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hvcmixtape · 8 months

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love's all fair when you're checking the decisions between you and seungkwan on the basketball court on the island of jeju

pairing: seungkwan x reader themes: vacation!(Y/N), resort worker!seungkwan, jeju!seungkwan, there's no mention of caffeine but assume seungkwan still has his caffeine addiction 🤣 wc: ~2600 genre: fluff note: first fic released in a long while! hope you enjoy this AU :>

“I know you say you’re trying, but are you really?” Seungkwan teases you with a fiery tongue. He looks down at you as if the whole world is in his hand, the corner of his lips digging deep into his smirk. With the basketball cradled in his palm, you shoot daggers into his eyes. Who does he think he is, Troy Bolton?

You're the only two on the court at this late hour, but it's only because of the consequences of your own actions, all of which started just earlier that day.

It's your yearly vacation with your family and they decided, why not go to a resort where the destination is the journey itself?

As soon as you heard that come from your mom's mouth, you weren't sure what to make of the next week you'd be spending in Jeju, a place you'd been to a few times before. You've already visited the major attractions on the island, like hiking the Hallasan volcano, so what are a few more hikes? But realistically, who are you to deny your parents, the ones paying for the vacation in the first place?

Packing was difficult as you've thrown random clothing that you'll hope will make cute outfits when you're on the beachy island, and as soon as you know it, you're on the flight to Jeju, then in the shuttle to the resort, and then your ass is kissing the seat to a poolside view.

September is one of the best times to visit Jeju—the rainy season is starting to die down, but it's still bright and warm outside when there aren't any clouds. There aren't as many tourists at this time, but you've soon figured out that this is the time for locals to make the trip to Jeju so it's almost as crowded as you figured it would be. You suppose it's just another testament to how amazing Korea's geography can be.

As you sip on your drink, your mom beside you flips through one of the many brochures they handed her at check-in.

"Me and dad want to do a cooking class," she says after reading the description. "They'll teach us how to make paella; it's a Spanish rice dish."

"That sounds really yummy," you mindlessly reply, but as soon as you say that, she places one on your torso. "You want me to find things to do too?"

"Why not? Weren't you complaining and asking why we were coming back to Jeju? That's why I chose this place," your mom roughly says. "You don't have to do everything, but at least do something other than staying by the pool all day."

"I guess," you grumble, finally opening the pamphlet. There are a lot of things to try out: surfing and scuba diving caught your eye, but you weren't sure how you'd fare with those very physical activities. When you flip to the other side of the paper, your eyes are drawn to the left side. "Mom, they have an activity center for people my age—"

"Try it out! It'll be fun. Maybe you can go there after lunch and see what things they have planned for the day."

Lunch comes and goes and you have no choice but to venture off on your own, as your parents decided they want to do a wine tasting in the downtown area, taking the rental car with them.

Your first step is to approach the reception area, where you find a young man, probably around your age, manning the desk.

"Hi, good afternoon, how can I help you?" His full cheeks give him a boyish look, and his messy hair just adds to his appearance. He's wearing the same linen shirt the other staff you've seen wear, but on him, it looks just a little bit better.

"I was wondering if you have any information on the young adult activity center here. I saw it in one of the brochures."

A smile beams on his face. "You've come to the right place. I'm the worker in charge of the young adult activity center. I'm Seungkwan."

He puts out a hand for you to shake, and you accept it right away. "My name is (Y/N), it's nice to meet you," you reply back. "When are there usually activities during the day? I'm staying at the resort until the end of the week."

"Usually every few hours is a light activity and sometimes, we do excursions. Let me check to see what we have for today."

As Seungkwan pulls up the schedule on his computer, you say, "You seem a little young to be working at a resort full-time?"

He chuckles, pulling his focus toward you. "This is actually my aunt's resort. I'm working with her until I manage to figure out what I want to do. But I am 21, so I'm not totally young."

"Oh, I'm only a little bit older than you. I'm just turned 22," you reply. "But this seems like a fun job."

"Yeah, I like it most of the time. I'm sort of thinking of going into the entertainment industry, so I'd say this is good practice." Seungkwan shrugs. "So, for today's schedule, we're planning on hiking around the Cheonjeyeon waterfalls. We'll meet at 3:30 so we can make it for the sunset and head back right after that."

"Sounds good. Where's the meeting spot?"

"It'll be right here at the reception desk. We usually have 5 to 10 people come around, especially for the hikes. And since we're at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn, not as many young adults are here." There's something in that sentence that makes you raise an eyebrow but you don't think further of it.

"I'll see you at 3:30 then," you smile. "See you later, Seungkwan."

You find him later on with a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of his head, waving around a tiny green flag. You can't help but laugh at how cutely he spins the flag in circles as he raises his hand high above his head.

"Hi Seungkwan," you say as you approach the group of 7 people so far. Most seem around your age but some have younger faces.

"Hi, (Y/N). You look ready to hike," he smiles and leans in toward your ear, making you feel some type of way when his breath tickles your ear when he speaks. "Some people seem like they've been forced to come by their parents."

You chuckle at his hushed tone and take a good look around you, where everyone is wearing completely different styles that might not be the best for hiking to a waterfall. One guy is wearing an all-white outfit, and you know that can't be good news for a hike.

"I suppose you get this often then?" You ask, as you turn away from him and you rummage through your backpack to find the sunscreen that you'll definitely need with the sun's rays still beating down at this time.

Seungkwan's eyes are stuck on your hands as they glide the sunscreen along your arms and shoulders, not even able to answer your question. He bites his lip as he can see you try to reach the exposed parts of your back with your fingers that just can't find a way there, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Can," you look back at him with a pleading smile. "Can you put sunscreen on the parts I can't get?"

He doesn't have much of a choice and he accepts the bottle with a flushed face. "Sure," he says, squeezing the product onto his hand and watching the cream soak into your skin. He's embarrassed to admit that he knows the spots on your back that didn't get covered.

"Thanks!" You beam with a bright smile as you turn toward him, not knowing that he'll be thinking about that moment for a long while.

"Bye, Seoyeong, it was nice meeting you!" You wave to a girl who leaves almost as soon as the group returns to the lobby. She doesn't say much back, but you hope you'll get to see her again in the next few days that you're still here.

As people start to break ways, you're reluctant to leave. "Do people usually leave right away, or do they hang around?" You ask Seungkwan. He says he's still on the clock, whether he's with the young adults' group or he returns to manning the front desk, so it doesn't matter much to him how he spends the last part of his day.

"Most leave right away, but you're more than welcome to hang around if you want." Seungkwan smiles and it's the first time you've felt like you want to absolutely squish his cheeks.

You fold your fingers tight, not letting them leave your side. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not. We can get to know each other better, and," he glances down at his watch. "I get off of work in 45 minutes and that was a pretty hefty hike, so we can grab food if you want? I can take you somewhere outside of the resort."

...Is this a date?

After letting your mother know that you're off to eat dinner with one of the people you've met at the hike, you click your seatbelt buckle and are ready to go wherever he leads you. Never mind the fact that you've known him for half the day—you are usually more aware than this—but you just feel good about Seungkwan. Something feels right about him.

"Do you like hamburgers?" Seungkwan asks as he adjusts the mirrors of his car. You can feel your heart pattering against your chest from such a domestic action.

"Yeah. I get them often with my friends after classes." You go deeper into conversation about your academic aspirations when he wonders what courses you're taking, and it's nice, to say the least. You enjoy getting to know someone better and it definitely doesn't hurt that you find him attractive. Maybe he's just being nice and maybe he's done this with other people who have been to the resort and met up with him, but you're only here for a few days anyway. If things don't work out, it's fine.

Seungkwan's a smooth driver as you glaze over his appearance: his brown hair floating up and down when the wind blows through it, the wire glasses that perch on his nose, and a smile that comes about often when he's speaking. He doesn't let the conversation drop, making sure he's nodding his head in acknowledgment while also keeping his eyes on the road.

As he approaches the parking lot of the restaurant, you mention that parking is so difficult.

"No, it's pretty easy," Seungkwan shakes his head. He removes his hand from the wheel and places it on the back of your seat as he reverses the car into the space.

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, trying to look in the side mirror if your face can get any redder.

After you head into the restaurant and order your food, you look out the window and even a simple hamburger place has the best views. "I wouldn't see the ocean while eating a burger like this in Seoul."

"Just another great thing about Jeju," Seungkwan says as he digs into his burger. "This is my favorite burger place, I go here pretty often whenever I finish a shift."

"I like your shirt, by the way. It looks good on you," you blurt out and you can't help but take a huge bite of your burger so you can shut up.

Seungkwan sets down his burger and covers his laugh with a napkin. "Thanks," he replies after he settles down. It's a simple outfit—just a blue button-up with a white inner shirt, but it's the rolled-up sleeves that do it for you.

You move on from that topic as soon as you can.

"Thanks for taking me there, Seungkwan," You grin as you walk out potbellied after the meal. "And thank you for paying for me too, you didn't have to."

"Just wanted to show you around is all, so it's my pleasure."

You're not quite sure what he means of it, but he brings you to a walkway that leads down to the coast. "This is a nice place to walk along," you say as your shoes crush the sand below you.

"Yeah, I usually like to exercise after my meals, especially with burgers," he laughs at himself.

The two of you walk in silence for a little bit, taking in the sights and sounds of Jeju, a place Seungkwan has known forever and a place you're just here to touch on for a few days.

"Hey," Seungkwan pipes up. "Do you like basketball?"

“You suck, Kwan,” you say, as you jump, jump, jump. Your arm stretches out as far as you can, fingertips grazing his forearm each time your feet leave the ground. “What happened to playing a fair game?”

You're surprised that you get the court all to yourselves. Seungkwan said that the courts close for guests around 9 at night, but since it's his aunt's resort, a key can solve all of his problems. The floodlights are still on, illuminating the green and white basketball court you stand on.

“This is fair!” He can’t help but to laugh. “You just can’t reach me because you’re short.” His eyes crinkle at the outer points, still keeping enough focus to maintain the ball in his possession. Damn you, Seungkwan.

Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s all of the mixed signals he’s been giving you but ah, to hell with it. It’s time for you to get on the offense and make a move.

With a deep breath in and out, you wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him with the softest eyes you could muster.

As soon as he feels contact on his body, only a layer of clothing between your fingers and his midriff, his face burns. And you have never seen Seungkwan flustered to a point that the ball falls from his hand immediately and bounces multiple times on the court.

His feet are frozen and his eyes land on you, even as you run after the ball and sink a shot that’s not the cleanest, but still swishes through the net.

Grabbing the ball, you saunter up as cool as you can, and hold the ball on your hip as you stand face-to-face. “Maybe that wasn��t fair, but I was trying at least.”

Your smart comment goes right over his head, as he’s still trying to process what the hell just happened.

"(Y/N)," he can only manage to utter, looking around to see if anyone saw what he just experienced. His eyes are wider than the full moon in the sky and he blinks a few times to shake off his surprise. "Yeah, I guess that would be trying." He puffs his cheeks and purses his lips, not knowing what else to say.

"I think you're cool Seungkwan."

"You do?"

"But I mean, do you do this with all the girls you meet when they come here for vacation?"

You have time to run away if need be, but you find yourself taking one, two, three steps closer to him.

"No," he replies, his voice softer than ever before. "Only you."

#kflixnet #k-labels #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seungkwan fic #seungkwan fluff #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seungkwan seventeen

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unreadpoppy · 3 months

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personal vent under the cut

i love my mom, i really do, but fucking hell, it gets tiring dealing with her. I don't want to be one of those people but my mom is bipolar and it's fucking hard ok, like i know that it's harder for her, obviously, but fuck dude it's hard for me too. And I try and do better for her but god it's fucking tiring when you're the only one trying to put in the work. Mom understands only what she wants to understand, she only believes in what she wants to believe and she doesn't fucking listen. I've already told her that I don't want to talk if I have my earphones on and she keeps insisting and then complains about it.

Mom doesn't know time and place so she'll choose the worst fucking time ever to talk about really delicate matters (like her asking me about my religious beliefs in the fucking car while we were driving back home from the dentist). We tell her that she'd have a better relationship with my brother if she didn't ask him stuff about his personal life IN THE MIDDLE OF LUNCH but fuck that, she does what she wants. I'm boiling some water to cook and my mom asks me to go grab something in the reception of our building and i tell her no and she starts on a rant about how "you raise someone for twenty years and they don't do anything for you" bc GOD FORBID me or my brother say no to our mom bc is this every.fucking.time we say we don't want to do something with/for her.

and what hurts me the most is when mom accuses me (and sometimes my brother) of loving our dad more bc this is something that she asks about since i was a child and is something that distresses me since then, and i know why she says that, it's bc she sees me spending hours talking with dad, i sometimes tell him stuff first and i usually go out with him more. But there's a fucking reason for all of those, and it's that, althought my dad can (and many times will) be the biggest dick in the whole fucking world, HE LISTENS (most of the time). He fucking listens to me rambling, he knows that if I want to go to a certain place to do 1 thing, I just want to do that and nothing more (unlike my mom who tells me we'll do one thing and then starts doing others and dragging me along), dad knows the places that I like to go and that if i don't want to talk, he's not gonna push me to.

And another thing that makes it so difficult to live with my mom is that she doesn't fucking realize when she's being annoying and when we try to be polite about it, she gets angry. For example, my mom has poor hearing so she puts her phone on fucking blast, but i'm sensitive to noise, so sometimes i'll be in the living room, trying to watch the news or something else and my mom will be on social media, watching videos ON THE FUCKING HIGHEST VOLUME EVER and i tell her like hey can you lower it, she makes a face (and this is something that annoys everyone in the house but it's always like this). Or, and that is what i hate even more, is when i'm like on my computer doing something, and mom walks in my room, and lays on my bed and just stays there and if i tell her to leave, she'll complain, but imma be honest, if i'm in my room, it's cause i don't want to freaking talk. If i want to talk to someone, I REACH OUT TO THEM. And the other day it really got on my nerves cause mom was playing pokemon go ( or trying to figure out) so she asks me while i'm playing bg3, and i help her to do stuff and instead of leaving, she stays in my room, with the music of the game on fucking blast, so loud that i can't even hear BG3. And if i tell her to leave, guess what? she'll complain about how ungrateful i am.

Like, there was this day where i was crying bc of some shit my brother did to me, and bc i was so upset, i didn't want to talk about it then. My dad saw me crying, asked if i wanted to talk about it and i said later. My mom saw me crying, she didn't know what i was crying about but started saying some stuff and when i told her that 1) that wasn't what made me upset and 2) i didn't want to talk about it, she starts going on about how she's just trying to give advice and yada yada and i again, i was already upset and i know i could have said it better but fuck i had had a long ass day, so i said fuck her advice and she started screaming while i just wanted to be left the fuck alone. And like, my dad also fucks up in the situation later bc when i tell him (and mom) about what my brother had done, he puts the blame on ME and says i was wrong (up until this day i have received no apology for this whole bullshit, from neither of the men but whatever)

And like i keep getting told that i need to see her side of things but why do i have to do that when she doesn't do the same for me?Why do i have to be the bigger person when i'm literally 20 and she's 56?

i love my mom, i really do, she's my biggest suporter in literally anything and she always has my back, but fuck, sometimes living with her is detrimental to my mental health (and this can go for the rest of the people i live with but this post is about her).

#personal #using my blog as a journal for my feelings #vent

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sallysgrancanwrite · 1 year

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Chapter Twenty-Eight

“What on earth are you doing down here?” Edith asked. “You should be resting.” she said.

“I got hungry. I missed supper because I was sleeping and I never had lunch either. I was famished when I woke up,” she said taking a bite of a large dill pickle. “Do y’all want some. I’m about done and I’m going to clean up then I’m digging into that pecan pie.” She said almost drooling.

“Oh now that sounds good,” said Beth and Bob.

“Come on let’s get a piece,” Bob said.

“Oh no you don’t! Hands off the pies! I made them for the reception tomorrow!” Edith said scolding them.

“You made nothing for us?” Bobs face fell and he plopped down.

“Oh goodness gracious, would I do my family that way? I have extra pecan pie separate from all the others. Go and get it Chloe.”

Soon they were all enjoying a beautiful piece of pecan pie. Thanks to Chloe’s midnight kitchen raid they all got a midnight snack.

The girls helped Edith clean up and Bob went up to bed. As they were washing dishes Chloe told Edith about her concerns about marrying Michael.

“I love him with my whole heart but that stuff Hope told me really got into my head. I’m just nervous I guess. What if I marry him and Hope is right? What do I do if he starts on me?” Chloe asked scared at the thought. Especially after yesterday. He was close to fracturing her arm.

“Honey neither Beth nor I can tell you what to do or what’s right. And I can’t see the future so I don’t know what it holds for your marriage. I do know this, you have a lot of people who love you, but most of all the three of us love you. Now if things go bad really bad you call one of us. We’ll either come get you or me you somewhere. You will not be left alone. But you don’t know that will happen. So enjoy your day tomorrow honey.” Edith said.

“Let’s all get some rest and it will look better in the morning, come on let’s get you back to bed.” Beth said.

When Beth got her to her room, she told her good night but Chloe grabbed her hand.

“You want to come in and talk a bit on the bed. We can have our last slumber party together.” Chloe said.

“Uh, sure,” Beth said. “Let me get my phone and I’ll be right back.” Beth came back and they laid on that big fluffy bed and looked at the glowing stars on the ceiling. When Chloe was young Bob helped her put glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. She said it made her feel like she was really sleeping under the stars, under heaven and was closer to her parents in some way.

“I really wish my mom and we’re going to be here for my big day tomorrow. For my dad to walk me down the aisle. I love Bob and Edith, they just aren’t mom and dad. But they have been the greatest people to have raised me. I love them almost as much as my parents, maybe like grandparents.”

They sat in silence for a while and Chloe brought out their yearbooks. They laughed at how funny they looked and dressed back then. And to think they thought it was cool.

“Beth, do you think my fears are silly?” Chloe asked.

“No. You know how I have always felt about him, especially when he was hitting on you. You have reason to be concerned. I believe every word Hope says. Just be careful and know we are aslways there. I don’t care what time it is, call if you’re in trouble. Now let’s get some beauty sleep. Some of us need it more than others.” She laughed.

It wasn’t long and they were out. Beth was awake first. Bright and early. She quietly got up and went and showered in the other one down the hall. She didn’t want to wake her using her shower. For now Beth had on old jeans and a t shirt. First thing, grab a bite quickly and coffee. She got downstairs and found Bob and Edith already drinking coffee.

“Good morning you two. I thought I had beat everyone up since the sun is barely coming up.” Beth said.

“Oh we always get up this early. The older we get the harder it is to sleep too late.”

“What .do you have planned this morning Bob.” Beth asked

“I have to go set up the tables and such for the reception. Go pay for all of it. Make sure the carriage is at the house at time to pick her and I up.”

“Well,” Edith said, and gave him a kiss. “Off to put flowers on pews then make sure the menu is ok and will be set out at the right time. Bob don’t forget to make sure the alcohol is flowing tonight. I love you . See you in a bit. I left Chloe a note.”

#original fiction #original story #writeblr

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roboromantic · 1 year

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speaking of religious stuff time 2 talk about the wedding

so ok I knew my dad’s fiancee is a member of the United Methodist Church and that he’s joined them. and I think I wrote something before about how painful it was to see my dad just casually dismiss the extreme fundamentalism HE RAISED US IN. like I’m sure he’s been going through his own process of unlearning stuff and figuring out his own religious journey

but also. felicia was kinda The driving force behind our fundamentalist upbringing and after the divorce he more or less backslid and eventually stopped going to church. partly bc they got rid of the preacher and the whole church started going in a direction he wasn’t fond of but my point is that if religion was THAT important to him, he almost certainly could’ve found somewhere else to go long before he met his fiancee

so it feels like a red flag to me that he started getting more religious once he started dating her. it SHOULDN’T, I mean obviously people change to accommodate their loved ones and I highly doubt his wife was like, pressuring him into joining bc she’s infinitely more chill than felicia

but basically all this to say that I knew the wedding was gonna be at their church but it was really surprising to me just how Christian it was? my dad’s been a bit more outwardly Christian but neither he nor his wife have really made a big deal out of it so when their vows genuinely sounded like those memes about having Jesus as a third it was really shocking to me

and I think part of it is definitely due to me being raised CoC, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that people can be devout casual Christians, if that makes sense. I guess it’s almost kinda the opposite of what that post was saying - practicing Christianity WAS very much a cultural thing that permeated every aspect of my life growing up, so the idea that one can be Christian without actually seeming (to me, anyway) to do anything Christian outside of maybe holidays & life events Does Not Compute. It’s something I’m still trying to unlearn.

anyway the stuff by the pastor was a bit uncomfortable but more or less what I was expecting so it didn’t really bother me

(btw I keep referring to her as my dad’s wife bc I mean, technically yeah she’s my step-mom and she’s a very nice woman and I have nothing against her, but she’s not exactly going to be occupying a “motherly” role in my life. also it just feels Weird)

at the reception her family invited us to visit the church some time and asked us if we had a “home church” or st and me (Jewish) and my brothers (pagan and atheist(?)) just kinda looked at each other and were like “not at the moment”

idk how exactly one’s supposed to handle that but I don’t think it’ll come up too often since I doubt I’m going to be interacting with any of her family members besides her mom (whom I’ve met a few times already and has Also not been pushy about religion) and maybe her sister.

as the groom’s kids we had a few guests come up and mingle and among them was a couple from a church we used to go to; my dad’s stayed in touch with them for a while bc the husband’s also into music stuff but it was Mildly Terrifying to realize I haven’t seen these people in over a decade and they could deadname me at any second or make a big deal about my transition. luckily neither of those things happened (that I know of anyway) but. hhhh.

last thing isn’t actually super related to religion but my dad met his wife through this German band they’re both in, so ofc the other members played at the reception in full gear and invited us to do various dances and it really caught me off guard when they were like “okay this time we’re going to Schunklen” (or something to that effect.) At the time it sounded like they said “shuckling” and I was like. huh. obviously Yiddish and German are related and it didn’t take long to realize that they almost certainly come from the same kinda root word that meant st like “swaying” but boy did it throw me for a loop

#religious stuff

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imatechbummerliketomholland · 3 years

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You are my world. you three are my world now - h.h

hello there! I'm back ! Sorry if it tooks so long, i have a lot of work during these holiday. I hope you like this little request. I didn't have time to be proofread (but a big thank you to@petersasteria who is always there to support me!). Remember that my native language is French, so don't be so mean if i made mistakes!

Feel free to like, share, comment and tell me what you think. Send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for my next work!

Word count: 2300 Warning: angst, mention of pregnancy, small mention of blood, mention of placental abruption Pairing : harry holland Request: yes!

ღღღ

You didn't expect to be pregnant with twins at your age. The announcement of your pregnancy had also surprised more than one. Despite her support, Nikki Holland had still given the discourse on the importance of safe sex to her son. But Harry had given a more than mature speech in defense of both of you. He was able to prove to his family and to yours that you were ready and that the decision to continue the pregnancy was not rash.

You were now at the half of your eighth month and nothing could stand in the way of your happiness.

Nothing except maybe this.

Nikki had offered to have lunch with her this afternoon. Despite his work as a photographer, no longer having the company of his four children - since three of them left the family cocoon to live their own life as grown-up adults- weighed heavily on her. You accepted with pleasure. Harry, who was editing his third short film, had left you this morning to go to the edit suite, not without checking that you were okay. So, you joined Nikki at the restaurant. You shine in your long floral maternity dress. In the middle of the meal, you felt a violent contraction.

At almost eight months pregnant, it was no surprise that you could feel twins’ movements. You winced a little at the pain and your mother-in-law put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Are you alright, darling?" she asking, a little bit worried.

"Yeah, yeah. They've just been in great shape for a few days now."

You apologized and went to the bathroom, struggling to cope with the pain of your contractions. When you noticed that your underwear was soaked with blood, your heart rate increased. You suddenly realized that a series of symptoms corresponded to what you had dreaded early in your pregnancy: the nausea that had occurred last night, the violent contractions since this morning and now the blood. Rather alerting signals that suggested a placental abruption. The obstetrician told you that this was a possible risk since you were having a twin pregnancy. You started to cry and panic for several minutes that Nikki ended up knocking on the bathroom door.

"Darling, is everything good in there?" she asked you with her sweet and worried voice.

"Could you come in please" you sobbed.

"Sure, darling. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She stepped carefully into the disabled cabin that you had used for space reasons. Nikki immediately noticed your state of stress. And you just told her everything in strangled sobs. She put a hand behind your back and gave you a very serious look.

"We have to go to the ER. We're going right away."

"I want Harry"

"Don't worry, I'll call him on the way"

And you haven't wasted a minute. Nikki simply left her phone number and table number at the counter before you got into your car. Dom will retrieve Nikki one's later. Holland family been known from the restaurant, the staff were comprehensive about your leaving without paid the bill. When you arrived at the hospital, the nurses greeted you directly and wasted no time either. You were taken to the operating room without being able to get your boyfriend's support.

☙♥❧

Harry arrived within fifteen minutes of receiving the call from his mother. No doubt he would receive a speeding penalty ticket later. He looked like a madman, mortified by worry. He was a bundle of nerves and sarcasm. Her mother was standing by the reception desk, waiting for her. She looked anxious. Tom was there too, trying to contact their father on his phone. When Dom finally picked up, the oldest Holland brother announced the urgency. Harry was shaking with worry.

"What happened mom?"

"I don't really know, baby. We were at the restaurant and the babies kicked. She went to the bathroom and when she didn't come back, I went after her. That's where she asked me to come into the bathroom and you know the rest. I called you straight after that. " Nikki explained, trying to get the stress out of her.

"Oh my god… where is she now?"

"The medical staff took her for surgery. I had to wait here. I couldn't go with her, baby. I’m so sorry."

"Ok ... Ok, I guess I have to wait here. Hope she's okay. God, please make her be alright."

They all made their way to the operating theater hallway for the public to wait for more information. Tom was still on the phone with his father, explaining that it would be better if he stayed at home with Paddy so as not to overcrowd the waiting room. He promised his father that they would all give news as soon as possible. A nurse in a surgical gown entered ten minutes later.

“Who's the father of miss y/l/n's babies?”

“I am. Harry Holland, I’m the father!” he almost screamed and cried at the same time.

“Come with me”

Nikki stood up cautiously and walked over to the nurse. Harry was ready to follow the nurse without giving any further information to his family.

"Excuse me. Can you give us more information on her condition?" Nikki asked

"Sure. We had an emergency caesarean. The babies are fine but there seem to be some complications with the mother. The surgeon is taking care of her."

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry asked hastily.

"She's losing a lot of blood but we're doing our best. Now please follow me." She said to curly one.

☙♥❧

Harry followed her to the nursery. His heart was pounding in mixed emotions. He was so impatient to meet his babies but at the same time he was worried about you. What if you don't survive from the complications? What was to become of him? Would he be able to live without you? Would he be a good father?

His last question vanished when he saw his two little babies in the incubator. Your twins had arrived about fifteen, almost a month earlier than expected, it was normal that they were in an incubator. Harry was going to have to make sure they put on weight. After filling out a few papers, one of the nurses offered to do some skin-to-skin contact with the twins so that they could get to know the three of them. Harry could not but be impatient with this and once prepared he settled into a seat. He was overcome with emotion, understanding how his parents had felt when Sam and him were born. He completely forgets the time, spending several minutes with his sons, one after the other. Harry knew he would place all his love in the two little beings he had taken turns holding in his arms. He was ready to lift mountains, cross the tides. Part of his mind was on you and he truly hoped he could go through life's trials with you. May your family experience all the times they deserve.

The nurse who had brought him to the nursery go up to him with a half-smile. She was sorry to disturb him during this privileged father-son moment.

"Your ... hm ... miss (y/l/n) is in the recovery room. You can go see her now"

Harry's heart burst with relief. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding back. The very new father nodded before placing his son in the nurse's arms so that she could put him back in the incubator. He decided to go find his family who had been waiting too long now. When he entered the waiting room, his mother and brother were still seated. Tom had his elbows on his knees, the phone in his hand. He seemed to be talking to someone. When the actor noticed his brother's presence, he spoke to him.

"Hey mate, Sam's here. Wanna talk to him? What's up? Does y/n's alright? And the twins?"

"Too much question. Give me Sam first!"

But the result was exactly the same. Sam asked the same questions as Tom and Harry winced as he tried to answer consensually.

"Hello to you too, brother. The twins are fine. I swear to God Sam, they look like a mini version of us. Two sons by the way ... y/n is fine, she's in the recovery room, I'm going see her right after that. I wanted to talk to mom and Tom first. "

"Glad to know I'm the last to know." Sam informed sarcastically.

"Hey, I was going to call you but I had to, you know ... go meet my sons. Father's job, it seems."

Sam chuckled behind his phone screen as Harry smirked in a mischievous and petty manner. He ended the call with his twin and turned to his mother and Tom. Nikki made her understand that she had heard, she seemed relieved that you were okay.

"Hey, before I go see y/n ... you want to see your grandsons ... and you, your nephew and godson, asshole."

"Harry, language" said Nikki.

"Of course I want to see my godson, stupid"

"Tom!"

The two brothers smile at each other. Just because one became a father and the other was a movie star, didn't mean they were going to change their ways. It was also their way, both of them, to decompress events. Nikki sighed in annoyance but kept quiet, too happy to meet, even only through a window, her first grandchildren. After a brief walk in front of the nursery, Harry announced that he was going to find you, leaving his family to admire your twins. They seemed so impatient to meet them in person but knew they were going to have to wait while you woke up.

☙♥❧

Harry entered the recovery room and walked over to your bed. You seemed to have already woken up from your artificial sleep. He grabbed your hand to give you the support you needed. A feeling of emptiness was felt in you, your gaze landed on your stomach, flatter than you had seen in recent months. Your eyes widened in panic but the reassuring pressure of Harry's hand drew your attention to him.

"They are fine, my love. They are fine. They are in an incubator in the nursery."

You burst into tears. The emotions being so strong.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I'm sorry ..."

“Hey… hey… you don't have to. You're okay… the twins are okay. And I still love you, I love you more than ever."

"Have you seen them?"

"Yes ... ugly like their father" he joked

You chuckled with a few more tears in your voice. You knew he didn't mean it, but humor was Harry's best way to decompress, and it worked on you too.

"My family is here. You scared the hell out of them. I think Sam was about to order a flight to kick your ass."

You chuckled again. It was so impressive to see the love that reigned in this family. You could never have asked for a better way to build your own family. Harry leaned over to kiss you.

"I love you, y/n. You are my world. you three are my world now"

"I love you more, Harry."

You stayed a few more days before you could get out of the hospital. You had decided to introduce the twins after their own discharge from the hospital. That's why, after almost a month of going back and forth to the nursery, you could finally bring your twins home. So you organized a little visit to Harry's parents.

☙♥❧

The sun was shining on London and you squeezed the doorknob of one of the maxi-cozy, Harry carrying your second son as you opened the door to the Holland family home. You were amazed at the ease with which Harry assumed his role as father. He was doing so well that you fell in love with him again.

"Is there anyone here?" He asked

"We're all in the garden, buddy!" Tom said

"You are obviously in the kitchen, dummy"

"For god's sake, Harry. Come into this fucking garden and let us see the twins!"

You let out a frank laugh as you mentally noted that you were going to have to have a conversation with Harry and his brothers about the vocabulary they were using.

You are therefore entering the garden. You noticed right away that Sam had come all the way from Scotland. Harry must have organized this with him too. You smiled, Nikki rushed over to help you with the change bags and you thanked him.

"So where is my godson?" Tom asked in the same way he did at the FFH premiere when he was looking for Jake Gyllenhal.

"Where's mine?" Sam asked too.

You approached Sam, putting the maxycosy on the table to unbuckle the seat belt and take your son in your arms. Harry was doing the same with your second baby.

"I'm happy to introduce you y/s/n"

"And there's y/s/n(2)." Harry added, so proud.

Everyone raved about the twins as you wipe away a tear, happy and proud. You were so moved by the love that reigned. Harry came to kiss you on the forehead, you closed your eyes, appeased by his gesture. The world could only turn better in his company.

"It's family portrait time!" Nikki said, her camera in her hands. "Tom, please get closer to your brother. Sam, stand next to y / n"

You all followed Nikki's instructions, who couldn't be more than happy to capture this important moment, bringing her work and family life together. You all smiled as you and Harry were in the center of the photo, carrying your twins in your arms. And at that moment, you were sure that your life could not be more beautiful than at this moment.

#harry holland #harry holland blurb #harry holland x reader #harry holland request #harry holland x y/n #holland family x reader

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hockeyshitandstuff · 3 years

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

#Matthew Tkachuk #hockey imagines #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk oneshot #matt tkachuk #matty tkachuk #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl one shot #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #brady tkachuk #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #Hockey Players #hockey

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Text

Disarming (Santi x fem!reader)

Summary: you and Santi - good friends- are Best Man and Maid of Honour at Frankie’s wedding, and guess what? There’s only one bed!

What is this? This is 5/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. The prompt is “We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend”, requested by @woakiees. Another double trope extravaganza! Hadley, I’m so pleased you suggested Santi for this one, as he immediately came to mind when I was writing this prompt :D Thank you so much for requesting! <3

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Apparently I get carried away EVERY time I write Santi. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! :-/

Word count: 7.5k. I’M SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

Rating: 18+ ONLY (minors out, please, do not read or interact)

Warnings: it gets angsty in the middle. Reader has nightmare- comfort offered. Mentions of reader being “hurt” in the past but vague and unspecified. They have a fight. One or two alcohol mentions- no actual consumption. Food mention. Swearing. Steam leading into smut but not explicit- mentions of masturbation, erections, making-out, one brief allusion to choking kink. Let me know if I missed anything.

Tagging: @isvvc-pvscvl @casifer-is-king (loads of the tags aren’t working :-/)

GIF: @nathan-bateman

From the first moment you met Santi, you had simply fallen into step with him. It was effortless, and so, as soon as you found yourself by his side, you stayed there. What’s more, that’s exactly where he wanted you to be.

Despite the man’s hard, no-nonsense edge -which you also appreciated- he was warm and charming. It was easy to connect with him, in a way it hadn’t often been for you. For him too - or so the boys told you - the way you surpassed his defences was a rare thing. It shouldn’t have worked, perhaps. Usually, he was slow to trust and you were quick to love, but on this occasion none of that seemed to apply, the two of you tumbling squarely into a fast-friendship; one deeper and more intense, perhaps, than its duration might suggest. Still, despite the boys’ inferences that you would quickly become an item, and Santi’s continual attempts to blur the lines between this and… something more, “friends” is what you have remained.

You had felt it immediately with him. Something different. You simply... flowed. You fit. It was immediately evident, even on that first night, in the way you orbited around one another, setting up an impromptu beer pong of all things. You moved together with a fluidity and a precision that seems almost tactical- as though you too had run countless manoeuvres in the field with him. You could read him and understand him as though you had drilled his habits and patterns and idiosyncrasies over and over; learning him. However, he was never that much effort - the two of you came naturally to each other, little learning required. You knew each other with your gut.

At that fateful party, when you each escaped to the back porch steps for some air at a serendipitous moment, the conversation had immediately flowed, and not only as a result of his natural, disarming charm. The silence even came easily rightaway – a comfortable thing, the space between you stuffed with contentment, rather than the feeling of a gaping vacuum, needlessly filled. It turned out his best friend was dating yours (the pair to be wed this very weekend) but that almost seemed like the cherry on top, rather than the thing bringing you to each other.

Safe to say, what was true then is true now. You get on so well. You find him fun and easy and generous and you love the man dearly.

…Most of the time.

Those other times, though? Santiago “Pope” Garcia can be a pain in your ass. But that’s another reason you love him, you guess. Keeps things interesting.

“Please don’t kill me,” Santi says sheepishly, and it’s obvious to you he’s laying on the charm - actively trying to be as disarming as possible as he saunters over from the reception desk. For a moment, despite all his training, he looks as though he believes you could pull it off, too.

Your annoyance is already prepped; locked and loaded, as he pads squarely towards the banquette where you are sat - amidst a sea of luggage. You’ve been observing his attempts to charm the desk clerk with interest (his efforts, you surmise, at least partially effectual), and judging from the slight level of desperation in his efforts, you can already tell he fucked up somehow.

“What did you do?” you say impatiently, even as a smile twitches at the corner of your lips.

“I booked all the rooms we needed, for all of the wedding guests, right? 13 rooms here, and all 10 at the hotel across town. 4 more in guesthouses,” he recaps. “Got Frankie and Mila a great deal too, remember?”

You remember. And yet, you fold your arms across your chest, looking up at him incredulously. Okay then. Rolling with your attitude, the man takes a different tack. He sits next to you. Smiles. Leans in. Pats your thigh. He’s trying to disarm you too, you realise. It’s going to take more than that - you’re not some flimsy desk clerk who will form a puddle and bat your eyes at the first sign of his charm.

“Well, funny story. I may have forgotten to book our rooms,” he blurts.

Oh? Oh, great. Yeah. This is a grand fuck-up. The whole damn town is booked-out. It’s a small town. No longer amused, your nostrils flare in annoyance as you tug in a slow breath, schooling your tone just a little before you speak. “You what?” Okay, you didn’t manage to school it all that much.

“Look, I already sort of fixed it,” he smooths. That explains the flirting with the clerk. Although, you think, glancing back at her. She’s pretty. That partially explains the flirting with the clerk, then, you mentally correct. “There’s just one, teeny-tiny issue.”

You raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes. Well?

“We’re gonna have to share a room.”

You blink at him a few times, in surprise. Well, it’s not ideal. For a number of reasons. But you can think of worse things, truth be told. And he’s not wrong. It is a solution. Still, on his reveal, a succession of emotions and micro-assessments are bounced back and forth between your eyes and his, until you land on resigned annoyance, exhaling a long sigh. That is, until Frankie appears in the lobby, swanning in like he’s walking on air. He probably is, given that he’s getting married this weekend. His face splits with a smile so wide you reckon it should be painful to maintain, and you stand to greet him as he heads over.

You’re glad he’s happy. It means that you and Santi, as Maid of Honour and Best man, respectively, are doing a fantastic job of deflecting all of the stress away from the happy couple. Indeed, that assessment certainly feels true – you do feel stressed. Still, the two of you immediately paint your faces with masking smiles; though, in fairness, it’s hard not to smile while looking at Frankie – his obvious joy is infectious.

Frankie wraps you both in a hug, then rubs his palms together like an excited kid. “I don’t have much time. Just gonna say a quick hello to my parents. Apparently, my mom’s already started crying? Can you two sort some extra tissues for the ceremony or something? Oh, and is everything okay with the rooms?”

“With this guy? Are you kidding?”, you say before you think, throwing your thumb towards Santi. Immediately, his eyes submit a powerful plea to you to keep schtum- it is written all over his face that he doesn’t want to let Frankie down. Not even in the smallest of ways.

Frankie would find his little error funny, probably. But he can find it funny after the ceremony. “Everything is A-OK! This guy? He has every single detail taken care of.”

Frankie grins, his eyes narrowing proudly at Santi as he slaps him on the back, laying profuse thanks on the two of you; then, he floats away again, as if on a cloud. Santi’s brown eyes are big with gratitude when you look at him again, and you can’t help but weaken. You’ll admit, it’s really not that bad of a fuck-up. Besides, you’re tired. Between the drive out here, the wedding rehearsal, and a never-ending list of errands, the day has been long. You just want to get to the room, and maybe even clock a snooze before the rehearsal dinner tonight.

“Fine,” you agree, albeit through gritted teeth. “We can share a damn room.”

Santi looks visibly relieved, and squeezes your shoulder in thanks. You’d even been nice enough not to bite his head off. “Yeah. We can share a room, right? It’s only for a weekend.” Suddenly, he doesn’t sound quite as certain.

“Sure. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?” you smile nervously.

He returns your smile and swivels, heading back towards the desk.

“Oh, wait!” you call after him. “Is it a double or a twin?” you ask in horror. Sharing a room is one thing, but sharing a bed?

He turns, looking over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter!”, he winks. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna have to take it.”

Oh. Oh dear.

You’re inclined to agree -you don’t have many options- but when you catch yourself stealing a glance at the man’s shapely butt as he walks back to the desk, you begin to chew your bottom-lip nervously.

Right. Ha.

What could possibly go wrong?

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

It turns out, sharing a room with Santi is resoundingly not bad at all. In fact, at first, it’s as easy as everything else is with him - even between your hurried preparations for the evening, unpacking, shuttling items to the relevant members of the wedding party, and calling down to reception several times to check the logistics for the rehearsal dinner. Even getting dressed, you find an easy flow as you each flit in and out of the bathroom, dancing around each other with ease and only a hint of friendly bickering.

Santi’s respectful too- always knocking and announcing himself before entering a space, and averting his gaze when he needs to, given that you’re rushing around and undressing. You even manage to ignore the fact there’s only one bed for the longest time, parking that specific panic for later. Even then, he has already made reception send up extra pillows and blankets, forming a barricade in the middle of the bed so you two can comfortably separate.

Thankfully, you are so busy that the idea of sharing a bed with Santi doesn’t even cross your mind until you’re finally ready, dressed in your finery. When you step out of the bathroom, Santi -sat on the edge of said bed- stands up, thrusting his hands into his suit trousers as he takes the sight of you in, pulling the material taut -in a rather pleasing way- across his hips and thighs. He ends up slightly slack-jawed for a moment as his eyes trail over you, brewing with a gentle, self-conscious heat. “Fuck,” he says softly, his voice gruff. “You look…” a little gulp trails down his throat as you give him a little twirl. “…hot”, he says, his eyebrow ticking up on the last beat.

“Wait until you see my bridesmaid dress,” you smile, and he returns it easily, those gorgeous creases appearing around his eyes.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. You can’t help but wonder, vaguely, what it would be like to push him down on to the mattress. Maybe straddle him. Fuck, you should have known this would be a bad idea. A heat rising in your face at that thought of that, you distract yourself by lifting his suit jacket from the back of the chair, holding it out for him as he slips it on to his shoulders, and feeling the luxurious texture of it beneath your fingers.

It’s a grey suit, tailored, and it hugs him in all the right places. The cool colour is perfect against his warm-toned brown skin, and brings out the salt in his salt-and-pepper curls, and in the rough rasp of grey flecked through his stubble.

You try desperately not to notice how good he looks, but this may be your greatest challenge yet.

“Come on,” you encourage, nodding towards the door. “We better head down.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, half-heartedly. The way his eyes are subtly roving over you, though, he looks like he has something entirely different in mind for dinner.

“You’re probably going to spend all night being chased by the single bridesmaids,” you add casually as you collect your purse, and apply a final dab of lipstick in front of the mirror. You’ve already clocked a few members of the wedding party eyeing him up, and you don’t exactly blame them for being thirsty. Besides, Santi is a huge flirt; so perhaps he’ll be the one doing the chasing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he ended the night with his tongue thrust deep in someone’s throat, which -you assume- is typical Santi fashion.

“Isn’t it traditional, anyway,” he smirks cheekily, applying a splash of cologne, “for the Best Man to hook-up with one of the bridesmaids?”

Lord, does he have to smell so… edible.

“Got news for you, man. You fucked up. You can’t exactly bring a girl back to your room now, can you?!” you tease, nodding back towards your shared bed, a wall of pillows already arranged down the middle. You mean it to come out in good-humour, but you can’t scrub the hint of jealousy from your tone entirely.

You feel so silly for being jealous of whomever he may hook-up with. After all, Santi is always the one testing the boundaries of friendship with you. It’s not like he’s ever made a secret of the fact he’s attracted to you- and you are the one here will a firm line in the sand. A line you simply won’t cross with him. Can’t cross. You want to - of course you do, but after being hurt in the past, you have simply built-up far too many defences; or, more accurately, just the right amount of defences, you think, to protect you. So, no matter how disarming the man is, you simply have to keep your guard up; because if he breached your walls, you know everything else would come tumbling so easily down.

You had fallen so easily into friendship with him, and you are certain that you would fall just as recklessly in love with him.

You’re not ready for that.

You can’t take being hurt again. Besides; Santi? He’s an incredible friend. He’s tenaciously loyal and dedicated to his squad. But when it comes to love, and sex, you doubt whether serious is even his thing - and you’re too afraid to ask.

“You ready to do this?” he asks, with a wink.

“Yep,” you nod. “Let’s roll,” and with that, you turn, heading for the hallway.

“Princesa- that dress really highlights your ass,” he praises as he tags along behind you.

“Thank you, it’s true,” you smile devilishly, already beginning to let your guard down, just a little. He’s simply so disarming. “Speaking of, Garcia – did you get your trousers a size too small on purpose?”

“Oh, you noticed?” he retorts, smugly, guiding you through the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Okay. Sometimes you flirt back. After all – look at him.

Especially in that damn suit.

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

The rehearsal dinner goes swell. Frankie and Mila are a picture-perfect, loved-up couple, and they grin their way through the evening as if they slept with coat hangers in their mouths. The speeches are well-received, including Will’s, thus setting a high bar for you and Santi tomorrow. (You may be biased, but Santi’s is ten times funnier, and it’s going to kill, in your opinion.) There are no dramas through the evening- logistical or familial, and thanks to you and Santi overseeing everything with a military precision, it looks as though -so far- it is shaping up to be the perfect wedding weekend.

Finally, once your duties are over for the night, you are able to let your hair down a little, so to speak, and enjoy the food and company on offer. Still, with a big day ahead tomorrow, things wind down relatively early, and -having lost track of Santi at some point- you find yourself back at the shared room a little while before him. You usually burn out more quickly than he does in social situations, but even taking that into consideration, you begin to fret about where he has gotten to. With the way he was flirting his way through the party, though, it doesn’t take a genius to guess what (or who) might be keeping him up.

You try to sleep but you can’t, your mind going to the worst places, so, by the time Santi does return -softly cracking the door, and padding in with his shoes in his hands so as not to wake you- you have stewed in your own thoughts long enough to have become a little cranky. A little… green-eyed.

“Hey,” he greets in surprise when he enters, immediately noticing the soft lamp glow, and seeing you still sitting up in the bed, mindlessly watching the flicker of the tv on mute.

“Hey,” you return, your voice noticeably strained. “Have a fun time?” You find yourself wishing you weren’t sharing a room, then you wouldn’t have to know what he got up to.

“Yeah,” he replies softly, slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair. “Did you? How come you’re still up? Thought for sure you’d be wiped out by now.”

So, he did think of you, then?

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply neutrally, fixing your eyes dead ahead as he begins to slip out of his trousers and shirt too, until he’s dressed in only his tight black boxers. Next, he takes off his watch and sets it at the bedside, and you notice that he smells of perfume. A cloying, floral scent that makes you feel a little sick.

“Just gonna have a quick shower and then I’ll slip in with you, okay?” he says, his voice slow and deep and muted, matching the soft light.

You still don’t look at him. You can’t.

“Do what you want. You usually do,” you bite, the words tasting bitter as soon as they have left your lips, and tears of regret pooling as your anger dissolves.

You don’t blame him if he was with someone – you really don’t. You’re simply angry at yourself; because you wish you could be that person, and you can’t for the life of you seem to find a way.

“Okay. What was that for?” he bristles, reacting defensively, turning towards you. And perhaps it’s because it’s late and he’s tired, or because certain demons feel safer coming out under the cover of darkness, but he doesn’t stop there. Especially when all he gets from you is a stony, pointed silence. “You know what? Actually, no. You don’t get to do this”, he hisses, and it is the first time you’ve ever heard him direct any genuine anger at you.

It doesn’t half sting.

“Do what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“You don’t get to be mad when I give my attention to someone who actually wants it,” his voice is hushed, but his words rattle through you as if he had yelled them. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Guess what, I’m not yours.”

“That’s not fair”, you snap back, and then things are quickly escalating.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, rasping a hand over his stubble in distress. “I mean, come on. Shit. You know that I want more but I…” he exhales a disgruntled laugh. “You shoot me down, which is your prerogative, honestly, but you can’t have it both ways. You can’t knock me back all the time and then be pissed off when I look elsewhere.”

You meet his face, the planes of it shadowed and angled harshly with anger, suddenly so unfamiliar to you, and it causes your eyes to bloom with tears. You two look the opposite of Frankie and Mila; of a picture-perfect couple. But you’re not even a couple at all, are you?

You see him try. To blunt the emotion which is bubbling up. To soften. But he has uncorked something he now can’t put back in. “Fuck, I just wish that….” he pinches his lips together and shakes his head, planting his hands on his hips and looking at the floor. “If you don’t want me, just put me out of my fucking misery. Just say it. Just fucking tell me.”

Your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the thought you make him miserable. At the way his voice breaks. At the way he thinks you don’t want him. Maybe you were wrong, thinking that you could be friends at all. Thinking that could be enough for him.

Your lower lip trembles, and your fingers clutch the edge of the blanket. “I… I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Santi.”

You can’t because it isn’t true. It could not be further from the truth, in fact.

He puffs out air, an exasperated sound, his hand raising up to tangle in his grizzled curls. Raising his voice a little more. “Let me guess. You can’t tell me the other thing either?”

“I.. I..” You try, but no words will come. You simply shake your head, swallowing a sob, your eyes almost brimming over.

He nods. He nods, his mouth slanted down. “Great. Got it,” he huffs.

You hate this. You hate how much you’re hurting him.

“Santi,” you breathe weakly, but it is too weak to blunt the force of his emotion. To halt his trajectory, and so, resigned, he turns towards the bathroom, grabbing-up a fresh white towel from the counter. Before he closes the door, he turns to you once more, now speaking softly, his eyes as sad as yours. “You know,” he says, his index finger sawing back-and-forth over the stubble at his chin. “For the record, I wasn’t with anyone else. I can’t even fucking think about anyone else but you. I was late back to the room because I couldn’t face it.” His voice becomes small and pained. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to just curl up next to you and act like I don’t care.” His eyebrow ticks up, and he adds, with a final flourish. “Guess I should have taken a lesson from you.”

Oh, how it stings, pain flowering in your chest like a bruise, but you hold yourself together until he’s out of sight. Then, when he’s gone, you immediately cave in on yourself, falling on to your side and screwing your eyes shut, clamping your hand over your mouth so that he can’t hear you crying as wet tears spill onto your pillow.

When he comes back into the room, after a long shower, you simply screw your eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. You hear him sigh heavily, and mumble something to himself under his breath, before dragging a few pillows and a spare blanket down on to the floor.

A few more silent tears roll over the bridge of your nose.

You guess you wouldn’t be sharing a bed with him after all.

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

You wake panicked in the night, sitting bolt upright in the bed. A cold wash of sweat over your skin chills you, even though you feel like you’re burning-up.

Immediately, you reach for him, for Santi, calling his name even as your fear strangles the sound in your throat. Your heart is thudding, and your breaths are sawing in and out of you, but your grasping hands find nothing to your side but pillows and blanket.

Unfortunately, you are used to this occurrence, and you quickly realise it was “only” a nightmare. Still, the feelings and images it conjured linger in your body, and around you in the shifting, seemingly fluid shadows of the room.

With a release of tension, you whimper, leaning forward and cradling your head in your trembling hands, and you try to ground yourself. To steady your breath and your heartbeat, like you’ve practiced. As you do so, the shadows to your left shift and change, and, even in the pitch-black you can feel him, a safe and warm presence, instantly travelling to your side, his weight dipping the mattress. His soothing, sandy voice filtering through the shadows and cutting back the tendrils of your nightmare like a Disney prince hacking through cursed vines.

You vaguely remember that he’s mad at you - but you can’t help it. Can’t help asking. “Hold me?” you plead, desperately afraid that he won’t.

Still, without questions or hesitation, you feel the wall of remaining pillows coming down, the defences around you quite literally being dismantled – a figurative wall between you shifting away along with it. He shushes you, and you focus on his voice, until he is close enough that the scent of him wraps around you, before his arms follow closely after.

You reach for him in return. You reach for him in every way possible.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he soothes. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you,” and there is pain in his voice on your behalf, as if he tries to bear the burden of it for you.

“Closer,” you plead, and before you know it, he is shifting you on to your side, slotting his sturdy yet soft body around you, not caring that you feel clammy and hot against his bare skin. He simply loops his arms and draws your back, closer to his chest, becoming your big spoon.

He calms you, hands enveloping yours and bundling them against your chest, his nose nuzzling into your hair, and his deep steady breaths slowing your breathing as you let his calm and his rhythms overcome you. He holds you, until the feelings pass, not caring how long it takes – and with any anger from before apparently forgotten.

This pain is all too familiar to him, you know. It something that Santi understands. It is your own and it is not the same as his, true, but you know it is familiar enough that he will feel the ache of it echoing in his own chest. You know that he is accustomed enough to bearing his own pain, that when yours is too heavy to carry, he will help you hold it for a while. And so, he holds you, while you are a tender thing, bruised and afraid, and he keeps you safe; with all your walls down, all of your defences collapsed, he becomes your fortress.

You never thought that letting yourself be so vulnerable could allow you to feel quite as safe as this.

As you lie together, Santi continues to usher soft reassurances into your ear, his words like charms and incantations to ward off the ghosts which haunt you. And, after a series of slow, stretched moments, you become more settled, and Santi feels you relax against him.

After a few moments more, he eventually whispers a small question into your hair. In the dark, the question feels safe to come out, perhaps.

“Do you always call for me when you…?” he trails off, thinking better of it. “I’m sorry- forget it, you don’t have to answer that.”

You don’t. You know you don’t. You don’t even truthfully know the answer. It’s likely that you do call for him, though how would you know, when you’re usually alone? But, there is something else you can tell him, while it is safe to come out in the dark. Something you want to tell him, before you build your walls all the way back up.

“Santi,” you begin, timidly, and his fingers skim softly up and down your arms, encouraging you to go on. “I-I’ve been hurt before. And, I want to be with you. I want to let you in but… I’m. I’m not ready. I’m trying so hard but I… I can’t.”

There is a long beat, and you realise he has held in a breath only when he releases it all at once, fanning hot across the back of your neck.

You are afraid. Afraid of what he might say, in response – what he might feel, but you think, maybe, it might be something like relief? And, Santi squeezes you, just a little tighter. A little closer. “Don’t worry about that now, okay?” he soothes, his voice feather soft. “Just… know one thing, okay, Princesa? Whenever you are ready? I’m waiting.”

This time your heart fills with a different emotion, all the spaces in it flooded with contentment, Santi’s words followed by a perfect, happy silence.

A soft smile blooms on your face.

It was not a confession of waiting impatiently, you understand, but an invitation to take your time to arrive at him. He’s not trying to bring down your defences at all, is he? He’s waiting for you to open the door, and invite him in. He’s waiting until you are ready. He simply needed to know that you are on your way, even if your footsteps are getting you there slowly.

For now, though, the thought of it is too much. More than you’re ready for.

So, you simply let him hold you.

To disarm you further.

To walk yourself a little closer toward where you want to be. With him; by his side.

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

In the morning, you wake up tangled around each other, Santi’s arm wrapped securely around your back and your head settled on his chest. He is still snoring lightly – cutely - when you awake, and so, as the night prior comes flooding back to you, you hastily try to extricate yourself from him; even if his bare skin feels so good against yours that you never want to move. You’re apparently not so subtle- or he’s a helluva light-sleeper – as, just when you pull away, Santi wakes up, quickly rushing to prove his innocence.

“You had a nightmare,” he croaks, still trying to peel his eyes open. “You asked me to- “.

“-I know. I remember,” you reassure, sitting up in bed, the blankets tugged to your chest. Santi shuffles, opting to assume the same position on his own side, mirroring you, rubbing his eyes.

You’re still not sure whether to apologise to him or thank him. Or maybe even to wait for an apology from him? Christ. Maybe all of those things or none of them, who even knows? You mentally spin a wheel and land on a casual “Uh. Thank you, for…. You know.”

“Anytime,” he says, turning his head to the side and looking at you earnestly. As if your bickering -your jealousy and his outburst- is all but forgotten. What’s more, you know that he means it.

Admiringly, your eyes wander over him, enjoying a side of him you’ve never quite seen before. Apparently, he’s even more handsome in the morning, with an even thicker, darkened brush of stubble, his grizzled curls dishevelled, and his swooping eyelids still heavy from sleep. Combined, it gives him a sultry, bedroom look. Feeling an involuntary rush of heat in the pit of you, your gaze drops to his corded neck, where, given the special occasion, he has substituted his dog tags for a silver chain, drawing your gaze down over his smooth, brown chest.

Your skin now cooling in the conditioned air of the room, you long for his body heat again, recalling how it felt to be held by him and wishing you had lingered a little longer while you could. Even with your interrupted sleep last night, you have somehow woken feeling refreshed, as though you had slept unreasonably deeply in his arms, reaching a whole new level of contentment - as though you just fit together, perhaps. As though it comes naturally for you to be held by him, and for him to hold you.

There is a silence and it isn’t awkward exactly; more… pregnant, with possibilities. Possibilities you see brewing with a gentle heat in his eyes. So, tearing yourself abruptly away from that line of thought, you lift your phone up from the nightstand, and note that there isn’t long before your alarms sound anyway.

Operation Wedding Day is go.

That should be enough of a distraction for you, shouldn’t it?

“You ready for this, Best Man?” you ask him, with a gentle quirk of your lips.

“Sure. Are you ready, Maid of Honour?”

Ready. Are you ready?

Thoughts of last night swirl in your head.

Well – as Santi flashes you a tentative, disarming smile, with hooded eyes, you certainly feel like you’re getting there. Like soon you could be ready.

“Sure. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Atta girl,” he encourages, folding his arms behind his head as you jump out of bed.

You suddenly don’t care that you’re in nothing but your underwear, as you stretch out your body and track towards the bathroom. “I’ll shower first?”

“We’re sharing a bed,” he teases. “Sure you don’t want to share a shower too?”

You scoff, flashing a mischievous smile right back at him. You’ve always had a soft spot for his flirting, but you feel like -after all that transpired last night- you truly see if for what it is now. You realise why it has never felt like he’s pressuring you - not once. He’s simply reminding you, that as soon as you call for him, he’ll be there. That he’s waiting, when you’re ready.

Reminding you, that as soon as your walls drop, he’ll be your fortress.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get quite that lucky this morning, Garcia.”

You do linger in the doorway, just a little longer than necessary though, so that he can get a better look at you. He’d never look without permission – he proved that yesterday, when you were in various states of disarray- but this time, sensing your invitation, his eyes graze over you slowly, keenly. So, when he strategically moves his hands from behind his head to hide the tenting covers, you don’t mind at all.

You smile devilishly as you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You’re not sure if he will… take care of himself out in the room – how could you know? But, feeling inspired, you certainly do so in the shower, and it’s a pretty great wake-up call before you face the wedding day.

Maybe sharing a room isn’t so bad. Maybe you could even get used to it.

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

Frankie and Mila get hitched without a hitch.

Santi goes to the ends of the earth to make sure that Frankie has the best day possible- and at some points, he goes even further than that. His speech was moving and flawless, and pretty fucking funny; even if you are a little (or a lot) biased. Not a dry eye in the house, just as you predicted.

The man adores Frankie with his whole heart, and you could barely hold back the glow of admiration as you listened to him, feeling like it might burst from your chest like a beam of gold sunlight. You felt it especially strongly every time his eyes met yours during the course of the speech, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself stupid each time he did so. And, of course, you were overjoyed to see your best friend have the day of her dreams, with the man of her dreams. If you do say so yourself, you think your speech was pretty killer too.

Suffice to say, you ate until your belly was full, loved until your heart hurt, laughed until your sides ached, and danced until your feet ached.

Tonight, unlike last night, you and Santi retire to your shared room at the same time, your arm linked into his, and your shoes carried in your hand to spare your sore feet – there’s a reason you never normally wear shoes like this. Without your heels though, you keep tripping over the hem of your dress almost every few paces, causing you to giggle and Santi to steady you with a warm, rich chuckle, sometimes throwing you an extra hand to assist you.

You look over at him, furtively, as he recounts some of the more choice moments from the day, immensely enjoying the simple pleasure of hearing him talk and smile and laugh. Seeing him happy. Of course, enjoying how he looks too, you have to admit - even more handsome than he did yesterday (somehow) in midnight blue dress pants, and a white, crisp shirt, now tieless. He’s only grown sexier as the evening drew on too, now with a wide open-collar and rolled up sleeves to accommodate all of the dancing; or, at least, as much dancing as his knees could handle, until he’d simply opted to sit to the side and watch you boogie, his eyes apparently transfixed on you and only you - the advances of the other bridesmaids be damned.

There is something that hits different about the way he looked at you today. His admiration shining deeper than usual. Less like a casual lust, and more like something… serious. You’re not sure why you doubted it before, exactly. Why you have been so inordinately afraid that he might hurt you. You broadly figured him for a smash and dash type of man, which is fine, but you have every reason to believe that he wants more with you.

After all, Santi can be deeply and tenaciously loyal. He has dedicated himself to things deeply and unwaveringly several times over in his life. To his country, to his missions, to his morals, to his squad. And there’s something about the way he looked at you today, you think, that suggests he might dedicate himself to you with the same tenacity. Something far deeper than appreciating how you look in this bridesmaid dress (and oh boy do you look hot). It’s more like the way he looks at Frankie. A little different to that, obviously. But you’re realising he looks at you like he’d never let you down. Not even in the smallest of ways. Like he’d rather go to the ends of the earth -or beyond- than do that.

At least… you think so.

You are sure about one thing though. The way he looks at you? It’s thoroughly disarming.

And so, you arrive at your shared room, utterly wiped out from the day (and night), yet still somehow buzzing with an energy. A gentle suffusing heat under your skin as you watch Santi walk inside and kick off his shoes at the end of the bed, before turning back towards you.

You have entered a few paces behind him, after nearly tripping on your gown all over again by the door, but now, you are quite steady on your feet - aside from that slight, nervous tremble in your quaking legs as he looks at you like that. As Santi looks you up and down, eyes skimming over the contours of your dress and hence everywhere it hugs your figure. Evidently, he likes what he sees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his brown eyes shining as if he’s looking at you for the first time that day, even if his gaze has barely left you all night. “I know it’s the bride’s day, but you look fuckin’ smokin’, sweetie.”

“You think so?” you ask humbly, suddenly feeling unreasonably shy. Flustered even.

“Yeah. I think so,” he nods, positively certain. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.”

You look at him. You look at him in a way which suggests an answer in your eyes instead of a question. A clear intention in your body, instead of uncertainty. But he doesn’t push you. He doesn’t assume. He doesn’t make a move. Instead, his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile, offering you a lazy flash of teeth, and he shoves his thumbs into his belt loops.

“Well, we’re officially off the clock now, so I’m calling it. Well done, Maid of Honour. Think we nailed it? Made a pretty damn good team?”

A smile lights your face. You did. You flowed. You fit. It was easy.

Fuck. It feels so easy. Why had you ever thought this would be hard?

You nibble on your lip, eyeing him with intention, and a hard swallow trails down his throat in response.

“Off the clock, hmm?” you say breathily. “No more titles or duties? Huh. That’s a real shame.”

“How so?” he asks, his eyes devouring you alive, but his body fixed resolutely in place. Transfixed to the spot.

“Because it’s traditional for the Best Man to get with one of the bridesmaids, isn’t it?”

A slow, disbelieving smile inches over his face, and he looks at his feet, a little bashful. “Gross tradition. Kinda sexist,” he says, and your gaze fixates on his full, curving lips. On his hands, poised and broad at his belt.

“So, you don’t want to make out then?” you ask in your most sultry voice, mere breath.

The man huffs out a quick, broken exhale. “Fuck me. You know I do, sweetie. But only if you’re ready.”

Ready. Are you ready?

“Santiago,” you say, with conviction, your eyes dancing between his. “I’m ready.”

Santi searches your face one last time, just to be certain. He’s sure, of course – has been for a long time, but he needs to know that you truly want this. That you want this now. So, he looks at you, and he finds nothing but permission. Even so, after so long, he still can’t quite believe it. He would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe – or beyond – and, so dammit, he will ask you again.

“C-can I..” he begins, and his voice already sounds choked; hollowed out with need. “Fuck, Princesa, can I kiss you?”

Too long. Too long without moving. Without touching. Too long.

If you were suddenly ready, his kiss becomes even more suddenly overdue.

“You’d better,” you encourage, feeling like vapour. “Unless you want me to do it first.”

With permission granted, you expect him to be on you, with a surge. All at once. But Santi has been patiently waiting for you long enough. He can wait just a little longer, and, when he subtly tips his chin up, ever so slightly, and when he near growls “come here then, honey,” somehow, it is perfect. Somehow, it is a thousand times hotter that he makes you come to him.

You lift the hem of your dress, and you pad delicately towards him, feeling like you are wading through molten honey to get to him, the air thick and sweet.

“That’s it. Come here, baby,” he encourages, with a curl of his index finger beckoning you to him, his voice curling in the pit of you, making you feel weak in the best way possible. Making you feel spent before he’s even done so much as brush you with his hand or his lips.

You close the remaining distance with your steps, the anticipation too much, and your legs feeling so weak from the reckless lust and the light, liquid softness in his eyes. By this point, you are begging for his arms to reach out and clasp you- to hold you up; make you secure and safe in him. You are begging for his lips to sink down on to yours. But he makes you wait, through a few more slow, stretched moments. Makes you inch your mouth closer and closer until your lips are almost skimming his. He makes you wait until you are moaning his name into the air before he has even touched you.

“Santi.”

And, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that when you call for him, he is always there to take care of you.

You know he will take care of you.

With that, his name a plea, he swoops his broad, large hand up until he is holding you, his fingers closing around your jaw and your throat, trailing down your neck. His touch is painfully gentle, but in a way that makes you want him to squeeze, a little harder. In a way that makes you push yourself ever so subtly into his hand. A way that draws a silken moan from deep in your chest, and Santi is moved to dip the pad of his thumb into your mouth, where it meets your wet and willing warmth. When your tongue skims him, humming as you taste his saltiness, that seems to be the final straw, a wrecked groan sounding from his throat, and finally he surges on to your lips, leading with his tongue, thrusting into your open mouth and drinking down every sound and moan he can draw from you, his stubble rough against you. You don’t care if he leaves you raw.

It’s tender, and it’s gentle, but Santi knows all about control, and you can tell he’s holding back. His hands are lethal, and he knows just how to kill you softly; but, you are certain, that if you want more of his power, he’ll give it to you. That he’ll take care of you however you like.

So, he kisses you more deeply, harder, and you go near limp against him until one of his arms wraps at the back of your head and one at the small of your back, making you feel a feeble thing, waning in his arms as his large hands support you. Except; you’re not feeble though. You’re not by a long shot, and you know exactly what you want.

“Santi,” you suspire, letting him walk you back against the wall, pressing his bulging arousal into you as more wrangled sounds and little grunts slip from his parted lips.

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, already sounding wrecked for you.

“There’s only one shower. Wanna share?!”

Even as he releases an endlessly eager, disbelieving breath, his eyes keenly search your face, checking you are ready. He watches, enraptured, as your lips curl into a deliciously sinful smile.

“You know. We don’t have to rush this,” he insists, even as he shivers with need, closing his eyes and biting his lip when you angle your hips to brush the tenting bulge at his crotch, ever so fleetingly, his hips bucking into you immediately in pursuit of more pressure.

“I know,” you say coolly, your body an undercurrent of frenzy, but your mind calm and sure. You push him back, with your palms to his chest, making room for you to about-turn into the bathroom, shimmying off your dress as you go and letting it waft to the floor like a sigh. Looking at him over your shoulder, with lust-blown eyes, you leave Santi stood there, entirely dumbfounded, as you reveal all of yourself to him.

You retreat, but once the water is running you call out to him, wondering where he has got to. “Take a hint, Garcia. If you’re ready? I’m waiting.”

And, he doesn’t waste another second before joining you.

THE END

(BONUS: Outfit inspo, if you wanna imagine him in the suits a lil better 😉)

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac

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justkending · 3 years

Text

Moral of the Story (Prologue)

Series Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, and a tragic heartbreaking divorce, the two now hold grudges for how the other handled the whole thing in the past. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all. (This summary will be shorter in other chapters. I just needed to get the full concept out there;)

A/N (repeat): So the other day while I was doing my hair (quite the process), I was playing music and the song Moral of the Story by Ashe came on. Mind you, I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but for some reason, this time I got a major story idea! Listening to the lyrics brought me to this new series. Of course, the lengthy summary above will give you an idea of what came to my brain, but I recommend you listen to the song still because it plays a big part in my thought process:) (Plus it’s a good song;) Enjoy and please do not hesitate to share your thoughts and comments with me! I love each and every single one<3

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N (Modern AU)

Word Count: 1200+

Prologue:

"Melody, have the papers for the Bee's Knees company come in yet?"

"Uh, no. But I can call them again and see if they faxed it or sent over a physical copy though," Melody answered from her desk, already typing away to find the company.

"Perfect. We have a meeting with a recycling plant next week and I want to get everything set before we go in with them," Y/N nodded, coming out from her office with a file in her hands. She turned to her assistant at the front desk who was about 20 emails deep and already finding the issue. "Hey, you're not coming in tomorrow, right?"

"Um, no, no. I am. I rescheduled that date," she answered bashfully as if she had been caught in the act of something.

"Melody..." Y/N drug out, hand on her hip.

"What? I- He understood. He said he was fine moving it to Saturday," the young woman shrugged, never looking back at her boss that was clearly sending her a motherly stare.

"You're already over your 40 hours this week, and you've rescheduled with him, what? 3 times now?" Y/N moved to the front of the desk so the young brunette had to make eye contact with her.

"Yes," she answered hesitantly.

"Is it just nerves or something else?" Y/N smirked.

"I'm not nervous... It's just been a while since I've had time for a date."

"Two things about what you just said in the past minute. One, clearly this guy likes you because he's rescheduled with you this many times and hasn't called it off yet. So if you're nervous about it not going well on his end, I think you're safe," Y/N pointed a finger at her.

"But-," Melody started.

"Second," Y/N cut off with a raised eyebrow. "I'm giving you time to go on a date and you're still not taking it. Work is no longer an excuse."

Melody stopped avoiding eye contact and looked up at the Y/H/C hair woman leaning on her reception desk.

"You've been talking with my mom again, haven't you?" she sighed.

"I promised I'd take care of you. So yes, I have. And though her reasoning for you dating is because she wants grandbabies, I just want you to have fun and live your life. You're 22. Don't waste your young years being scared."

"Ugh, fine. I'll text him now and see if he's still available for tonight," she groaned.

"Perfect!" Y/N grinned in victory as she started to walk back to her office. "I expect the details in the morning," she winked before she walked in.

"Oh, Y/N!" Melody stopped her. "A message came for you while you were in that last meeting."

"Who from?" Y/N quirked an eyebrow, moving back to the desk.

"Uh, I don't really know. Didn't sound familiar, but here's the name and number they said to call back from," she answered, handing her a note.

Y/N took the small paper and looked it over. Her face dropped and her eyes widened.

"You ok? Is it someone you know?" the young assistant asked, noticing what looked like horror on her face.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, an old acquaintance of mine," Y/N tried to quickly brush off. "Um, I'm going to take this. Can you hold any calls and if anyone comes to talk, tell them to just email me?"

"Oh, ok. Yeah, I'll take care of it," Melody nodded.

"Thank you."

Rushing back to her office and quickly shutting her door, she raced to her phone. She read the business name again, not sure if she was dreaming or if it was a hallucination.

Nope. Hammer Attorney was written in Melody's perfect penmanship on the paper with a number that held an area code from New York. A place she never thought she would hear from again and from a town she hadn't visited in almost 10 years._________________

"Buck, did you tell Fury about getting those new water therapy machines?" Steve shouted from his room.

"We're at home, Steve. Why are we talking about work?" Bucky groaned as he slouched on the couch. A beer in hand and a documentary with I Survived stories playing in front of him.

Steve came in from around the corner looking down at his phone in hand before moving his eye line to his roommate.

"Because I just got a call from the night crew saying that the last one that was working, finally went out tonight while they were running it for some test," Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, you would think that a facility run by a billionaire who literally makes his money on high-tech machines, wouldn't have to ask for those kinds of things," Bucky groaned, grabbing his own phone and going through emails. "Let me check to see if the email went through. He wasn't in office when I went to tell him."

As he was sorting through the hundreds of emails sent back and forth just this week alone, he found the reply message.

"Yeah, management confirmed it. They should be in by Saturday it looks like. Guess Stark was still working out the kinks to a new one and was waiting to send one our way until the last one died to get more time on his newest model."

Steve nodded before walking to the kitchen and typing Bucky's response to the other crew members.

"The man is always finding new ways to upgrade them before he can even send them to us."

Just as Bucky was about to throw his phone to the side again though, it started ringing. Looking at the caller ID, he didn't recognize the unknown number. It was from in-state but in his hometown area of Brooklyn. He pinched his eyebrows together confused at the call, but answered it anyway, thinking it must be someone from home.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Mr. Barnes?" The other voice answered.

"Yes, this is him. Who's this?" he asked, sitting up a little and putting the beer on the end table.

"My name is Matthew Murdock. I work at Nelson and Murdock Law firm," he went on. Bucky shook his head not knowing what that was supposed to mean. "Well, you may actually know us previously as Hammer Attorney. We recently just took over their business after some fraud issues."

Bucky's heart stopped. He knew what that name meant.

"I hate to inform you, but we were going through some of their old files. Ones we were informed could be incomplete or done completely incorrectly due to little care in the actual cases, but more so in taking the money."

"Incomplete cases?" Bucky said softly. His brain was still trying to wrap around the conversation.

"Yes, unfortunately, it looks like a lot of cases having to deal with divorces that the past owners handled, were done strictly in order to launder money. They weren't actually certified, nor trained in handling divorce settlements."

Bucky froze. Eyes wide. Mouth agape.

He stuttered out a response when the man on the other line didn't continue.

"A-And talking about incomplete divorce settlements, you called because..." Bucky knew. He needed to hear it out loud because if he didn't, it wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Barnes, but it looks as though you and your wife, Y/N Y/L/N or sorry, Y/N Barnes, are actually not divorced."

(I will release the first chapter at the beginning of next week! That way I can give myself some time to write more chapters before sharing it!)

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

#bucky barnes x reader au #bucky barnes highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes collge au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #justkending #new series #new marvel series #marvel au

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) ( Complete )

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 ( Final )

Something about sitting on the counter in Jungkook’s kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt and chopping carrots , while the clock read 2.20 AM felt so right, that I couldn’t stop grinning.

Jungkook was singing softly and apparently singing was yet another thing he was ridiculously good at.

“You’re singing at our wedding. You sound like an angel.” I declared, pointing one red veggie at him.

Jungkook laughed.

“Sure, what song?”

“Something sweet and nice and-”

“ Take off those heels- Lay on my bed- Whisper dirty secrets as I’m pulling on your hair.....”

I glared at him.

“absolutely not.”

“Aww Come on... “ Jungkook gave me the full brunt of his puppy eyes, “We should be true to ourselves and lets be real, yes I enjoy being corny and romantic with you but...it’s in the bed that we truly shine as a couple.” He grinned, bunny teeth poking out in an entirely too adorable way considering that he wanted to sing a fucking sex song at our ‘not-even-sure-if-its-happening wedding’ .

“No one else needs to know that...” I shuddered. My sister would expire on the spot.

“ They will when we sneak out at the reception to have sex in the closet.”

“In my wedding dress? Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes glittered.

“We’re going to be married in the Maldives. You’re going to be in a bikini.” He said casually.

I blinked.

“A bikini?”

“Yes. A bikini. The kind I can undo with just a couple of tugs on a string. “

“You’ve...given this a lot of thought.” I smirked.

He nodded.

“I am...but only because it’s damn near impossible to think of anything else when you’re in front of me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”.

He shrugged,

“Even picked out a ring.”

“Liar.” I hissed and he laughed.

“You’re right. I haven’t picked a ring. We’ll pick one together ....when we want to get married.”

“But...thats ...not anytime soon right?” I said nervously. Jungkook gave me a smile, moving back to stirring the saucepan with the meat and adding some sauce.

“It doesn’t have to be ever. I’m happy this way. If one day you wake up and feel like you’re missing a ring on your finger, we’ll go do the whole wedding shebang. If not, that's fine too. We can spend the rest of our lives being the horny couple everyone avoids at family gatherings. ” he shrugged.

I laughed but felt my heart expand a few sizes inside me.

“Thank you.” I whispered and he leaned over the counter to gently grip my chin, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“No one else gets to say what we are. No one else gets to say what we can or can’t do. Okay?” He rubbed his nose against mine and I nodded.

I bit my lips, thinking about something that had always bothered me.

“Your parents-” He cut me off before I could finish.

“I won’t lie. They’ll probably want me to...reconsider.” He sighed. “ But I don’t think they’ll give you a hard time about it.. They’re polite and good people. Just have a different idea of what I need in a wife.”

I played with the hem of his shirt.

“Sana , she’s-” i couldn’t even say it, just looking up at him. He was already staring at me.

He nodded, smiling a little.

“Someone my parents have been trying to set me up with, yeah.” He admitted.

“You didn’t turn her down ...” I said softly, feeling hurt .

He stared at me, turning the heat down on the pan before coming around to stand in front of me.

“Hey, come on, don’t look like that, baby...”

“And she’s going to be there at your fight today and-”

“I just didn’t want to pick a fight with my parents before today’s match. Because believe it or not, I was going to ask you out today , after I won.”

I blinked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

“Really. I... you’ve been staying over and stuff, and you actually looked jealous of Sana so I thought...you know maybe you’ve changed your mind about us.... So I wanted to ask you out. And I wanted my parents to be in a good mood when I told them I’m with you. So I indulged them a little , that’s all.”

I nodded. Talking about his parents made me think of my own mother and God, I could feel a headache coming on. But I had to tell him the truth.

“My mom...she’s...she’s a little...”

He squeezed my knees, leaning closer and bumping my head with his.

“I’m not the kind of guy women usually want to bring home to their parents, but i will wear a nice button down, brush my teeth and get a whole bunch of flowers for her when you ask me to.” He whispered.

“She’ll only want you for your money.” I blurted out.

He straightened, looking confused.

Embarrassment flooded me but I had to be honest with him.

“My mother, she... she got used to a really luxurious lifestyle with my dad and when he died, she just...she couldn’t accept that she’s going to have to give up a lot of stuff... So she’ll try to get you to buy her things. I’ll try to keep her away as much as I can but-”

“I really wouldn’t mind buying her stuff-”

I shook my head fiercely.

“No..No..that’s... I can’t ask you to that.”

Areum look at me-” He demanded and I stared at him.

“You do know that I’m like, filthy rich, right?” He said firmly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes but-”

“Buying your mom a few trinkets every month wouldn’t even put a dent in the amount of money I make in a fucking hour.” He raised both his eyebrows.

I frowned.

“Okay, stop bragging.”

He laughed.

“ I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about it okay? Besides you can always repay me for it. “

I gaped at him.

“I cannot repay-”

“In kisses.” He finished.

I stared at him, not fooled at all.

“And office sex. I really really want to spend a whole entire day at work with you wrapped around my cock...not even fucking,,,just you in my lap, me inside you.... Its like my biggest fantasy.” His eyes looked a little glazed.

I felt heat rush all the way up to my ears, my face flaming.

“You’re insatiable” I muttered, whacking his shoulder.

His eyes shifted, gaze darkening and heavy with something that was more than just lust. More than just attraction,. It was heavy and over powering, strong and impossible to ignore. It was so heavy and dark and sensuous and yet somehow so achingly soft and affectionate.

“It’s never enough, “ He leaned in close, curving fingers on my waist and kissing my neck. “ After two years, I tell myself I should have had enough of you but...” He brushed his lips against mine, “ It’s not. I want to touch you more. I always come away from our time together wishing I could touch you some more. Want to touch you more, take in that scent of yours, watch your eyes flash when I make you cum. ”

He grabbed my knees, spreading my legs and I became acutely aware of being completely naked underneath his shirt.

“We’re not having sex on the kitchen counter.” I protested, laughing and he hummed, kissing my jaw gently.

“Come on, its a rite of passage. Its not true love if you don’t have sex on the kitchen counter while your dinner burns on the stove...”

Oh, well.

Maybe he was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Should i just forfeit the match tonight?” Jungkook whispered, voice muffled against my shoulder blades as he pressed soft little kisses to my skin , deliciously slow and gentle.

I frowned, face down on the soft duvet on his bed, fingers curled into the fabric, trying to chase sleep.

The slightly golden light spilling into the room told me it was morning, but still pretty early. We could definitely afford to sleep in a few more hours at least. It had been almost four in the morning when we had finally fallen asleep. Jungkook had wanted to leave the kitchen as it was but I couldn’t fathom leaving some poor maid the task of cleaning cum off the mahogany surface.

“Why would you say that?” i said, surprised.

Jungkook sighed.

“I don’t know. “ He pulled away from me and rolled to the side. I stared at him as he gazed back at me.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, genuinely concerned.

He gave me a soft smile.

“It’s just a thought. I have it every morning of a major match.” He ran a palm over his face, mussing up his hair bore reaching out to press a kiss on my forehead.

“Is it nervousness?” I asked, feeling anxious. There was something oddly frightening about seeing this side of Jungkook. I’d only ever seen the cool, confident asshole. The one that had no qualms about taking what he wanted, when he wanted.

And I felt .... like it was a privilege he was granting me, letting me see the vulnerable side to his well earned cockiness.

He shook his head.

“It’s not. I’m not worried about losing, wouldn’t even mind losing once in a while.”

“But you don’t... you’re literally incapable of losing, golden maknae...” I teased and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s actually about you.” He reached out and cupped my cheek gently.

I blinked, pressing my own fingers over his. .

“What?”

“I’m not sure you’ll....like that side of me.” He said hesitantly.

“Jungkook...”

“A large part of why I never let you see me fight is because, I’m not a nice person in the ring. I don’t show a lot of mercy ... I sometimes use more force than necessary and well, there’s nothing beautiful about beating the shit out of someone is there?”

I swallowed.

“You think I’ll see you differently, if I watch you fight.”

He nodded.

“Won’t you? It’s not a very dignified sport.”

I hesitated, not sure what to say to that.

“I’ve not... I don’t think I’ve ever thought it was weird, in a bad way, that you boxed. I just thought it was something you were good at. It’s not... I don’t think I feel that deeply about it.”

He nodded.

“I believe you . But it still worries me. I’m just scared I guess...”

“Scared..?”

“Scared that seeing me in the ring will make you change your mind about us.”

I jolted, stunned.

Moving quickly to his side , I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him hard.

I pulled back to glare at him.

“I’m not going to leave you over a sport you play.” I said drily .

He chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose.

“If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I’m not a delicate flower, Jungkook. I’m not going to enjoy watching you get hurt, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just...give up on everything that you are.... because of this.”

“You’re right.... I’m sorry if i worried you.” He said softly , and it was so disarming, how much adoration was writ large on his features.

I was used to the lust and the passion and the roughness but this Jungkook, the tender, gentle lover....he was sending me into a downward spiral.

“This is weird.” I laughed a little.

He grinned.

“What?” He scooted closer, reaching out to gently hold my hand.

“You...being so...” I stopped when he stroked the delicate skin on the back of my hand with feather light touches.

“So...what?” His eyebrows quirked up, teasing and I felt myself blushing so furiously .

“Stop it...” I whispered, mortified with how hot my face was getting. That tender, adoring look on his face was making it impossible for me to breathe.

Jungkook gave me a wicked smile and carefully slotted his fingers between mine, holding my hand gently before raising it up to kiss my knuckles.

“What’s making you turn so red, angel?” He pressed soft affectionate kisses, on each knuckle and then the inside of my wrist and I smiled so wide my cheeks began to hurt a bit.

“Jungkook...” I could barely get the words out and it was so incredibly embarrassing that something as innocently affectionate as him holding my hand was filling me with an incontrollable urge to just burst into tears.

“ I love you...” He whispered , blowing gently on my fingers.

“Oh, God...” I could feel my soul threatening to leave my body.

“Love every little bit of you...” He rolled over me, straddling my waist , arms caging me in as he pressed one soft kiss to my temple.

“I’m going to cry.” I said firmly.

“Love that you’re so brave, so unafraid. “ He kissed the edge of my brows., “ love that you stand up for yourself, love that you don’t take shit from anyone, even me and I love that you’re here. In my arms. Like this, although I don’t deserve you at all, my beautiful goddess....” he whispered.

The nickname made me astral project for one hot minute.

Determined to get some control back, I grabbed the drawstrings of his sweatpants, untying the loose knot before slipping my fingers into the waistband.

“Hmm... you’re right. You don’t deserve. But because I’m a generous generous goddess, how about I let you worship me, the way I deserve ....” I whispered, tugging his pants down, pushing the fabric past his muscled thighs. He laughed.

“And how would that be?”

“Let me use that hot, thick dick of yours... Wanna ride it till my thighs shake, make you cum so hard you’ll see heaven...” I whispered and he rolled his eyes.

“This is supposed to be a soft moment .... and all you’re interested in is my cock , you dirty little-” He choked when I shimmied down, quickly. Scooting down the bed till i was face to face with his dick, his thighs straddling my chest and his cock right up against my mouth.

I licked the tip, gently.

“I love you too..” I whispered, wrapping my lips around the soft head , letting my lips suck on the sensitive skin, tongue licking the soft underside as he grabbed on to the headboard to steady himself.

“Areum-”

“Love how much you care for me,” I ran the tip of my tongue all over the head , getting it nice and sloppy, “ how upset you get when I’m hurting....” I opened my mouth wide, lifting up just a bit to suck more of him into my mouth.

“Oh God-”

“Love how kind, and talented and nice you are. Love how good you are at making me feel good. No one makes me feel as good as you do, Jungkook...”

He was staring down at me, eyes blown with a mixture of arousal and affection, fingers carding through my hair gently.

I gave his hip a small pat.

“Fuck my mouth... i can’t suck you off like this.” I squeezed his ass , enjoying how hard it felt beneath my hand. I gripped his thighs, stroking them up and down, leanly muscled and corded with strength.

And then, completely losing my senses,

“Namjoon’s thighs are a little bigger than yours right? ” I said thoughtfully, completely serious and not even realizing what i was saying and who I was saying it to until his grip on my hair tightened hard enough .

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he was off me in a second.

The look of sheer and absolute horror on his face made me laugh so hard i nearly choked.

Growling, he grabbed me by the shoulders, flipping me over so fast, i bounced off the mattress. I laughed into the fabric of the pillow .

“Jungkook, i was just jok--” I got cut off by a smack to the back of my thigh, hard and stinging.

“Hyung’s thighs? Really, Areum, you wanna got there?” He smacked me again, and I whined.

“Is this any way to treat a goddess?” I choked out, struggling to crawl away but he held me down easily.

“Shouldn’t ever go soft on you..., called you a goddess one time and suddenly you wanna be a little brat about it......” He grunted, fingers closing around my upper arms and pulling my hands back so hard that my shoulder actually popped.

He pulled me up till I was on my knees, his chest pressed to my back as he gripped my wrists hard.

“Ow!! I’m sorry!” I yelped, but he wasn’t listening, and I grinned when i felt the familiar cold of metal on my wrists.

“You’re so easily riled...” I added a slight lilt to my words, knowing how much it annoyed him.

He didn’t disappoint, grabbing my chin hard and yanking my head back so I could stare at him.

“Only when you forget your place, angel.” He whispered .

“My place?” I blinked innocently. “ And where is that?”

He gave me a quick bruising kiss.

“In my heart most of the time. But right now, on your knees up against the head board so I can fuck your brains out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I love you.” Jungkook said cheerfully, leaning against the wall and grinning like the Chesire cat. I straightened from where I was kneeling, tying my sneakers.

I stared at him, completely amused.

“Jungkook you don’t have to say that so often...” I shook my head.

He frowned.

“I like being able to say those words to you. I spent entirely too many months thinking them and not being allowed to say them.”

I felt my heart melt a little.

“I love you too. “ I whispered.

“I wouldn’t mind you being there, you know. I know I said all that stuff, but if you really want to see me fight from up front....”

I shook my head.

“Its alright. I won’t be anywhere near the front and I’ll make sure to look away when you’re punching your opponent. “ I teased.

He sighed.

“Just remember that’s not who I am, okay? I... I love you.” He said again.

“Now the word’s just beginning to lose all meaning.” I laughed.

He looked hurt at that.

I rushed to sooth him.

“I’m just joking, I’m joking... Of course it has meaning and i love that you’ve suddenly turned into a love bot, but let’s just... tone it down. Just a little bit.” I pinched my fingers together,.

He tugged his lower lips between his teeth.

“You’ll be okay to get to the venue by yourself right? I’m going to take a shower and a nap before I head there.”

“I’ll be fine.” I waved him off. “ We’ll meet up after you win and celebrate properly.” I winked, giving him one last kiss before waving bye.

As the door closed behind him, I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear.

Ain’t love grand?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was wrong.

I couldn’t do this.

“He is so hot. Oh my God, you’re so lucky, Sana...look at his fucking abs.”

I willed myself not to take a swing at the girl next to me. I wanted to clench my fist, raise my arm and just let loose till she was knocked out on the floor. The women from the office had seen me hovering awkwardly at the back and swooped on me like a pair of vultures.

I’d been swept to the very front with them, my protests falling on deaf ears and now, suddenly I had front row seats to watching the love of my life get hurt.

There was nothing even remotely enjoyable about watching Jungkook get hit. And although it was clear that he was winning , clear that he was so much better than his opponent, there was no denying that the other guy was good too.

And the two times he had managed to catch Jungkook off guard, landing a couple of punches, my entire heart had cracked into two.

“He’s going to be my husband...can you believe?” San whispered next to me and I startled.,

Oh God.

The girls looked at me eagerly.

“Oh...that’s yeah. Sounds amazing.” I smiled.

“He could probably like fuck you against the wall, “ Jieun whispered, giggling .

Sana blushed so red I wanted to scream.

“So hot... Do you think he’s... you know...big?” She nudged me lightly, laughing.

Oh wow. I clenched my fists, feeling rage fill my veins so fast that I saw red.

But I was saved by the sound of a commotion up front and my head whipped around, panic setting in.

I stared at the ring. Jungkook stood back while his opponent was flat on the floor, unmoving.

Great, these horny bitches had made me miss him taking the winning shot.

i watched the referee kneel beside the prone man, counting slowly and I saw Jungkook turn to stare right at me.

“He’s looking at you, Sana... He’s looking at you, look!!” Jieun grinned.

I bit my lips, smiling at him.

“I think you should go to him.” The girls told Sana and I jumped.

What the fuck??

Unable to bear it, I pushed past them, ignoring their surprised squawks as I pushed past the crowd to the aisle.

“And , ladies and gentleman, we have ourselves a winner. Give it up for our very own, Jeon Jung Kook!!”

The crowd went wild, the referee raising his hand up in victory.

I ran all the way up to the ring, narrowly missing the guard near the front and crawling up into the ring.

Jungkook stared at me, wide eyes as I jumped on him with a running leap.

He caught me around the waist easily, laughing. He gripped my butt, hoisting me up and I wrapped my thighs tight around his waist.

“Oh, wow”. He whispered, but I was too busy searching the crowd for the three girls who had triggered me into this madness.

Sana and her two friends stood slack jawed, eyes wide as saucers as they stared at me.

I snatched the mic out of Jungkook’s hand. Glared right at them.

“To answer your question...yes.. he’s big. The biggest I’ve ever had and what’s more he knows how to use it too. Also, stay the fuck away from my boyfriend and stop talking about him like he’s a piece of meat, you whores. You do know I work in the HR department right? I will file sexual harassment suits on the three of you so fast you’ll-”

Jungkook grabbed the mic out of my hands before I could finish, looking absolutely horrified.

“You crazy little bint!” He laughed aloud and I pouted.

“They’re taking about your dick. I don’t like that.” I protested.

“Baby, you know my dick is yours.”

“Damn right it is.” I said firmly.

He grinned a bit.

“And so is my heart.”

I let him kiss me, the background noise and the sound of of cheering fading away as I let my eyes flutter shut, reveling in just him.

Of course, we had things to do. Meet our parents. Make our relationship public.... a whole lot of messy grown up stuff that would annoy the fuck out of both of us.

But for now, kissing him in front of everyone, ignoring Namjoon’s screams of, ‘ Jungkook there are reporters here!!! ’ and my sister’s shouts of, ‘ stop you heathens’.....

Well, this felt just right.

The End .

Authors Note : Well, this was a whole entire journey wasn’t it!!!!! I will deeply miss Jungkook and Areum, I loved them with my whole entire heart. I hope you guys loved them too... Let me know if you did... As always, feedback is much, much appreciated !!!! Thank you for sticking by. Love and kisses.

taglist :

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@bonyg

@craztextae

#jungkook fics #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #bts smut #bts au #bts fics #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfics

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joviewinchester · 3 years

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“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

��I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I’m fine. See?” She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

#damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #matt donovan #the vampire diares imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x reader

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yakumtsaki · 3 years

Photo

Welcome, dear readers, to part 1 of the finale to the BackupKingdom2 saga! We’re in our final ambition now, let’s check how Liz’s post-divorce-bloodbath is going..

Oh yes, excellent. Our path to death-achievement-glory has been paved with so many executions that wherever I look I see npcs crying..

..comforting each other..

..and in Agnes' case, coming straight to Liz to.. ask for mercy for the populace I guess?? Bruh. I can't believe we even brought down AGNES, truly this is the saddest kingdom on earth. Amazing job, Liz, you've definitely earned your place in the tyrant hall of fame!

Now a lesser player would be like "oh, maybe we should chill a little on the insane tyrant thing, finish the Pirate/Noble arc cause we've been dragging this war out so the pirates/guildsmen would keep spawning and it should have ended like 20 quests ago" and true, we could just end it, we ran a very effective operation around here, shoutout to MVPs Donius and Bellinda and their 'seductive' legendary traits:

They bedded them and Liz beheaded them, the power of teamwork! So one could say that we should consider raising kingdom morale now because everyone is so depressed but I think, if anything, now is the time to ramp it up and go for some of the other morally questionable achievements! Like Machiavelli said, you should commit all your atrocities at once! What do you think, Liz? Ready to get atrocious?

-OH FUCK YEA, I’M ENRAGED, I DROPPED MY FIDDLE IN THE PIT AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE SERVANT TO GET ME A NEW ONE!! WHY DOES EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME >:(

Aw I’m sorry Liz, but I’m sure you the upcoming suffering of your subjects will cheer you up!

-Ok motherfuckers, by order of the Crown aka ME -you hear that Rae?? ME, NOT YOU. God I want to execute you so bad, fucking ingrate, do you remember what rags you were wearing when I hired you??

Let’s get this back on track, Liz.

-Right, so by order of the Crown, Magus Olivia and Spymaster Spainot are given COMPLETE LEGAL IMMUNITY to do whatever the fuck they want in the interest of earning achievements, so don’t you people come crying to me cause I don’t give one tiny chinchilla crap about your health and livelihoods. If you need me for something actually important, I'll be at the gates, executing anyone who doesn't like my fiddle playing.

-Oh man, this folksy peasant hat isn’t protecting my ears enough.

-THOUGHT I WOULDN’T HEAR YOUR LITTLE MURMUR, DID YOU -YOUR MAJESTY NO I ONLY MEANT MY EARS WERE COLD -WELL ALL OF YOUR BODY’S ABOUT TO BE COLD NOW! CONSTABLE, THROW THIS PEASANT IN THE PIT

-Death marker? I hardly know 'er!

So the Constable npc has this little Billy Elliot subplot going, I'm pretty sure he has the 'drunkard' fatal flaw because he was always at the tavern so I had Bellinda try to hire him to perform in one of her plays just to see what would happen and it actually worked, and now he moonlights as an actor! It's cute but it also takes forever for him to come arrest people.

-THEY LOVE ME ❤️😁 -CONSTABLE WHATSYOURNAME, COME OVER HERE AND DO YOUR FUCKING JOB OR YOU'RE NEXT FOR THE PIT

-No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, when someone dies😢

In the background you can see that Bellinda just got a pregnancy bump, it’s her lovechild with Donius, I for real can’t keep these two apart. Anyway, the time has come..

..to unleash Magus Olivia onto the populace.

-You know what, I'd rather not, this book is finally getting good and I'm sick of cursing peasants, it doesn't even drop their mood that much..

Oh no, Olivia my beloved, we're not cursing them, we're going for the 'Well Done' achievement!

-NO WAY.

WAY.

-Won't I be executed??

You have immunity! You can do whatever you want!! And, AND, once you complete it, because I know it's tiring, I'll give you a magic skeletal parrot as a gift!! Edward got all the materials for it while treasure-hunting, you'd think I'd let him keep it but that's not the kind of shop I'm running here.

-This is my face of pure, childlike happiness!

Good lord, it’s terrifying, please don’t look at me like that.

-Alright, time to roll down my sleeves so they look more sinister and do this thing.

You can do it, Olivia!

-Of course I can, save your reassurance for the flops that need it.

-I.. cast.. INFERNO!

...

-What?

I mean really, those are the words, "I cast inferno"? Can't you say something with more evil magical flair?

-Not when I have to cast it 80 fucking times I can't.

-IT BURNS, IT BURNSSSSS

Oh how the tables have turned, usually it's the witch that gets burned, huhu! Did you hear that, Olivia? Did you like my joke??

-Oh, it's beautiful!

Well it wasn't one of my best-

-Not you, you needy moron, the sight of burning flesh! I can't wait to do this 79 more times!

Alright, so everyone in the tavern has been turned into a chicken nugget, time to get some rest and check in with Spainot!

-Amazing news, Rodolfo, I just got royal permission to unlawfully lock up and interrogate whoever I want for the achievements!!!

-Darling, no offense, but aren't you a bit too shit at your job for that? -WHAT????

-FUCK YOU RODOLFO YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY SUCCESS -I WISH I WAS JEALOUS OF YOUR SUCCESS, THEN YOU'D BE SUCCESSFUL AND I WOULDN'T BE MARRIED TO A BROKE LOSER

-And then he says the only reason he hasn't dumped me is he doesn't wanna be a rando npc while Batshit Liz is on an execution spree, can you believe this bullshit? How can anyone be so hurtful??

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO NO PLEASE DON'T HAVE THIS CHINCHILLA MAUL ME I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT

-How about you give me some marital advice, are you even listening?! Ugh.

That's right, while Olivia is inferno-ing the peasants, I've sicced Spainot on the nobility, specifically all those foreign diplomats that are always hanging in the reception hall, lagging up the place. We're going for the 100 interrogations achievement and we’ve installed a nice spiky torture chair right in the middle of the hall to save time! Now this is how we keep every stratum of society terrified enough to not realize that the person in charge is.. uh.. well you know:

-DANCE TO MY FIDDLE, PIRATE, DANCE!

-I AM!!!!!

-DANCE MORE ENTHUSIASTICALLY. ALL THE WAY TO THE PIT

After a couple days and several locations I feel we’re pretty close to 80 infernos!

I’d say we’ve burned a good 50-60% of the population at this point, everywhere I look I see singed townies-

-so we take this little barbecue to the palace because we’ve ran out of peasants and it’s time to start burning the foreign dignitaries. And it’s a good thing we do, because Olivia meets Nyrexis the Dragon!!!!

Nyrexis is the human form of the dragon from a hilar quest where there’s a dragon in the kingdom and you can either befriend it or slay it, I had Bellinda befriend it:

So if you complete the befriend route of the quest, the human form of the dragon appears in town and is in love with whoever did the quest, in this case Bellinda. I am of course not about to waste Dragonfu on Bellinda’s basic ass, plus I feel Olivia is kind of a dragon with all the people she’s been burning so they have a lot in common!

We dazzle Dragonfu with a coin trick! True magic at work.

-OMG IT WAS BEHIND MY EAR THE WHOLE TIME -I KNOW!

Good God, all of Olivia’s ‘happy’ expressions are terrifying, just don’t smile ever again, you’re too evil for it, you’re gonna scare the dragon away!

Or not!!!!

AWWWWW 🐲❤️🔮

You know what, fuck it, let’s lock it down, when it’s right it’s right!

-Burn stuff with me forever?? -I WILL!!!!

-We are gathered here today, under threat of fiery death, to join two unholy abominations in holy matrimony. Yes, the irony is not lost on me.

AW CONGRATS GUYS <3333 The wizard tower is so small and family un-friendly and Olivia is so unmaternal but come on, like I’m not gonna have her reproduce with a fucking dragon.

Back to Spainot, we’ve hit a slight bump, mainly that this Snordwich lord is proving fucking impossible to torture.

-Um.. Are you enjoying this??? -Sure am, bad boy, but why don’t we take this somewhere more private already?

Wtf, stop sexually harassing the innocent person who’s torturing you! Does no one around here have any sense of humanity anymore??

-Come on, Spainot, throw some flesh-eating rodents at him! -I’M BUILDING UP TO IT, RAE, GAWD. No one likes a back-seat torturer!

-HA, who’s the loser now, Rodolfo? Rodolfo?? RODOLFO

Ya Spai I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure he left while you were interrogating, I haven’t seen him in like 3 days.

-WHAT. So Olivia completes one achievement and gets a dragon wife and a magic skeletal bird and I complete three and get dumped?!

Well what do you want from me, I don’t make the rules!

-YES YOU DO

Can we move on, please? And Olivia had a very rough go of it-

-she got burned in some rando quest and looked positively karma-stricken after, inferno-ing left and right while sporting this look! She deserves a magic bird!

Congrats on your success and 4 kids, Olivia!

-I love this skeleton bird more than I thought it possible to ever love something.

-Gee, thanks mom.

We had leftover bones so here, Spainot, you get a magic bird too.

-A bone parrot is little comfort when you’ve lost the only bone that matters! Why Rodolfo, whyyyyy!!!!!!!!!

Oh I don’t know, probably because you challenged him to duels 3 times a day?

-No, that can’t be it.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but you look like a man who has nothing to live for?

-Yea, I certainly don’t.

So you wouldn’t mind like, jumping into the pit multiple times so you can get the parts we need for the hardest achievement in game aka Legendary Doomsword?

-Rodolfo had one of those too, it was legendary and now that it’s gone I’m doomed!!!

Ok ya ENOUGH metaphors about Rodolfo’s absent penis, although they really are writing themselves. We’ll get him back! If you survive all the pit jumping that is. Join us next time for part 2: Legendary Doomsword!

#tsm

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

daddy issues - chapter x

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I looked over at the man driving beside me, a feeling of comfort and gratitude suddenly washing over me. Over the last five weeks, Ransom had truly been the partner I had always hoped to have a baby with, even if we weren’t together in the way I originally would have wanted to be with my child’s father.

It almost didn’t matter though, because he was always around. Whenever I needed something, even if it was the middle of the night, he didn’t seem to mind that we lived on opposite ends of the city. He would drop by with my favorite junk food and leave without complaining.

I’d even started to let him sleep on the couch when I figured it was too late for him to drive back by himself. He never tried to make a move again, which was so relieving to me, especially since my pregnancy hormones were begging me to climb him like a tree. But also now that we got to spend actual time together, I’d come to learn he was a very interesting man. Sure, very immature in a lot of ways, but it almost added to his charm, somehow.

It didn’t help my goal of containing my attraction.

We’d gone to two doctor’s appointments and he truly was doing his very best to show me he was here for me - or maybe he just really was excited about having a child. If there was something I’d come to realize in our talks, it was that Ransom didn’t have a particularly loving childhood, so it warmed my heart to see how invested he was in making sure our kid wouldn’t go through the same things that he did.

“Hey,” I called out for his attention, reaching over his lap to squeeze his thigh. “Thanks for doing this with me.” His eyes were a bit wide when they met mine, but his smile mirrored my own.

“Thank you for inviting me. Can’t believe you trust me enough to want to introduce me to your parents.” That made me chuckle. His honesty was overwhelming most times, but it was also one of the traits I liked the most about him, now that I’d become used to it. If there was one thing I could be completely sure of, it was that Ransom Drysdale would not hide how he was really feeling to please anyone. And somehow, that calmed me down.

“Honestly,” I responded, excited with this opportunity to tease him. “Me too.” The insulted gasp that he released had me giggling right away, risking a glance to the side to check that he had actually understood that I was only teasing him. The way the corners of his mouth turned up let me know that he did.

“Okay,” he conceded, nodding but keeping his eyes on the road ahead. We were almost in my childhood neighborhood, I could recognize it even with my eyes closed. There was no logical reason for it, just an instinctive, deep calling, that made me feel at ease around the streets I hadn’t walked for so long. “I guess I deserved that.”

It was silent then, as he slowly drove us to the cul-de-sac my parents had lived in for the last thirty years. Nothing had really changed, and that showed a lot of the people who inhabited it. If Ransom was nervous at the prospect of meeting the grandparents of his future child, he didn’t show. Or well, I didn’t realize it.

“Hey!” I tried to match my parent’s excitement as they almost ran out of the house to meet us by the car, the second we’d stopped in front of the place I had grown up in. I barely had the time to prepare - I’d hoped I would have gotten a few more words in with Ransom, decide what we would say - but it warmed my heart to imagine them by the window, excitedly waiting for us to arrive.

“Oh my, you’re so big already!” My mom exaggerated, prompting me to roll my eyes as I noticed Ransom and my father shaking hands, our luggage already in my companion’s hands. “You really should have told us sooner,” she chastised, but I was prepared for that.

“Mom, c’mon. You know I had a lot to figure out, I didn’t want to let you guys know about a baby that I still had a high risk of losing, and on top of that, I had tons of classes to prepare.” My mom nodded, her eyes never straying from where her hand rested on my belly. I knew she understood it, she was just having a hard time grasping the concept of her baby having a baby.

“Shall we go inside?” Ransom followed closely, dropping the bags at the entrance when my father approached to give me his own inspection. I chuckled lightly at his furrowed brows until finally, he seemed satisfied with what he found and embraced me against his comfortable chest.

“Good to see you, kiddo. And I’m glad you’ve brought Ransom here for us to meet! We’ve prepared the room for you guys, would you like to go upstairs and rest? We can always catch up tomorrow.” Surprise had me blinking a couple of times, taking a second too long to understand what my father meant.

“The room?” I asked, right when Ransom confirmed it, “For us?” He didn’t sound as confused as me, but maybe a bit hopeful even, and it only made the situation even harder to comprehend.

“Yeah,” my mother confirmed, a patient smile on her lips. “We figured, you’re bringing a guy home for the first time and pregnant… It’s obviously pretty serious.” I was at a loss of words, mouth hanging open as I realized my parents were completely okay with the idea of me sleeping with a man I wasn’t married to under their roof, but what happened next really threw me on a loop entirely.

I felt Ransom’s arms around my shoulder, it was what prompted me to turn to the side and look up at him, but instead of finding him at his usual height, I was shocked with a kiss being deposited on my unexpecting lips, instinctively prompting me to close my eyes.

“Thank you so much.” That was all he had to offer after releasing my lips, and it wasn’t even directed at me. “For the reception, for understanding. I’m excited to talk to you more tomorrow, but for now, I think it’s better for the baby if I take this one to bed.”

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Why on Earth would you do that?” I barely believed she managed to wait until we were both inside the bedroom, with the door locked, until she spit it out. I was almost certain she would confess the truth right there, laughing in my face at the prospect of actually being in a relationship with me.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” I feigned nonchalance, shrugging and making a point not to look directly at her as I began to get settled, opening my suitcase and pretending to look for something.

“There was so much we could do about it! Practically anything other than pretend to be together when we aren’t!” Her exasperation irritated me. What was so bad about dating me? Why didn’t she want to be associated to me, the father of her child?

But I chose to take a deep breath, just like the therapist I’d been secretly seeing had taught me. I didn’t want to screw this up, I reminded myself, and I tried to see things from her perspective, instead of immediately focusing on my own feelings of insecurity.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately recognized it, and by the way she looked immediately disarmed, it was probably the right way to start. “I just figured it would be the easier way to go about this, considering what you’ve told me about your parents. I know they weren’t going to be excited about you being a single mother, even though I’m clearly more than excited to be a co-parent regardless of our relationship, and of course, I didn’t intend to lie, but when the opportunity appeared… I just figured we’d take the easier route.”

She didn’t seem to know what to say, and I could see by her expression that it made sense to her too, now that I’d explained. She didn’t want her parents’ interference, and she wanted this trip to go as smoothly as possible. It truly was the simpler way to deal with it.

“I can go downstairs and explain the real situation, if you want me to!” I offered, knowing now she’d be completely reassured of my intentions. “Really, it’s no bother. I’m sure they can fix the guest room for me.”

I turned around to leave, but her hand seized my wrist quickly. “Let’s not bother them, right?” It was impossible to stop the smile from appearing on my face when I turned around to look at her again, finding us much closer than we’d been before. Instinctively, without even thinking, I laced our fingers together, chuckling lowly at her cuteness.

“Right.” The moment felt heavy with something unspoken. I could still feel her lips on mine from when I kissed her earlier to sell the ruse to her parents. I hadn’t planned it, but it felt right for the moment.

It felt right at that moment, but I didn’t want to screw this up. So I put on my most charming smile, the same one that always prompted her to roll her eyes but giggle at me, and question, “Can I keep kissing you, then?” I put a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, my fingers running over her jaw when I found myself unable to pull away. “It’ll make it more believable.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, looking cute as ever with all of her suspicion, but ended up giggling and nodding. It allowed me to finally relax, and so I took the opportunity to look around the room we were in, taking notice of the posters on the wall, the little mementos, and picture frames on the shelves.

“So this is your childhood bedroom? This is hot.” I knew she had rolled her eyes at me, and I was glad we were now at a stage in our relationship where I could say stuff like that without her immediately kicking me out.

“Are you always hard?” For the first time that night, I hesitated. The truth was, and what I wanted to say was that it only happened when she was around, but I didn’t. I knew my silence could make her think I was some sort of creep, but it was better than admitting the truth.

I always wanted her, in one way or another.

“Are you sleepy?” I asked, an effort to change the subject, yet again resorting to messing with my luggage in search of something I didn’t need. “Did the trip tire you out?” Silence followed my question, and I understood she was thinking about it, even if I didn’t know what exactly she needed to think.

I grew tired of pretending to be busy, so I just turned around and faced her as I wanted for an answer, taking advantage of this time to admire just how beautiful she looked, particularly now that her belly had started showing. I don’t think anyone should look that good, not after a five-hour drive, and a burning sensation settled deep in my stomach - I couldn’t tell if it was desire or resentment, fear of ever having to stand back and watch her fall in love with someone who wasn’t me.

“Not really…” Her answer snapped me out of my thoughts, reminding me of what I’d asked. “It’s still so early…” Her eyes were on the night sky behind me, visible through the window of her childhood bedroom, and I shifted from one foot to the other as I waited for her to say something more, but nothing came.

“Well, what do you want to do?” I thought she’d take her time figuring something out - she’d taken so long to decide if she was tired or not - but instead, she surprised me with an immediate response, and an immediate response that almost gave me a heart attack.

“I want to suck your cock.”

It was my turn to not know what to say.

“W-what?” But she seemed decided. Instead of explaining, or offering any sort of insistence, she just shortened the distance between us, hand immediately curling on the edge of my pants as soon as it was within reach.

“Take this off.” I only lost five seconds in hesitation, perusing her eyes, trying to see if this was some sort of joke or test. When it became clear the only way I’d ever find out would be by jumping in head first, I decided to say fuck it.

My hands made quick work of my belt before unzipping my pants, letting it fall down my ankle, and she didn’t even give me the time to step out of it and kick it to the side before she sank down to her knees, taking my boxers with her.

She wasted no time wrapping her lips around the head of my member, already hard from my ever-present infatuation with her, not giving me the opportunity to protest the uncomfortable position she had put herself in. All thoughts of complaints or negotiations flew out of the window and into the night sky the second she started sucking, slowly but surely making her way to take more and more of my cock until her lips were grazing my navel.

My knees buckled and I had to hold the back of her head just to keep myself up, have something to hold onto to stay grounded. My eyes rolled back at the choking, slurping sounds coming out of her, and I silently asked God to allow me to cum this time. I didn’t think I’d survive if she decided to change her mind.

Her mouth felt good - so good. I couldn’t help but praise her. “Oh, fuck,” the curse fell out of my mouth easily when I looked down to find her staring up at me, mischief clear in her eyes. “Y-you’re very good at this.”

She kept on bobbing her head up and down my dick, giving me the sloppiest, most perfect blowjob I’d ever gotten, before pulling away with a pop and teasing, “Oh, yeah? You like it that much?”

Then the situation became overwhelming. My cock twitched inside her mouth, but I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to cum and have to face her regret, I didn’t want to feel guilty for relenting and allowing myself to have this. So I tried to hold back, knuckles brushing her cheeks as I focused on controlling my breathing.

But of course, she’d never let me win.

“You know…” her sultry tone warned me that she wanted me to break, even before her hand curled around my member and began to pump it. “... I thought it was really hot when you were acting all jealous and possessive that night at the bar.”

I inhaled sharply, not only because of the implications of her admission but also because she’d enveloped my balls with her warm mouth as she waited for my reactions. “R-really?” As much as I hated hearing myself trip over words because of another person, I couldn’t hate her for the effect that she had on me.

“Yeah…” she moaned against my skin, sending the reverberations across my body. “I couldn’t let you know though, otherwise you wouldn’t learn… But you learned now, didn’t you?”

Her response was a moan, perhaps louder than I should have released, as I pulled on her hair in an effort to keep her away from my dick. “C’mon, Ransom!” She teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let go for me!”

When I shook my head, a pout appeared on her beautiful lips, and I just had to lean down to kiss it away. “Didn’t you like it?” She questioned when we parted, and I almost laughed, squeezing the back of her neck in a playful gesture.

“Oh, baby… Of course I did.” Biting my lip, I felt like I had to add, had to make her acknowledge it, “You’ve made me very, very happy.” When she leaned her head to the side, I already knew what she was going to ask.

“Then why don’t you want to cum?” That was a question I was dreading to answer, mainly because of course I wanted to cum, I just didn’t want to do it in her mouth. But if I had any chance whatsoever of getting what I truly desired, I’d have to voice it to her.

“Hell yeah!” I reassured her, making her laugh at my enthusiasm. “But not like this. Can… Will you let me touch you?” Time seemed to stand still as I waited for her answer, her eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t tell until she pushed me away and rose to her feet, walking towards her own luggage.

“No.” The word almost physically hurt me, and I deflated, falling down on the bed as I ran a hand over my hair, thinking about what the hell this would mean to us now. But then she was back, standing in front of me, a condom wrapper being waved right before my eyes. “I wanna ride you.”

I never wanted to fuck anyone this badly before. She got rid of her clothes just as eagerly as I took off my shirt, sending it flying somewhere across the room, and when she climbed on my lap, I had already put on the contraceptive. By the way she immediately sank down on my dick, it was clear that she was grateful for my speed.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned against her shoulder, still able to hug her to me despite the small belly separating our chests. The build-up from the last time I almost had her, not to mention from minutes ago when her mouth was still around me had the fire in my stomach burning brightly in no time, as I sat back and watched her fuck herself on me.

“Y-you take me so well.” It came out louder than I intended, and she let go of her breasts to pull me to a kiss in an effort to silence me.

“Shhh…” She whispered, fingers running over my strands as she reminded me, “you have to be quiet, honey.” The nickname took me by surprise, my hands flying up to grip her hips as I took back the control she had so easily usurped from me. “Ransom!”

The way she moaned my name… I could get off just to her voice alone, and that’s what brought me to my release. Somehow, despite barely being aware of anything other than the way my cock throbbed inside of her cunt, I was able to make her cum, and watching her throw her head back and silently scream almost paralyzed me.

“Wait,” she commanded when I tried to lay her down. “Don’t pull out.” I melted against her, falling back on the bed and adjusting us so I could cuddle her to me while abiding to her wishes.

I think she was barely awake when I spoke again, not thinking at all as the words fell from my lips. “Does this mean we’re dating now?” And suddenly, her body wasn’t comfortably relaxed against mine. No, she jolted awake, sitting up and letting my limp cock slip from her while she clutched the sheets over her.

“What? Why?” I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be defensive, and disappointed, and overall hurt from her skepticism, but I knew I couldn’t. Not right now, not when I had a goal in mind and I was so close to it.

“Why not? We’re practically a couple anyway, you even brought me to your parent’s place! Now that we’ve brought sex to the table, what’s the difference between this and an actual relationship?” A long silence followed my words, a silence that felt heavy, suffocating even. Her eyes never left mine as she pondered over what I’d said, and in the quiet of the night, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

“Ransom, I don’t want to be your girlfriend.” I felt my heart breaking in a million pieces at her words, too stupefied to argue anything else. I suddenly was extremely aware of just how naked I was, and how uncomfortably the used condom was now sticking to me.

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t really know you,” she continued, and despite how kind her eyes looked, I still felt like she didn’t understand just how badly she was hurting me. “We’ve never even been on an actual date.”

Surprisingly, that was the sentence that brought hope back to me. Even as she continued, “This was just… a one-time thing,” I didn’t feel deflated anymore, only excited. I knew she wanted me. It was just a matter of showing her that, getting her to admit it. And she had just told me how to do that.

“A one-time thing, huh?” I smirked, pulling her back into my arms, appreciating the surprise that took over her features at the response she certainly didn’t expect to get. “Like the night we made her?”

She chuckled against my chest as my hand fell over her belly. I was certain it was a girl, just as she was certain it was a boy. We had decided not to know, at least not now, and although most of the time the curiosity was eating me alive, I knew I was right.

“Yeah,” the mother of my child whispered against my skin. “Just like that night.” And with her hand covering mine, I slept soundly in a way I couldn’t remember ever doing before. I knew I would do whatever it took to keep her right here, in bed with me. Forever.

#my series #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale writing #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 8)

Summary: The reader and Sam try to find a way to ensure John leaves them alone while Dean has a sweet moment with Tessa...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, bad parenting, past child abuse, manipulation, angst, fluff

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Reader’s POV

“Hey, Mr. Valens,” you said when he came into the reception area about twenty minutes after you’d left the house with Sam.

“Y/N! Everything alright? You’re not in trouble are you?” he asked, giving Sam a look. “You look familiar.”

“I work on opposing counsel for the Druman case,” he said.

“You’re that son of a bitch that got a delay. That was good work,” he said. “A friend of Y/N’s is always welcome although I have to ask what exactly is going on that you’re here after seven?”

“Mr. Valens this is Sam Winchester. His brother Dean is my boyfriend. They knew my dad years back. He might have kept a file on them and I was wondering if you might have it since I know you took over my dad’s stuff?”

“Well I can’t allow you to go looking through the file cabinets and certainly not a lawyer from a rival firm,” he said. You frowned and he smiled. “Sam, you wouldn’t mind waiting out here. I’m sure you understand considering our prep is going on right now.”

“Of course. I’ll hang here,” he said. You walked through a set of doors into some offices, walking down the familiar hall.

“You guys renovated,” you said.

“A few months back. We wanted a little more modern touch. Your dad’s idea actually. Finally got it going,” he said.

“He always had a thousand things going at once it seems,” you said. You walked into his office, Mr. Valens going to a file cabinet in the corner. He dug around in the bottom drawer and pulled out a folder.

“Winchester boys. I’m guessing this is them,” he said. He took a seat at his desk and opened it up, lifting his head after a minute. “Y/N. Why do you want this file?”

“Mr. Valens. Let me have it,” you said. “Please.”

“There’s a reason your father never escalated this to law enforcement,” he said, shutting the file. “What are you involved in?”

“Mr. Valens. You were my dad’s partner and best friend and Tessa and I haven’t heard from you since two weeks after the funeral. You helped me get access to our trust but you left. We needed help. I needed help. You’re a lawyer. You could have made life so much easier. But you wouldn’t pick up the phone. The least you can do is give me that file.”

“You weren’t a child when they died, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t mean I wasn’t devastated. It doesn’t mean I was ready to change my whole life to become a mom to my sister, my very hurt baby sister. I just needed a little bit of help with paperwork and you couldn’t even do that for your best friend’s kids. I want that file, Mr. Valens.”

“You should stay away from those boys,” he said, handing it over to you.

“Why?”

“Their father is an ex-cop. Why do you think your father never escalated it? He needed hard evidence to make that kind of accusation,” he said.

“Can you help them?”

“Y/N, why are you digging around in the past.”

“He came to our house and hurt Dean tonight.” He shut his eyes and ran his hand over his face. “I’m tired of people I care about getting hurt. Is there anything we can do to get them to leave us alone?”

“I’m sorry but unless he does something and you report it, I can’t do anything without hard evidence.”

“I have a recording of him beating up Dean.”

“He could very easily walk on that charge. My suggestion would be to get you and Tessa out of that house and away from those two for good.”

“You’re a dick,” you said as you rolled your eyes. You started to leave and went past a conference room, wide eyed when you saw John Winchester walking out with another lawyer. “What are you doing here?”

“None of your business,” he said. Mr. Valens cleared his throat and pulled you back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“He’s right next door and you don’t care to mention that?”

“He’s a client for another lawyer.”

“No, I was stupid to come here was all. You don’t care about anyone or anything except money. You’ll work with a guy like that and let him keep hurting his kids as long as you get paid. I’m glad my father didn’t have to see you for who you really are.”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” he said, staring you down. “I said he is a client. Plenty of people need lawyers, including bad ones. I did not say I knew about his past with his sons. I do not condone that and that is exactly the kind of person I enjoy putting in prison. As a lawyer, I’m telling you that you either need very, very hard evidence of something he can’t get out of or you need to not antagonize him and hope he stays away. As someone who has watched you grow up, get you and your sister away from those Winchester boys. You do not know what he will do and that is dangerous.”

“Dean’s in danger. Sam’s in danger. Tessa and I aren’t leaving them.”

“You need to think of your sister, not your boyfriend.”

“She loves them like they’re her big brothers. She is happy, the happiest I’ve seen her since the accident. We’re not walking away from our family. We’ll figure this out ourselves.”

You went to leave when he caught your arm.

“I’ll do some digging. He’s no longer a cop but if he did something dirty, it might be enough.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, Y/N.”

You left and walked down the hall, John waiting by the doors out to the lobby.

“You Sammy’s girlfriend?” he asked.

“Dean’s,” you said.

“Your boyfriend going to keep up our arrangement?”

“Why don’t you just leave them alone,” you said.

“I do.”

“Tell that to Dean’s face.”

“He understands that the arrangement-”

“You got nothing on him and we all know it. We will let the past stay in the past as long as you never come near them again. I’m friends with the senior partner here so if you want to try something, I have a very good lawyer waiting in the wings.”

“To tell you the truth,” he said, leaning down to your ear. “It was never about the money. Sure it was nice but I mean he’s so pathetic he never even realized there was no proof. That’s what I get for letting him spend all that time at his uncle’s place. You do realize you’re dating a dumbass don’t you?”

“If it’s not about the money then why did you go to our house?”

“You saw the look on his face,” he smirked. “Fancy ass doctor is nothing more than a little bitch that-”

“Fuck you,” you said, slapping him in the face. You went to leave when you felt a shove from behind. You turned and glared, catching Mr. Valens coming down the hall.

“What the fuck is going on here?” said Mr. Valens.

“She tripped,” said John.

“Oh well now you’re officially on the top of my shit list,” he said, walking over and getting in John’s face.

“Exciting,” said John. “I bet that’ll work out well.”

“Y/N, leave,” he said. You ducked out the door, Sam sprawled out on the couch.

“How’d it-”

“Let’s go. Now,” you said, both of you turning when you heard the doors open.

“Sammy,” said John, Sam swallowing as he stood up. John glanced over at you and smirked. “You know Dean’s been paying me for years to-”

“Go fuck yourself. With a cactus,” said Sam. John smiled and cocked his head.

“You Sam, you always had that fight in you Dean didn’t. I didn’t have to toughen you up. It was just there already. I’m just sorry to have to be the one to tell you that Dean...he doesn’t really love you. He only took you because he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. I mean he abandoned you. You remember when you called us to help you out cause Dean was too busy partying at school? You remember who took care of you?”

“Sam. He’s just trying to fuck with you.”

“Dean’s human. He’s allowed to have fun and I called you as a last resort. I would not do it again,” said Sam.

“Funny. I don’t recall ever once laying a hand on you. I mean did you ever see me ever put a hand on Dean?”

“You were such a dick. Just because I didn’t see it doesn’t-”

“You know he got bullied right? Blamed me for that. Blamed us for all of his little problems. Then he took you. I can’t forgive him for that. But you had no choice and who knows what lies he’s been filling your head with for years.”

“Sam.”

“And this one. Dean her knight in shining armor? She’s just using him and you know it. For all you know she did that to him. Go back to your old city Sammy. Get out from under his thumb. It’s what’d I’d do.”

He left the building and you put your hands on your hips, Sam giving you a glance.

“Do not look at me like that,” you said. “I watched him beat up your brother tonight.”

“You did almost hit that yoga woman.”

“Because she hurt Dean,” you said quietly. “Your dad literally just shoved me in there. He knows he’s got nothing left except getting you to hurt Dean too. He’s so controlling Sam. That’s all he wants to do is control the two of you and making you fight means he wins.”

“Dean gives you everything,” said Sam.

“I love him.” He seemed to stop whatever he was about to say and you looked down. “And I love you too and I didn’t want to love anyone ever again so that’s a really big deal for me. He makes me happy Sam. I’d never hurt him. He’s my best friend. He’s your best friend too and he has gone to hell and back for you since he was a child. Please don’t listen to John. Believe your brother.”

“Dean used to say to me that he got wailed on but I got the manipulation worse. I think he had that pretty spot on,” said Sam, closing his eyes. “You love Dean?”

“I haven’t exactly told him yet,” you said with a shrug.

“Pretty sure the dork knows,” said Sam. “Just like you do.”

“I hope so. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s head home.”

“Do you believe him?” you asked.

“You know every morning, every morning, you make Dean a cup of coffee and you either put it in his thermos or a cup for him. Every morning you do that.”

“So?”

“You wash out his thermos every night because you know it’s his favorite. On the weekend you put it in his blue mug and have it ready for him along with a cheese danish that you picked up the morning before on the way to work. That’s just one thing. You care about him and he lets you take care of him and Dean doesn’t do that. I’ll always pick my real family over my parents any day. I’m never gonna turn my back on my brother.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“Did you make any headway, on anything?”

“The partner is gonna look into him but hopefully he just stays away from now on knowing he’s got nothing left to hold over you guys.”

“I hope so too.”

Dean’s POV

“Tessa, I’m fine,” said Dean, wincing as she put a fresh cold ice pack on his ribs.

“I guess it’s true. Doctors are the worst patients,” she said. She hopped up when the doorbell rang and Dean sat up. “It’s just the delivery guy.”

“Tessa I can-” said Dean before he ran off. Dean sighed, Tessa coming back a few minutes later with some styrofoam containers. “You need to be more careful.”

“You think your dad is gonna punch me? A high school girl?” she said.

“I don’t like testing that theory.” Dean scooted back against the headboard, Tessa handing him some utensils and one of the containers. She sat on the other side with hers, watching the TV and eating up some pieces of chicken. “Tessa.”

“Hm?” she hummed.

“If you want to go over to Jack’s that’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date.”

“I think my sister put me in charge of you. Jack’s cool with it. We’ll hang out tomorrow,” she said, eating more of her food.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not the one that got punched in the face.”

“Still. Things can be triggering,” he said.

“I don’t get why you didn’t hit back I guess. I would have.”

“I’ve spent most of my life afraid of my dad. I still am a bit unfortunately.”

“Well you’re obviously not like him. At all,” she said. Dean smiled and started to eat, Toast licking his toes every so often. “He knows you’re hurt. He does that when he wants you to feel better.”

“Animals are very intuitive like that,” said Dean. It was quiet for a few minutes as they ate, Tessa shifting in her spot eventually.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, mouthful of macaroni.

“Do you love my sister?” she asked. Dean swallowed and set his food down in his lap, smiling at it.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Why not tell her then?”

“I think she knows just like I think I know that she loves me. I think we’ve both been through so much already that it’s not always in the words how to say you love someone. Actions, those are as important, more important in a way. Your sister is kind and good to me in a way I never thought I’d have. I love her very, very much. I love you too.”

“She smiles again,” said Tessa. “She’s a better person around you.”

“She was always a good person. She just needed some else to lean on for a moment. That’s what a relationship is. It’s why she’s pissed as hell right now and standing up to someone I couldn’t.”

“I know you took Sam away from your parents. That was badass too,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“Are you gonna marry her?” she asked.

“Also a maybe.”

“Do you want to?”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“Yeah. Are you asking like my permission or something?”

“Well, I’d still ask no matter what you say but I’d like to think you’d be alright with it.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m not asking right now...but maybe hypothetically I will ask in the future.”

“Oh,” she said with a nod. “I got you. When you’re done being shy be sure to let me know.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” asked Dean with a laugh.

“It’s one of my best qualities,” she said.

“Sure it is,” he said as he reached over and ruffled her hair.

“Dean?” she asked when he picked up his food again. “I know she’d say yes, whenever you do decide to do it.”

“I said maybe I recall.”

“Maybe it’s not always in the words but the actions,” she said, smirking at him.

“Got me there,” he said. “Let’s not tell Y/N about this though. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Reader’s POV

Three Days Later

“Hey, Dean,” you said as he stirred awake beside you. He smiled and snuggled into your side, covers tucked up under his chin. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah. Better,” he said. You carded your fingers through his hair and he slowly opened his eyes, sleepily watching you. “I don’t think he’ll try anything. It’s been a few days and it’s been quiet.”

“Me either. Like Sam said, he’s an asshole but he’s not nuts,” you said.

“No, he’s not. But I do wonder sometimes...about my mom.”

“You don’t talk about her much,” you said. You started twirling short strands and he started to wake up more but didn’t move around.

“I just...I don’t know if he broke her down after years and that’s why she is the way she is or if she genuinely doesn’t like us,” said Dean. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for her or not.”

“Well...I think there’s a difference between her failing to protect you and her actively hurting you. Only you and Sam would know what really happened there.”

“Going off of that logic she’s not a good person,” said Dean. “Our grandpa wasn’t so it makes sense in a way. I don’t understand why they hated Sam and me so much though.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could ever not want you either.” He smiled and you bent down, kissing his cheek and then his lips, Dean humming when you moved back.

“Well, I got more than enough people that want me in my life now,” he said. He reached up and kissed you as you sunk back down in bed. He put his hand on the back of your neck and you grabbed his hip, Dean smirking beside you. He was starting to breath a little harder, pants filling the air, when you heard the door creak open.

“Guess who made...seriously,” said Tessa. You both turned and saw her with a tray and some food on top.

“Your sister’s hot, Tessa,” chuckled Dean. You smacked his chest lightly as you both sat up, Tessa setting the tray down on the end of the bed.

“Might want to knock from now on before you get a view of something mentally scaring,” you said.

“I’ll remember that,” she said. She turned to go when Dean tsked her. “Guys. Have morning sex or whatever you were doing.”

“A little kissing never hurt anyone,” you said, picking up a cinnamon roll from the plate. “This looks yummy.”

“What’s the occasion, Tess?” asked Dean, grabbing one himself without a wince, his ribs looking a lot better.

“I figured I could make breakfast,” she shrugged.

“As a doctor, this isn’t the healthiest thing I’d consider for breakfast. As myself, excellent choice,” said Dean. She started to go and he chuckled. “Tessa. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, Toast trotting in and hopping up on the bed. “No Toast. Your food’s downstairs.”

“While I got you girls both here, I was wondering what you guys would like to do for Christmas?” he asked. “It’s only a little over a week away.”

“Oh,” she said before she looked at you. Dean raised an eyebrow and you shrugged.

“Well don’t everyone be too over excited,” he said with a chuckle. “Come on, anything in the world, what do you guys want to do?”

“Y/N not have to work,” mumbled Tessa.

“I know for a fact she won’t. I also know for a fact that our offices will be closed aside from the doctor that always works that week anyways. All of our lab work goes out that week so a certain someone is going to have her first week off in a few years,” said Dean.

“Wait I get the whole week off?” you asked.

“Yup. We all do and it doesn’t count against vacation. It’s something that’s always been done as a treat to the employees. So. Everybody’s got the week off, even Sammy. I say us and Toast all go do something really fun.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well...would you guys be interested in going up north a bit to South Dakota? The past few years our friends all chip in to rent a big house and we celebrate up there. There’s snowboarding, skiing, a resort spa nearby. What do you guys think?”

“Can we afford that?” Tessa asked you.

“Yes we can and I think it sounds great,” you said. “You guys wanna go?”

“We can even get Toast a little jacket so he doesn’t get cold,” said Dean. “Jack will be there…”

“Shut up,” she said, pushing on his shoulder. “It sounds alright.”

“Just alright?” he teased. She rolled her eyes and got up, spinning back around and giving him a hug.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

“I was starting to hate Christmas was all,” she said. He chuckled and reached over to his nightstand, taking out his wallet. He took out a few hundred and handed it over. “Uh, what’s this for?”

“Why don’t you go get yourself some winter boots and snowpants. My treat.”

“Dean.”

“You don’t have any and you need it for the trip. Besides, Y/N’s going with you after we finish making out,” he said with a wink.

“You’re so gross,” she said. She hugged him again and he plopped back in bed, stretching out wide as she left.

“Dean. I know what you got her for Christmas,” you said. “You can’t give her money all the time.”

“Boots and pants and lunch for the both of you is gonna be a few hundred. Have a girls day. I have my own shopping to do for you anyways,” he said as you lay back.

“Dean I have a good job now. I can pay for those things.”

“Y/N. I make an assload. A day of you two going and having fun like sisters do is more than worth two hundred dollars to me,” he said. “This guy did it for me and Sam once. I’m actually just paying it back so really you can’t say no.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “But after we makeout.”

“Oh you’re not getting out of this bed without that happening,” he chuckled.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

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