"I had ordered these for you yesterday, but they were backed up. I was trying to think ahead in case Mikey didn't let me have the day off." He smiled, handing you the giant vase filled with your favorite flowers.

You nearly teared up at his sweetness, wanting to repay him somehow. Silence filled the air after you thanked him. Both of you were staring out of the window to the city's skyline as fog and rain covered everything. It was peaceful, something that Ran wasn't used to.

Soon enough, the food that he had ordered had arrived and you two sat down on the sofa in the living room, deciding to watch a romantic comedy. You snuggled into him while he held you close. Soon enough, with a full belly, you were falling back to sleep. Ran just held you as you had looked so peaceful and comfortable. He couldn't help but to think to himself how lucky he was to have such an amazing woman by his side, especially in his line of work.

He found himself, staring out the window, once again thinking about peace. His eyes began to feel heavy as he slowly started to drift off to sleep again with you on his mind.

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mycryptosuite · 2 years

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cas-backwards-tie · 1 year

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Chapter Two: Cruel New World

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: It's your first-day living life in Wayne Manor. A new house, a new school, and of course there's the new siblings thing too.

Warnings: Negativity, Damian's Jealous, Talks of Death, Numbness, Depression, Disassociation,t Misandry, Crying, Suicidal Thoughts (if u squint), Existentialism, Cursing, Yelling, Outbursts, Anti-Police Rhetoric, Injury, Blood, Catcalling

Mentions of: Suicide, Body Fluids (mucus),

Words: 6.7k

A/N: POV kind of switches in some points, but I think it's fine. You know when it's the reader and when it's more of a third-person pov.

"Please take a seat, Miss Wayne," Alfred suggests as he pulls out a chair directly center of the long black cherry wood table. Your father sits at the opposite end of the room at the head of the table, while a smaller black-haired child sits with his back to the kitchen doors. There's one other person who sits directly across the table from where Alfred stands behind the chair meant for you.

"Are you serious? We really have to do this today of all days?" The child whines.

"I thought I told you no technology at the table this morning, Tim," Your father tells the person you're meant to sit across from. Ipad propped up on the table beside his plate, the teenage boy's grayish-blue eyes remain on the screen for a few moments as he shovels forkfuls of eggs into his mouth. In a tacit conversation, they make eye contact for a moment before he flips the cover back over the device and shoves it into the backpack by his feet. "Thank you.”

"You know, Bruce, I really need to get this essay done by this afternoon.” Tim—as you now know—explains.

"Oh? And what's it on?" Always wanting to get more involved in the kids' lives, Bruce attempts some sort of civil conversation other than indulging the begrudging eye-roll Damian throws him from across the table.

"It's on-" Tim begins to explain.

"You're really making us eat breakfast all together at-" Damian interjects.

"-the table like the nice, loving family we are? Pssh, you're lucky everyone's actually here this morning!" Dick cuts Damian off in an attempt to dissuade the boy's frustrations and some of his, perhaps just, points. Walking over to his chair he pulls it out enough to plop down.

"Everyone's coming?! Just for her?!" Damian, as you now know, complains.

"I'm afraid Stephanie has a doctor’s appointment, and Jason is... well," Bruce doesn't finish his explanation as he glances around the table.

"Jason," Dick defends, even if he's still somewhat suspicious of the man's current motives. "You'll meet them later, I'm sure," he tosses toward you as he sits at his chair between Tim and Damian still tying his tie.

"Why are you even here? Don't you have work? It's a Tuesday!" Damian chastizes Dick.

"Well if you must know, I have a few suspects I need to bring in for interviews today. They're extraditing a few people since the uptick last week."

"But I thought that-" A look from Dick makes Damian's thoughts linger in the air for a moment as he cuts himself off. Right. Next subject.

"I'm a detective over in Bludhaven," he explains to you, "Luckily I don't live here anymore, so... hopefully that lessens the overwhelming sense of a constant presence of people," he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

With a nod, you finally reach for your fork. It’d been bad enough that it seems more and more people are continuing to engage you when really, it’s been hell enough to process all the transitions currently taking place in your life. While it’s nice in some sense that you’d have breakfast with your Mom on school days like this, having someone cook for you, let alone push in your chair is… well… strange.

“Hello? He’s talking to you,” the sassy child spits at you, garnering your attention. Eyes flitting from him to the person sitting across from you beside Tim, you offer what you can in an attempted smile. It comes across more as a grimace than anything. The Detective politely calls your name, finally tightening his tie as he finishes dressing.

“It’s okay, I get it. This is all a lot. I asked if you ate breakfast with your—“ he spares a quick glance at your Father before it settles back on you, “—Mom, often before everything?”

Though he smiles and has a jovial and pleasant attitude, you can’t bring yourself to really return the favor. While he’s extending an olive branch of friendship, one you’d usually take up, you’re unable to. “Yeah. Nothing like this though,” you mutter, voice surprising even you with the quiet quality to it.

While the rest of breakfast is filled with questions and trivial conversation, you feel off, with a weary sense of the world. It’s almost like everything is a dream. Once you’ve finished your food, your eyes raise to take in the vase of flowers and candles on either side of it in their ornate silver holders sitting in the middle of the table. “Can I be excused?” Suddenly turned toward your Father, you await his hesitant permission before getting up and heading back to the room they’ve deemed yours just last night.

“She didn’t even look up at me when she answered any of my questions. That’s not good,” Dick points out. There's a hint of concern in his voice as he eyes Bruce.

“She’s probably still grieving her Mom. It only happened yesterday,” Tim proposes with a shrug as he looks up at Dick, who sits to his left.

“Shit,” Dick whispers.

“Do we even know how it happened?” Damian asks from the end of the table, hands clasped in front of himself like a miniature businessman.

“Damian,” Tim whispers with hostility, eyeing him for the inappropriate nature of his comment. Though he’s also curious, as it seems Dick is too, as they all look toward Bruce.

“What? I mean, her Mom dies and suddenly she’s a Wayne? No way,” Damian speaks with confidence.

With a clearing of his throat, Bruce stands. “It’s true. I… hadn’t-“ he begins, though hesitates as this wasn’t really a conversation he’d wanted to have with his teenage son of all people. “It wasn’t planned. It was a one-time thing back when I was a little more reckless with keeping up my image.”

“So during your Party Bruce years? Oh my god,” Dick quietly laughs with incredulity. He’d known about it, sure, that ‘phase’ of his Father… yet he hadn’t anticipated him to be that reckless. The look of guilt upon Bruce’s face is all it takes for them to know it’s true.

“I did the math, I looked into her mother’s history, and… it all adds up. I wouldn’t have taken custody of her yesterday if I wasn’t certain.”

“So she was an accident? Ha!” Damian laughs as if he wasn’t technically an accident on his Father’s behalf as well.

“Hey! I will not hear any jokes or have any information imparted on her with dislike. It wasn’t her fault, and I won’t see anything but acceptance and welcoming from you three, will I?” His stern voice sends chills down their spines to some degree. While Bruce doesn’t often take up a fatherly role in terms other than the awful jokes and rare wistful advice, this is a side none of them have ever gotten quite used to.

“Fine. But I’m not changing my entire life around for her. Jon is still coming over after school,” Damian announces with a click of his tongue and a cross of his arms over his chest.

“Good. Now I know this absolutely will not leave the room but I looked into her cause of death last night and it was a car crash.” With that, Bruce leaves the table.

“Sometimes things are just life, I guess,” Dick thinks aloud, still processing the information.

How cool is it that this room has a window seat? Absolutely awesome! Unfortunately, that’s not something you can fully appreciate as everything has already started to feel numb. They’d explained at the hospital that it’d been a car crash. You know the number of stitches they’d placed, the degree of burns she’d taken as they attempted several grafts to save her life… yet it wasn’t enough. There was nothing they could do. A frown overtakes your expression as a pinch of immense sadness pricks your heart.

“I’ll do it-“ you hear his voice from outside the door, “-I’m sure.” With three knocks and no response, it creaks open. Unbothered to check who it is, you watch as the rain droplets roll down the leaves on the tree outside your window and slowly drip toward the ground below. He clears his throat and shifts on his feet before speaking. “I really hate to do this to you. I know everyone processes things in their own time, but I’ve got to make arrangements on top of work today and so the best thing I can think to do is get you into a routine.” A look in his direction is all it takes; uniform neatly folded in his extended arms, your Father presents it to you with a sympathetic look on his face.

“What about Melville High?” The question leaves your lips, and all he can think is that you’re too innocent for this world. He doesn't even know you, but already the world has taken too much from you.

“It’s… too far, I’m afraid. Gotham Metro Academy is where Damian goes, and it has a lot of better opportunities from what I’ve seen. I’m sure you’ll like it once you get settled in.”

It isn’t the end of the conversation. While you’re barely responding, he imparts as much wisdom and comfort as he’s able, but it goes in one ear and out the other. All too soon you find yourself running your hands over the lapels of your navy uniform’s blazer. A prep school with uniforms was something you’d never imagined in your future—in fact—it’d been far from it! Growing up with enough money to keep you comfortable was fine, but prep school was never in the cards. You and your Mom knew that. Without too much thought to your hair and any accessories or makeup, Alfred is rushing you downstairs and into the awaiting Rolls Royce.

“Had you ever been to Gotham prior, Miss?” Alfred asks from the driver’s seat as you pull away from the infamous Wayne Manor. It looks much more opulent and welcoming in the daylight, yet it still has an intimidating air of aristocracy to you.

“Um… just once, a long time ago.” It hurts your chest to think about; there’d been a weekend you’d gone with your Mom a few years back when she’d wanted to show you all the sights. From the shows to the Financial District, to the historical sights and monuments, it’d been a weekend to remember, truly. If memory serves you right, you even still have a sweater and baseball cap tucked away somewhere from that trip.

Expecting some sort of snarky remark from the child you’ve deduced is Damian, you finally take him in. Sure, everyone’s heard of him. He’s a celebrity for what it’s worth: ‘Bruce Wayne’s Secret Son’ the headlines read. It was national news at the time, his Mom still remaining a mystery. His skin is darker than yours, and while his eyes are a striking green, you can’t deny that he has a resemblance to your Father. Neither can you deny your resemblance, either, really.

“What?” Damian finally bites. With a quiet, automatic ‘sorry’ and a shift of your eyes out the window and away from the kid on his phone, you can’t help but think about it.

Was Bruce Wayne really as much of a playboy as the media made him out to be? Yours and Damian’s mom would surely proffer the confirmation. Yet, having met the legendary man behind the technological empire, you aren’t sure he really seems the type. As much as your mother tried to keep you from boys and men, you’d met more than your fair share of assholes. Womanizers, scumbags, misogynists; no matter the differences in look or personality, there were always a few similarities they’d have in common, usually in their speech, behavior, or beliefs.

Nevertheless, it’s odd that you’ve been able to place the term ‘Father’ in his grasp so easily. Your mother had feigned a forgetful memory oftentimes when you’d ask during your childhood. Only offering the slightest of details and assuring you that he’d left the both of you as a baby. It was only as you grew that she eventually let you know that whatever relationship the two of them had, it wasn’t as serious as one would expect of a mother and father. She’d never named him, exactly, having always told you it wasn’t important. He wasn’t worth searching for, seeking out, begging for some answer you surely didn’t want to hear. Why? Why did you leave us? Why don’t you care about us? It was all a waste of time. That much, you knew. Never, even in your dreams would you imagine it’d be the Bruce Wayne.

Before you know it, the trees and streetlights are turning into buildings and stoplights. While you're nervous about going to a new school, it also provides a bit of excitement at the thought of reinventing yourself and making new friends. Surely with the funding from Wayne Enterprises, it'll have more clubs, activities, and maybe more sports, too. You'd always wanted to try out for sports or even be on the varsity squads if possible. As the car slows along the street, Alfred meets your anxious eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Damian, I expect you'll be there if Miss--" he says your name, "--needs anything. I'm going to park the car and escort you inside, as there happens to be a bit of preliminary paperwork your Father has requested I accompany you to fill out."

Surprisingly, Damian doesn't refute Alfred's sentiment, though as he parks the car, your half-brother hastily exits, headphones still in his ears as he scrolls through his phone. A quiet 'see ya later' is heard before the door slams shut. Soon enough you've filled out the registration forms and are given a schedule and tour. Alfred offers you a courteous nod and a lingering hand on your shoulder before he departs for the day. "I'll be here to pick you up when the school lets out. You can do this, Miss," he assures with a warm smile.

It was somewhat embarrassing that you'd had to interrupt class to join in on eleventh-grade, American Literature, yet upon introduction, it doesn't go past your observation that many of the kids start whispering to one another. While a few people attempt to talk to you, for the most part, you feel overwhelmed with all the information and the way the lesson quickly continues. Trying to catch up and take everything in, it all feels like too much, and the unintentional tendency to disassociate naturally begins to happen. You zone out for most of the classes, the day passing in whirlwinds and sympathetic smiles from the teachers.

When school lets out, you find Alfred exactly where he'd parked this morning in front of the school. Leant against the car with his hands clasped in front of him, you begin making your way down the steps to meet him. Two boys quickly pass you, both laughing as they playfully smack one another's arms and talk in hushed voices. As you approach the car you realize it's Damian and some boy. He has friends? Who would be friends with him? He seemed so rude earlier, you can't help but think. Maybe he's just upset because you came along.

"Who's this?" The boy in the blue jacket asks as he watches you join Alfred.

"Mister Kent," Alfred greets the boy, "I take it you'll be joining us tonight?" When the boy flashes a white smile full of bright teeth up at him with an eager nod, you take it this is a family friend.

"She's... apparently Dad's daughter," Damian reveals, eyes slicing across the space till the intimidating green orbs land on you. "Don't mind her. I planned a few things we could maybe do when we get to the Manor! I just got Mario Kart Ten and it's supposed to have a bunch of new maps and characters!"

Upon Alfred opening the car door, all three of you slide into the vehicle, the boy separating you and Damian in the backseat. "So... your sister, you mean," He laughs. Despite what he'd said about ignoring you, the boy turns his smile your way with an extension of his hand. "I'm Jon! Damian's best friend. I actually go to West Reeves but I got out early so I could catch a ride to your house. You are..?"

Revealing your name, he repeats it with a fondness as you shake his hand. "I don't know that I'd say best," Damian groans with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh hush it! Yes, you would," Jon argues, nudging your half-brother with his body as the two laugh.

"How was your first day, Miss? Did it go alright?" Alfred asks in the rearview mirror before pulling off the school's sidewalk and onto the street.

While this question was unexpected, you can't answer it. Was today good? You're unsure that any sort of sentiment could capture what today was like, truly. With your mother's death, the move, the new school, new people, and the luxury of it all... you feel unable to describe it all in one simple response. Sufficing for a nod, you purse your lips before opting for a quiet "Thanks." If nothing else, you can't deny that this old man has been kind to you since the moment you arrived. It seems he cares, but... isn't that also his job? You're not sure how butlers work, exactly, but surely that detail encompasses part of his job description, you think.

With the car parked in the driveway, you all exit the vehicle and head inside. Alfred asks if anyone wants a snack, however, you shake your head and point upstairs, signaling your destination.

You aren't sure what comes over you, a wave of hurt--sadness-angst, pain... there are endless synonyms for whatever it is that washes over you. It winds up there, lingering in your chest like a weight you hadn't realized was weighing your shoulders down. Maybe it was the attention, the comments, the questions, the energy it took to put on a 'fine' facade, yet it all finally comes crumbling down. With the click of the lock on the door, you make the final steps toward your unfamiliar bed. Letting the backpack fall from your shoulders haphazardly on the carpeted floors, you flop onto the bed face first, chest hitting the plush comforter before the rest of your body follows, the rebound sending your body bouncing slightly. Face screwing up into one of pain, you do your best to hold it back, and you're not quite sure why. No one's around, no one cares, so why won't you let yourself cry? Would that make it all real? Would that mean you're accepting her death? That she's really gone? That you're letting go? Moving on with your life? Thoughts of guilt consume you as you feel as though you should've known, you should've called her, said something, asked her to pick you up that day. Anything would've changed the chain in the course of events, right?

It's then, with the realization of the butterfly effect that a sob wracks your chest and tears stream down your cheeks. Like rapid fire, the sting of hot, salty tears cascade down your skin leaving streaks of mascara in its wake, you're sure. Screaming into your pillow, you can't help but struggle to breathe as you're not sure what to do. How do you move on from this? Where do you begin? What's left in your life, really? What does anything matter if she's gone? Your mom? The only person who's been there through your whole life from the beginning till... well, now. She was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime, your... everything. At the end of every day you always knew you'd have her to go back to. Never has the fear of being alone crossed your mind until right this second. Now you understand why so many people commit suicide each year. If their pain feels anything like this, then you understand. All you can think, wish, and mentally pray for is this to stop. For the tears to stop falling and your breath to stop coming in quick bursts of panicked, hyperventilating heaves. Snot runs down your lips and it's hard to see with the blurriness of the tears in your eyes.

After a while, the crying eventually dies down and you lie--wishfully--lifeless on your bed. A small hand towel you'd grabbed from the bathroom is folded under your face where the tears would fall and you've folded it over the few times you'd blown your mucousy snot into it. Silence consumes the room, and you've found yourself simply staring up at the ceiling for what feels like hours. Constantly caught in your thoughts, between crying and being eerily silent, you're unsure if all this was destined to happen. Or maybe it was supposed to come out sooner. Maybe it's only because you've been pushing everything down into a deep dark place that only feels safe for you to express once you're absolutely sure you're alone.

In the midst of a quiet moment, your eyes and throat sore, head throbbing, there's a knock at the door. "Dinner will be served in just a few minutes." It's Alfred. You hope he hadn't heard your crying, though if he had... what can you really do? Nothing... just like everything else in life. You can't do anything.

With a quick splash of cold water on your face, hands combing your hair down, and making sure you look as presentable as possible, you're ready. Aside from the slight red tinge that lingers around your eyes and the dark circles beneath them that are impossible to get rid of, you head downstairs. While you're sat in the same spot as this morning, you're joined by many more people this time. Bruce and Damian both sit at the ends of the table again, Tim sits across from you, though this time he's flanked by the Detective, and another man you don't recognize. He has a white stripe in his hair and a longer face than the others, but it suits him with his angular features. On your right sits a very tall and broad man clad in a business suit and glasses. Past him, sits Jon--who you'd met this afternoon--and across from him there's one more person who makes the table uneven in terms of people. It's a blonde girl, with an enticing sparkle in her eyes and a charming smile from what you can see from the other side of the table.

"This is my good friend, and Jon's dad, Clark Kent," Bruce introduces, gesturing to the man beside you. Said man holds out his big hand and offers a friendly smile.

"Pleasure to meet you," he recites your name and you reciprocate the handshake. It's good to know that not everyone in Damian's association is a complete asshole, you suppose.

"Nice to meet you too," you respond quietly. With the meal served, everyone dives into eating, leaving you a little unsettled. While your mother had come from a very religious upbringing, she hadn't forced it on you. Yet, you'd still find yourself and your mom praying before dinner to whatever God or higher deity might exist. In a way, it was more to give thanks each day for being alive and having food on the table. Sometimes it was a conversation starter when someone would mention what their day entailed, the good things they'd seen, or maybe the bad things they'd ask for protection from. Nevertheless, it's clear that this family operates differently; digging your fork into the fancy black-peppered pork roast, you use your knife to slice a piece off for yourself. Not in the mood to talk at the moment, you simply listen to what everyone's discussing.

With the lack of response they'd gotten from you, Bruce opts for talking to Clark about business and how things have been. Dick and Tim fill in the mysterious man on the little they knew of you. The blonde girl talks with the younger boys at the end of the table at moments but also butts into the other conversation among the young adults diagonally across the table from you. Stabbing multiple string green beans onto your fork, you don't make eye contact with anyone as you simply try to get through this dinner. Maybe then you can go upstairs and try to relax away from everyone.

"-something we shouldn't really talk about too much, but I can guess the funeral will be by the end of next week with all the arrangements I made today," Bruce speaks to Clark.

"Wait, what?" Your voice is quiet, only drawing the attention of those sitting closest to you. Butting into their conversation, you raise your eyes to meet your Father's surprised blue eyes.

"The funeral will be at the end of next week, I'm presuming. It'll take a little while with all the arrangements," he repeats. Though he seems hesitant, he doesn't keep himself from speaking it again. After all, he's someone who stands behind his actions.

"What? Why?" Your fork clanks against the chinaware, lips parted in shock as you dropped it. "You made the arrangements without me?"

"Yes. It was important that you go to school and it was all right there in the will." Forkful of mashed potatoes lingering in the air as his blue eyes bore into yours, you find your breath beginning to rise and fall at a faster rate.

Of course, none of them know your buttons and what it looks like once they've been pressed, but if your mother was here right now, she'd know. With a screech of the chair being pushed back hastily and a quiet slam of your palms on the table to stand, you're livid. "Why would you do that? How could you do that?!" Hands shaking, you begin to gesticulate, any former semblance of masked placation now fallen. All eyes are transfixed on your figure. "She's my mother! Mine! You don't even know her- I do! I know what she would've wanted, and this isn't it. What, just because your name was on my birth certificate that means you get to take over my life? You, who doesn't even know anything about me, and yet you act like we're best friends! Your children call you 'Bruce' and you have no problem with it! You don't get to just come into my life and fuck everything up! You sleep with her once, what? Sixteen years ago and now you come in and take everything?" A wry laugh leaves your lips, "Well, more for you, I guess! Did you ever stop to think that there's a reason I had no idea who you were? Let alone, why she never told me? She never once asked for your money or your help, and now I'm just here. All my stuff? Gone. All my friends and family? Gone, a-"

"-We can go get your-" The Detective begins.

"-Oh, shut up! You really think anyone wants to hear what you have to say? You're adopted, you're not even related to me! You don't know me. None of you do! The only good thing about this is I don't have to put up with being interrogated by the BPD every goddamn time I walk down the halls of school. But I'd at least take that over never seeing my friends again!"

"-What do you mean?" He follows up, commenting over you. Everyone else looks around the table silently, taken aback by what they're witnessing.

"You want to 'Bring Justice to Bludhaven', I guess, when everyone already knows what happened to Perdy Chapman! Everyone except the BPD, I guess!"

"How dare you?! You can't speak to my brother like that, you-"

"Finally! The only person I'm actually related to here. My half-brother, the mysterious 'Wayne Boy' who doesn't have a mom! You have no fucking empathy for me, you've been giving me shit all day! And yet you're the only person I would've expected to actually give a damn! So sit your ass down, pendejo twerp!"

Without asking for permission you storm out of the dining room and through the living room toward the staircase.

"I'm guessing you're done with your dinner?"

The voice stops you in your tracks, hand on the banister, you let out a loud sigh, shoulders falling before you try to maintain a jovial demeanor when turning to him. "I don't need you to do anything for me, Alfred. I think it's fucking ridiculous to have a servant when it's the twenty-first century, for crying out loud!"

"It's my job. I assure you he pays me, if that makes it any better," Alfred speaks in a calm tone, unfazed by your words or behavior.

"Great! Well, I still don't need you doing things for me that I can do myself. Thank you, though," while the words come out through tense, grit-together teeth, you turn and head upstairs. It doesn't take long to get to your backpack, slinging it over your shoulders. Luckily, this was the one thing you knew you could do with the advantages of not only your room but a backyard. Opening the window, you climb out onto the tree branch a few feet away.

Soon enough, you're on solid ground, out of the boundaries and gate of Wayne Manor. With a heaving chest and shaky hands, you speedwalk down the road toward where you know the bridge will be heading into Bludhaven from the transfer point on the Eastern Seaboard. This time for whatever reason, you can't bring yourself to cry. Maybe all the tears had already flooded from your body this evening, but nothing emanates from your tear ducts. Eyeing the blood that's already starting to dry on your palms from the splinters and the last little drop you'd had to take from the tree, you scraped your palm.

It'd been silent upon your departure from the dining room. Bruce insisted that everyone return to eating, that everything was fine, and that this wasn't unexpected. While things returned normal for the most part, Jason excused himself with a look toward his father. It wasn't until an alarm rang from Bruce's phone that he groaned and pulled it out only to find the surveillance outside capturing your figure leaving the premises. Announcing what the 'emergency' was, at everyone's persistence, Jon ran out of the room before Bruce could elect Clark to go check where you were headed.

It's a lone road, cypress trees lining it and gravel-filled sides. With it only being garnered by private property of the elite, and no real intersections for miles, no cars pass in either direction. As the sound of a faraway motorcycle approaches, you don't let it deter you. It'll be at least an hour or more before any of them realize you've left the property. They all think you're just upstairs crying to yourself, most likely. Rage still swirls in your gut, however, it's drained somewhat, being replaced by the determination to get home. A billionaire, his family, servants, and even a few splinters won't stop you. It doesn't strike you as odd that the sound of the nearing motorcycle slows; after all, not many people hitchhike on this road, you're guessing, and with the speed limit being higher in this area.

Jon had been faster, intrigued for some reason--his justification upon later questioning--to find out where you were going. Clark trails behind him, neither of them bothering to change clothes as they fly above the closest road, trailing you from a distance silently. It's only when they spot the motorcyclist approaching you that they hold their position.

"Where do you think you're going?" The voice is unfamiliar. While being catcalled isn't a stranger to you, it's still annoying that it'll happen in the middle of fucking nowhere. Ignoring the motorcycle that now stalls to your left, you continue walking with determination, eyes ahead and fists wrapped around each strap of your backpack upon your stiff shoulders. "Really? You're gonna ignore me and play it that way? Get on the motorcycle," the man calls your nickname, which elicits a reaction from you.

Eyes widening and lips parting, and eyebrows shooting upward, you finally look at the man. You don't remember his name, but he'd been sitting at the table across from you between Tim and that Detective. Expression immediately turning into one of anger, your jaw setting, you feel reinspired to make your way to Bludhaven. "I'm not going back! I can't," you argue, "plus I don't even know you. Why would I go with you?!"

A chuckle leaves his lips and you hear the shifting of plastic before the motorcycle revs in a way that elicits an automatic jump from your body. The motorcycle speeds a few feet down the road before it does a loop and skirts into a stopped position just a few feet in front of you. Legs on either side of the vehicle, the man flicks the visor of his helmet back up and reaches into the back compartment, producing another. Before you have time to react, he throws the helmet your way. Hands instinctively reach out to catch it instead of letting yourself get hit with the speed of it. You wince; it pushes the splinters further into your palm. You come to a standstill a few feet away from him as you lift the helmet slowly only to see the blood starting to pool around them again.

"I'm Jason," he reveals, "I don't know where you plan to go, running away like this, but you don't think the old man will notice you're gone sooner than later? What's your plan then?"

Irritation and a desperate anger linger in your chest as your eyes finally raise to meet his. "Well, Jason, it's none of your business! Regardless, it doesn't matter. You can't stop me." Approaching him, you're about to shove the helmet in his hands when he raises one of his own, palm facing you.

"Truce? Look, I know you don't know me, but I was like you. I grew up in Crime Alley and had to steal tires for a living. I tried to steal the-" he stops himself, another chuckle escaping his lips, "the old man's, and that's how we met. I get it... it's not easy, and, no one expects you to just go along with everything, alright? If you're thinking about going home, well, that'll take what-? Hours? You really want to walk for hours to... where are you from, again? Bludhaven? What part?"

"Canaveron District, yeah," you respond gruffly, some of the tension leaving your shoulders.

"You won't get there for another three hours walking, at best. If you just want to get your things, well, I can take you there. But we'd have to get everyone else-"

"No! no, I don't want-"

"-If you let me finish," he warns, "I was going to say get the others to help tomorrow or this weekend, we can get the rest. Alright? Just essentials, and I bring you right back here. Got it?" His eyes search yours for a moment before he adds, "That's the best I can do for you, kid. Otherwise, I've gotta drag you back to the Manor kicking and screaming, which I really don't want to do."

"He sent you?" You weren't too surprised, only that if anyone was coming, you figured it would've been Bruce, himself. It's only when Jason notices you looking around and contemplating your decision that he cocks his head toward the Manor, signaling the Kents to leave. He's got this.

"No. I came, because... unlike those other dicks, I actually know what it's like to come from, well, somewhere that's not the greatest," he admits, a look of sympathy and understanding in his eyes.

"And this isn't some scam? You just tell me this, get me on the bike, and then take me back to the White House?" This elicits a laugh from the man, and he runs a gloved hand through his black and white hair.

"Look, I don't know how much they've mentioned about me, but... let's just say I'm not exactly in Bruce's good favor if you know what I mean." Reading the look on your face, he expands. "I'm not exactly the goody-two-shoes of the family. If you want your stuff, I'll take you, but only because I know he wouldn't do that."

"Why?" Standing in silence, the two of you search one another's eyes for any sense of understanding. It's tacit, the question that you both know you were really asking, yet he doesn't make you voice it: why would you do this for me?

"Because I know what it's like to have everything taken from you." A sigh leaves his lips, and you can tell simply from his stance and demeanor that this man has been through much more than he's letting on. "If you wanna do this, we should get going. I can't be out too late tonight. You coming? Or should I call the old man and let him know what your plan is?" With a raised brow and eyes flicking toward the helmet in your hands and back to your eyes, he awaits an answer.

"I'm coming." Sliding the helmet over your head, you approach the vehicle. "Just... don't tell him, please! At least don't tell him for another... fifteen minutes?" The request elicits a questioning look before a smirk replaces it.

"Deal. Hang on," he requests. Shifting the bike to stand upright, he leans closer and reaches under your chin to clip a strap in place you hadn't noticed. He tightens it, checks with you, and then gets onto the bike. "You ever ridden a motorcycle?"

With a thick swallow, your eyes shift from his to the bike. Sliding over the seat, you're unsure where to place your feet, but Jason instructs you, making sure you're comfortable before you slide your arms around his waist and brace for takeoff. Visor flicked down and everything in place, he revs the motorcycle before speeding down the road.

Beneath the helmet, the ends of your hair tickle your arm as it whips through the air. Cool breeze wooshes past your body, arms able to feel the chill through the blazer, your legs gaining goosebumps through the exhilarating experience. Cypress trees turn into willows, which become more and more sparse as gates and brick walls slowly fade with the elitist properties into cemeteries and then into more forest before turning more industrial. As different plants and factories appear, so do the cars. Jason weaves in and out of traffic as he maneuvers his way down the highway and onto the bridge that winds around Gotham and finally goes into Bludhaven. The lights and sights passing this fast is intimidating at the thought of crashing, however, it's thrilling in a way you've also never experienced. Skyscrapers line the island, lights, signs, and monuments only add a sort of fascination and exuberant liveliness to it. As the Wayne Enterprises sign passes, you finally feel comfortable enough to remove one hand from Jason's side for a moment, long enough to flash a quick middle finger at the sign before fearfully grabbing onto his jacket again.

With a laugh and shake of his head, he removes a hand from the handlebar to flip a bird alongside her, eliciting what he thinks is a laugh. Nevertheless, he can feel the fear in her grip so he returns his hand to the handlebars and makes sure to keep his focus on the road. It's not likely they'd crash, not unless someone was out for him and knows his bike, and his civilian identity. Not that he goes too far out of his way to hide it, but it's not impossible. He's confident in his abilities, but considering they don't know each other the best, he doesn't do anything to further scare her.

As he draws nearer to the Canaveron District, he slows down enough for her to give him directions. Parking the bike outside the apartment complex she's identified, Jason helps her off the bike and stashes the helmets in the back. "Lead the way, little lady," he encourages.

~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980

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garbinge · 5 months

Text

But Not Today

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: Part 2 from Maybe One Day // Chibs comes to visit you on the farm.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I've been thinking about these two a lot </3 Part 1

Your chest was rising and falling as you caught your breath and stared at the ceiling. It was the moment where all your wits and sanity came back over you and the thoughts of what just happened came flooding in. The smell of his Scottish cologne and cigarettes filled the empty space on the bed next to you, it was still warm to the touch. You heard the water from the faucet turn off and any thought that was sneaking in your brain was now being rushed out as Chibs reappeared in your room. His hands were tangling through his shirt as he put it back on. Your eyes darted from him to his kutte, waiting to see if he was going to put it on. That’s when your heart began to race even more. The thought of him leaving made you uneasy, he had come all the way up here to the farm to see you and explained nothing. It was partially your fault too, you made pleasantries, some quick small talk but before any explanation was given you were kissing him and dragging him into your room.

“What’s with the face, love?” Chibs spoke as he grabbed his kutte, your heart sinking with it.

“Leaving already?” Your eyes moved back to his.

A smile grew on his face as he shrugged the leather over his shoulders. “You promised me uh tour, didn’ya? If I ‘member correctly you said sum ‘bout chickens?”

The way the relief washed over you made you sad for a minute. You knew this was a feeling you’d feel again, that it’d be heavy when it happened, but you took a deep breath and tried to stay in the moment.

“Earl, Tootsie, Olive, and Jameson.” You named them off as you stood up and re-dressed.

Chibs was now grinning as he waited for you to get ready. “Jameson, huh?” He asked pulling out a cigarette to hang in his mouth, eager to get outside and smoke it.

“Abel and Thomas named them when they were young kids, but I made sure I suggested one.”

Chibs was holding out your sweatshirt for you. You approached and grabbed it from him but instead of letting go he pulled you closer. “Not tha only thing you have ‘round here as a reminder of me.” His face was dangerously close to yours as he looked down at the sweatshirt. It was the one item of his you could still wear around. There were no SAMCRO tags, just a black zip-up that barely had his scent left on it.

“I’ve got pictures too.” You said stealing the zip-up back from him and placing a kiss on the left side of his mouth where the cigarette wasn’t dangling from his lips. Moving past him you made your way to the backdoor, the barn dog you got quickly getting up from her bed and moving to the sliding door just waiting to run around to herd the few goats you had.

“Where’re the boys?” Chibs asked as he walked behind you.

“Thomas is with Nero. Tuesdays he picks him up from school and takes him to basketball practice.” You spoke as the door slid open and the door ran past your legs. “Abel is 16— I’m lucky if I know what he’s wearing for the day. I thought Gemma was being exaggerated when she’d talk about the “Teller Terrible Teens” but Abel has made her words an understatement.”

Chibs looked to you with a frown as you stepped onto the back deck and made your way down to the farmland.

“It’s not horrible. He’s not a dick to me, he helps out when I ask. He just– he questions everything, he’s asking about Jax, he’s getting into trouble at school.” You shook your head thinking about these last few weeks and how Abel had been acting out.

“The worst part is, he reminds me of him so much. The way he looks, the way he talks.” You laughed as you unlatched the barn fence and moved around it to look at Chibs and invite him in with the sway of your arm. “Yesterday, we were at the grocery store and he looked at the girl bagging our shit and said, “thanks, darlin’” I swore I was looking at Jax, I froze for a minute and just stared at him.” You laughed again.

Chibs laughed with you knowing it sounded just like the boy’s father.

“He’s probably out with his friends on his dirt bikes in the back trails.” You spoke as you walked through the goat pasture. “They probably do real stupid shit but I’d rather them do it on the property than at some random’s house or parking lot downtown. I’ve turned them into real country boys.” You turned back to see Chibs admiring everything around him. He was still listening to you but he was taking in the sight around him.

“This is the goat pasture, Billie girl, our dog, loves herding them, honestly I got ‘em because I don’t have to mow the lawn as much. We’ve got 1 horse, Delilah, real beauty, she’s back in that red barn over there. Then there’s the chickens. We had more but they aged out, now we’re down to the four. Waiting to get 12 more, can’t go to the Farmer’s market with only 2 dozen eggs, you know?” The words were falling out fast as you spoke, nervous habit, but it didn’t stop you from beaming as you showed Chibs around.

“You seem happy.” Chibs couldn’t help but smile as he took in every word you said. The both of you approached the back deck and plopped down on the rocking chairs Nero insisted you kept back here for company. It was an argument between you two when you first moved onto the farm. You looked at him like he was crazy when he mentioned company. It was hard to believe a normal life with having people over could exist when you were running from what you were running from.

You looked over at Chibs as he looked right back at you after making his last comment, the smile on your face wasn’t at his words but at the memory of Nero’s.

“I don’t know about happy.” You began to shake your head. “But, I don’t know I’m content, I’m…” Your mind wandered to find the right word.

“At peace.” Chibs nodded as he finished your sentence, not even bothering to look at your eyes to see if his words were correct, he knew they were.

You would have agreed with a nod but Chibs was looking out at the farm, his fave had fallen into an expression that was hard to read. He seemed…bittersweet. Happy but yet sad.

As he stared out at the barn he nodded his head and said something under his breath.

“The Universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.”

“What?” You leaned forward, frown filling your face as the familiar sentiment fell from his lips. It was hard to really pinpoint anything since he spoke it at a mumble.

“I, uh.” Chibs reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket notebook. “found this. In the garage. S’why I came out here, figured you should have it.” He handed over one of Jax’s notebooks. You knew what it was immediately, it matched the style of the other one you had.

“I read it.” Chibs said those three words with multiple emotions behind it. Regret and apologies, for intruding on whatever privacy there was there, but also firmness and understanding like something in there just made sense.

“And?” You rested your elbows on your knees.

“‘nd, it’s’y I came here and didn’t mail it out.” He looked troubled now. “I wanted to make sure you were settled.”

Now that statement held more weight knowing what he had just mumbled under his breath.

“I guess I am.” You hated that the words felt like they were breaking his heart.

“You are, love.” Chibs spoke with certainty.

You looked out onto the farm, taking in the life you had. It was different than the life you had been born into, forced into. The life that took pretty much everything away from you.

“It’s impossible to be at peace in that town.” You said the words outloud. It felt relieving to say it. All this time you had never said it outloud, they were just thoughts that danced around you head.

“Don’t I know it.” Chibs agreed with you.

That made your head turn to him, a little shocked. All your conversations when you were together, or involved was probably the better word, back in Charming never were really about the big problem. Sure, you two talked about club stuff, the things members told their ol’ ladies, about your brother, about Jimmy O, about a lot, but never the real source.

“What are you saying?” You questioned him, more bold than you ever would have before.

“Things are different. Things are messy.” He wanted to share but you could tell he was hesitant, that he was trying to ease back into your dynamic and add another layer to it. But the loyalty to the club ran deep, that was a multi-decade long habit that he was trying to break for the first time.

“Doesn’t sound different.” That was the new you coming up to speak. The you that lost your brother, your brother’s best friend, your mother, your father to the club.

Chibs nodded at that. “We’re getting into it with the Mayans. Other charters, they’re falling apart, it’s bleeding into SAMCRO.”

“Yea, doesn’t sound different at all.” You crossed your arms and fell back into the rocking chair.

“Your brother–Jax–Jackie boy,” Chibs went through all the names he’d call Jackson Teller, smiling at the last one before letting his lips fall, “this wasn’t what he wanted, he worked hard to leave everything in a good place and it’s like shit unraveled.”

You could tell he was venting to you, you could tell he hadn’t been able to do this with anyone else in his life, no one from the club, no one in his love life, it could’ve made you feel special, a characteristic Chibs never failed at with you, but this wasn’t so much of a fail but just not something you could ever feel special about again.

“As someone who's seen it before, from the outside but up close and personal. This doesn’t seem different at all.”

It was the same statement you kept repeating, but this time, the way you said this, it made him look at you. His eyes were low, tired, and you could see the gloss and redness in them as he held back tears. Two strands of his long salt and pepper hair escaped from his sunglasses and fell in front of his eyes, oily and dirty you could tell he was going through it.

He didn’t need to say anything, you knew he was looking at you to elaborate.

It was mean to laugh, but you felt that you had the right to after everything you’ve been through and talking about it now was bringing that bitterness up.

“You’re so deep in it, you don’t even see what’s plain in front of your eyes.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath letting the irritation leave your tone for the next sentence out of your mouth. “Your next. Everyone who's held that gavel ends up in the same place, making the same mistakes as the one previous, no matter how hard they try not to.”

Chibs took in what you said.

“Jax tried so hard to be JT, then tried so hard not to be him. Both of those things dug that grave for him. He loved the club more than anything and the club couldn’t love him back.” You were saying things that you had locked away in your mind for years, things you thought about as you buried your brother, as you packed your life up and left. “The club will never love you back.” You looked at Chibs. “Those guys might love you, but the club never will.”

“Do you?”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to change the subject, at first your head snapped to him with a smirk and a snappy remark to shoot back at him but you saw his face that was looking out at the farm.

“Never stopped.”

The words made him look at you and you smiled at him. Your head tilted and lowered to meet him at eye level since he was leaning his elbows on his knees. “Best part is, the farm,” you tilted your head a little more before leveling it out, “it loves you back.” You nodded. “Every animal, every acre of land, the boys even when they fucking hate you for embarrasing them in front of a girl,” you laughed at that one and smiled hoping the last one was going to be enough to convince him, “me.”

The tear dropped at that one. His eyes shut tight as a couple more fell.

“Move here. You can open up a garage, we have the buildings for it, Nero would even let you put something up closer to the road, you can come with me to the Farmer’s market, you can drive me to the vet at 2 in the morning when I’m worried that Billie got into something or that one of the chicken’s has a fever,” you chuckled, “you can ride dirt bikes with the boys and tell them about Jax, not SAMCRO president, but your best friend, how you fell in love with your best friend’s sister, you can wake up and feel settled, feel at peace.”

Chibs wanted to say yes. He wanted to build a fire and burn the kutte right here right now, but he knew it wasn’t that easy. In this moment it was but as the thought settled, as the days would pass, he’d think about it, he’d dwell in it, wonder if he made the right decision, miss the kutte, miss the guys.

“It’s not that easy, love.” Chibs tired to level with you.

“Doesn’t seem like the life you’re living now is either.” You would beg him, it wasn’t below you to beg. “It’s going to kill you.” You were firm in your words, it wasn’t begging but you thought it might have an impact on him. “The club is going to kill you.”

“A normal life would too.” He answered too quickly and immediately you knew it was a losing argument.

The sound of an engine and the gravel dirt being stirred up and you knew it was Thomas and Nero coming back home. Chibs looked over and saw them pulling into the driveway when he stood up.

“Was really good seeing you, love.” He put his hand on your cheek and looked down at you. “Really good.” His thumb caressed your cheek and he smiled.

You nodded in agreement and thanked him for the journal. His hand was still on your cheek when you shut your eyes tight. “Don’t come back here unless the ink is blacked out and the kutte is off.”

The words broke you to say, but it was more than just you that you had to look out for. You had two boys to think of and the man who was generous enough to give you half of his acreage to live on.

“Ay.” He agreed with no disdain in his voice, if anything it was littered with understanding and what you hoped was well, hope.

Your eyelids remained shut as his hand dropped and he walked off the back porch. You heard the car doors close but no words exchanged. If you weren’t dealing with everything that just happened in your head right now you’d be imagining the way Nero was probably lifting his sunglasses while Chibs was lowering his, the nods both would give to eachother, the curious questioning look on Thomas’ face as he tried to place the visitor.

“You alright?” Nero’s voice was filling your ears and you wished it offered up the level of comfort it normally did.

The tears were wiped from your face immediately and you stood and smiled. “Yea, I’m good.”

Nero knew you weren’t but he also knew you weren’t going to share with Thomas two steps from joining you on the porch.

“Who was that?” Thomas was asking as he looked down at the snack he was fidgeting with to open.

Your gaze looked at Nero and said so much while not speaking at all. Before you either had a chance to answer, another voice was coming from the other direction as the back door swung open. “Was that guy on the bike here at the farm?” Abel’s voice was like a knife to your heart.

“Yea, it was someone looking to sell me something.” You lied straight through your teeth to both boys.

“Oh.” Thomas said as he passed by both you and Nero without second guessing your statement and walked right past his older brother into the house.

Abel looked like he might need more convincing but you could tell he decided to drop it. “I’m goin’ out later but I picked up the feed order and left it in the ATV wagon.”

“12AM curfew.” You pointed at him and he waved you off but you knew he’d be back before 1.

“What was he sellin’?” Nero asked you, the only one besides you who knew exactly who it was that was here.

You looked at Nero and shook your head at him.

“A dream.”

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