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maggiedanikka · 1 year

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Let Me Go (Epilogue)

Pairing: Hangman x f!reader, Rooster x f!reader

Warnings: none, teenagers being teenagers, ANGST (but you knew that), bittersweet ending

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Reader is married and shares a child with Hangman, Life and circumstance drives reader into Rooster’s arms, but Hangman isn’t giving up that easily

A/N: Here it is the epilogue of Let Me Go. I can't believe this story that I thought of during my commute to work last summer, a story that I didn't anyone but me would care about is now at its official end. Even if it did take almost a year, and several hiatuses to get here. I will admit this past year has been some of the hardest of my life, with so many changes and obstacles I've gone through. But this story, this community has always been a safe space for me to run to. I'm sure that not everyone will be happy with how I chose to end this story, but this past year has taught me to trust my instincts as a writer and I will not please everyone, but I hope you understand why I went with what I did. I don't know if you all know this but Let Me Go is actually the first full-length multi-part series I've ever created, and I just wanted to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for taking this journey with me. Whether you've been here from the beginning, if you're a casual reader, someone who has waited months for me to update, to the people who have left me kind and supportive comments, and even to those who weren't necessarily the kindest. Thank you. Enough with all of that, without further ado, Let Me Go the final FINAL part.

Declan Belmont had Astrid pressed against the brick wall at the back of their high school. They definitely should not have been skipping 4th period, but the feeling of how soft her lips against his and the sounds of her whimpers as he grabbed the skin of her hips, definitely made him forget about the important test review they were currently missing.

“Dec, slow down.” She pulled herself away from him, trying to even her breath.

“We are not hooking up next to the soccer field.” She told him with a raised eyebrow.

He let out an exaggerated groan before turning them both around until Declan’s back was the one against the wall.

“Fine, fair enough” He chuckled as he gave his girlfriend a small peck on the lips.

“I can’t help it, you look so good today.” He sighed pressing his face into her collarbone breathing in her scent.

“I can’t keep my hands off of you.” He mumbled into her chest.

Astrid let out a giggle, pulling his face away from her.

“You say that everyday.”

“And it’s true!” He exclaimed

“Every. Single. Day” He pecked her lips in between every word.

“You’re such a dork.”

“YOUR dork.”

“Ew you sound just like my dad.” She said, feigning a disgusted face.

“Speaking of your dad, when are you going to introduce me to your family?” Declan asks her, his once joking demeanor fading to nervousness.

Astrid backed away from his touch, putting distance between them.

“Dec..”

“Come on Atty! We’ve been official for almost 6 months! You’ve met my mom, my brother, even my stupid cousin.”

“Your cousin doesn’t count, we have trig together.” You pointed out.

“Okay fine, but besides the point, you’ve met them!”

“Are you ashamed of me?” He asked solemnly

“No! That’s not it Dec! My family is just…” Astrid stops to piece together her thoughts.

“They’re absolutely insane!”

“My aunts and uncles are so loud ALL THE TIME. It’s basically impossible to get ANY work done whenever they’re around.”

“Don’t get me started on how nosey my Uncle Mickey gets. Like I think that man forgets that he’s nearing 50 and does not need to know why Beca from fourth grade and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“Or how my Aunt Nat and Uncle Bob, LOVE to torture my dad and the sweet little imbecile he is always takes the bait.”

Astrid didn’t notice how intense her tirade was until she felt her face heating up and Declan staring at her in amusement.

“Sorry..” she told him embarrassed at her outburst.

“You should really breathe in between monologues, you were turning blue babe.”

“See what I mean? They make me CRAZY, and I didn’t want you to see that side of me quite yet.” Astrid admitted.

Declan chuckled before approaching Astrid, wrapping his arms around her waist, and using a finger to have her look up at him.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to like your crazy.” Declan kisses the pout off of Astrid’s face.

“And I really like you, and I don’t see anything short of you committing murder, changing that.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“I’ll even get it notarized.”

“Lucky for you, my family’s monthly barbeque is happening tomorrow, and I can maybeee get you an invitation.”

“Aw you’d do that for me babe?”

“I guess, and I do happen to know the host of the party.”

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Declan felt a knot form in his stomach as he stood outside Astrid's house, trying to muster the courage to knock on the door. He knew he shouldn't be nervous, but he couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that was creeping up on him. What if her family didn't like him? What if he did something embarrassing? What if he accidentally insulted someone?

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Technically this was his idea, and Astrid had continually warned him about her family’s many quirks but assured him that they did have good hearts. But she didn’t elaborate further. Declan now mentally kicked himself for not asking more questions about them, now he was going into this meeting blind with no preparation or any talking points.

“Fucking Amateur Hour Declan!” He muttered to himself, there’s no going back and changing the past now. He couldn’t stand on the front porch forever.

Finally, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. He could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation coming from inside the house, and his nerves intensified. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open and he was greeted by an older man, a silver fox with a broad chest wearing a leather military flight jacket. He wasn’t very tall but it didn’t make him any less terrifying.

“So you’re the boy our little Astrid has been seeing.” He greeted Declan with a grin

The man had a warm smile and Declan felt himself release the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Declan held out a hand towards the older man to shake.

“No need for all of that son, welcome to the party!”

The older man pulled Declan into a hug, clapping him on the back and dragging him into the house.

“Don’t scare him off Pete, he just got here!” A beautiful older woman with brown shoulder length hair and kind eyes laughed at the man.

“Sorry about him Declan, he’s just excited.”

“I’m Penny, and this is Pete.”

“Call me Mav, son.” He smiled at Declan.

They led him to the back of the house towards the glass doors with a deck where he had a a clear view into the backyard.

He saw a handful of men and women standing around the large yard. They held themselves in a way that made it obvious that they were military despite being out of uniform.

Declan felt his previous nervousness return, feeling his throat get dry. He placed his hand on the door to open it, when he realized that he never properly greeted Astrid’s parents.

“I am so sorry, I was so nervous that I forgot my manners. It’s so nice to finally meet you Mr. and Mrs Seresin.” Declan beamed at the older couple.

“Astrid is an amazing girl and its an honor to meet the people that raised her.”

Penny and Mav stared at Declan in confusion before bursting into laughter.

Declan stood confused at the sudden outburst.

After they settled down, Mav clapped a hand on Declan’s shoulder.

“You flatter us son. But we’re not Astrid’s parents.”

“I am Atty’s godmother, and Mav here is her grandpa.”

“Hey! You say that like I’m old!” Mav pouted.

“If I’m her grandpa that makes you her grandma.” He pointed out.

“No way old man, I am perfectly happy being Auntie Penny.”

“Yeah Yeah.” Mav wrapped an arm around Penny’s waist giving her a kiss on the temple.

Declan felt slightly awkward watching this interaction, he wasn’t exactly used to PDA from adult couples, mostly due to his own family history of divorce. But most of it stemmed from the embarassment of wrongly assuming his girfriend’s parentage.

“You can relax son, we definitely helped her parents with babysitting and carpool, but we can’t take credit for the woman she’s become.” Mav explained.

“And don’t worry about us, if Atty likes you, then we like you.”

“And that goes for all those other meatheads out in the backyard.” Penny reassured him.

Declan nodded as the couple led him to the outside.

“Look whos here!” Mav announced to the other attendants of the barbeque.

The group waved and roared with excitement, greeting Declan from his vantage point on the deck.

“Hey Dec!” His girlfriend greeted him.

Declan momentarily forgot his troubles as he took in his girlfriend’s appearance. She looked like sunshine in her frilly yellow sundress, her head adorned with a puffy white headband, her smile beaming as she walked towards Declan’s position on the deck.

“You’ll be okay son, we all got your back. The only person here you need to impress is that guy.” Mav pointed at a younger man, taller and somehow more menacing looking, manning the grill.

Declan took a hard gulp as Astrid finally approached him, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the stairs of the deck towards a gathering of 3.

“Dec, This is my Auntie Nat, Uncle Bob, and Uncle Mickey.”

“Guys, this is Declan Belmont, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you Declan.” The woman greeted him.

The shorter man with wire framed glasses simply smiled and nodded at Declan in greeting.

The final man, seemed to be of hispanic descent with short buzzed hair.

He surprised Declan by pulling him into a hug.

“Its nice to finally put a face to a name!” Uncle Mickey beamed at Declan.

“We all know how picky our Atty can get, so you must be something special.”

Uncle Mickey pulled back on hug before throwing an arm around Declan’s shoulders and pulled him aside from the group and whispering.

“ I want to know everything, do you know what you want to do after graduation? Anything you’re thinking of studying? How did you and Astrid meet? Do you love her?”

“Uncle Mickey!”

“Fanboy!”

The other members of the group obviously heard everything from the forced huddle despite Mickey’s attempt at whispering.

“We’ll reconvene later.” He gave a final whisper before turning back around to the rest of the group.

Declan found purchase by Astrid’s side one again wrapping an arm around her wasit.

“Oh no you won’t Uncle Mickey.” Astrid glared at Fanboy.

“Yeah leave the damn boy alone.” Phoenix added.

Bob stood silently in the middle amusement clear on his face, holding in his laughter.

“But mija, How am I supposed to find out?”

“Fanboy, the boy has been here less than 5 minutes and you’re already giving him the third degree.” Phoenix rolled her eyes at her frend.

“I just wanna get to know him better, see why Atty likes him so much.”

“And don’t act like I’m the only one who’s curious” Fanboy pointed at his friends.

“You know what, you’re right!” Bob finally spoke out.

“I do wanna know.”

Natasha stared at her friends in disbelief, before her face released its scowl in a look of agreement with the two men. Crossing the middle and standing by the two male daggers.

“Traitor!” Astrid frowned at her aunt.

“Sorry kiddo, Fanboy’s got a point”

Astrid’s face turned red in embarrassment.

“Y’all promised to be cool.” Astrid pouted.

The three aviators shot her an apologetic look with a shrug.

Declan felt so much warmth and joy from watching his girlfriend interact with her family, despite their antics they all clearly deeply for one another. Almost made him forget about the menacing man across the yard watching his every move. Especially at his hand placement.

He quickly took his hand off of Astrid’s waist. Which took her by surprise, and made her think that he was horrified at her crazy family.

“I am so sorry about them Dec. I asked them to be normal ” Astrid turned to him with pleading eyes.

Declan was confused at her uneasiness

“Don’t be! I think they’re sweet.” He replied joyfully.

“And I will be happy to answer any and all questions you all ask me.” Declan announced to the three before distractedly looking off to the distance back to the man by the grill.

“Then why did you..?” Astrid began to ask but trailed off as she followed her boyfriend’s line of sight, her aunt and uncles doing the same.

“Ahh, the big man.” Mickey deduced.

“Him? A Big Man?”

“Are we looking at the same person right now?” Phoenix raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“I mean yeah he’s not a big man to us, but imagine how Declan feels right now.”

“Guys, you’re not making it any better.” Astrid sighed.

“Don’t worry about him, he only looks like a grizzly bear, in actuality he is a big soft teddy bear.” Phoenix reassured the boy.

Declan was still frozen in his place, feeling smaller he’s ever felt in his life.

“He’s gotta meet him at some point kid, go rip the bandaid off.” Phoenix reminded her niece.

“You’re probably right Aunt Nat.” Astrid sighed.

“Come on Dec, lets go.” Astrid grabbed Declan’s hand and dragged him towards the grill.

“Dad!” Astrid exclaimed as walked towards the aviator, with Declan in tow.

“This is my boyfriend Declan.”

Declan felt frozen in place, never feeling quite as intimidated as he had in this exact moment. He outstretched a hand, a gulp trapped in his throat. The older man gave his hand a firm shake, his grip tightening and holding Declan’s in a steel grip, staring him down.

“Dad, stop it.” Astrid chastised the man after several agonizing seconds that felt like hours to Declan.

“But its so funny.”

The man released his grip and his entire demeanor changed in that exact moment, like a light switch being flipped. The stoic look on his face changed to a dopey grin.

“You should’ve seen your face! You look like you’re gonna pee your pants!” The older man chuckled.

Declan laughed awkwardly alongside the aviator.

“I’m sorry Dec, my dad thinks he’s funny.”

“You used to think I was funny.” Astrid’s dad pouted.

“Yeah when I was 4”

“When I also used to think mac and cheese and mashed potatoes mixed together was the greatest food to exist.”

“But Atty…you still think that.” Declan muttered.

The two men maintained eye contact with one another, their grins slowly getting larger before bursting into laughter.

Astrid stood still in her spot, a frown planted on her face.

“Come on babe, just joking around with your dad.”

“I think I liked you better when you were afraid of everyone.” She glared at her boyfriend.

“Sir, has she always been this intense?”

“Yup, even when she was a little girl, terrifying minimum wage teenage face painters who merely suggested to paint her as a butterfly, insisting yoshi was cooler.”

“Please tell me you have a picture sir.”

“Come on.. You know I do.” Both men laughing with one another once again.

“I can’t believe you two are ganging up on me!” Astrid exclaimed.

“And I still stand with that previous claim, Yoshi is cooler than a butterfly.”

“You’re just further proving our point babe.” Declan smiled, reaching for Astrid’s hand once again, now feeling more comfortable.

She dropped his hand in a huff, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m not a big fan of whatever.”

“This.” waving a finger between the two men

“Is”

“Come on Little Chick! I thought you wanted me to get along with your boyfriend.” The mustached man pointed out.

“Well the two of you can get along all you want in this corner, I’m going to talk to Uncle Javy and Uncle Reuben. At least they’re nice to me.” Astrid pouted as she walked away from Rooster and Declan.

Declan had the biggest smile plastered on his face watching his girlfriend walk away.

“She’s something isn’t she?” Rooster referred to Astrid’s retreating figure.

“That she is.”

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

Declan was honestly having a really nice time. He couldn’t remember the last time that he was at an event with extended family. It was just him, his mom, and his brother (sometimes his aunt and cousin) for as long as he could remember. Large in part due to the divorce and his dad constantly traveling for work. So it meant a lot to him that Astrid’s family welcomed him with open arms.

He had spent the better part of the hour asking Astrid’s family members funny embarrassing stories from her childhood, and he also got to meet Astrid’ Uncle Javy and Uncle Reuben, with a few more attendees joining.

Declan was currently helping Astrid’s dad with the grill, with Mav often coming around to nitpick the younger men’s work. And Rooster telling him to “fuck off, old man”, with Astrid and Penny laughing at their antics.

What confused Declan was the lack of appearance from Astrid’s mom. Astrid had never mentioned having a single father so Declan knew that she probably had a mom.

He was about to open his mouth to ask when he was interrupted by the sound of the backyard fence opening and his girlfriend’s booming voice.

“Daddy!”

Daddy? Wasn’t Declan already standing next to her dad?

An older blonde man dressed in service khakis had arms wide open for Astrid as she ran towards him nearly knocking him over.

“Bagman!” Astrid’s (other?) dad exclaimed.

The other attendees of the party approached the man.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Phoenix smirked

“We thought you’d be out in the Pacific for a few more weeks.” Payback commented.

“Well y’all know me, I get shit done.”

“Plus, I missed little Pixie over here.” He answered hugging his daughter once more.

How did Declan not know that his girlfriend had two dads? How heteronormative for him to assume that his girlfriend had a typical nuclear family? Then again she’s never mentioned too much of her family.

The aviators threw greetings and questions at Hangman, with the man in question trying his best to answer them all.

Declan stood at the edge of the crowd, bewildered at the new addition. Jake noticed the unfamiliar boy amongst the group.

He parted the group stopping all conversation and made eye contact with Declan.

“Now, whos this?” Jake asked walking towards the boy.

“Oh, daddy this is Declan. My boyfriend.” Astrid smiled introducing him.

“Boyfriend already?” Jake turned to Bradley.

“I thought we had more time.”

“Thats exactly what I was thinking, I was not ready.” Bradley clapped jake on the shoulder.

“I am 16. I am more than ready. You should be too” Astrid rolled her eyes at the two men.

“As long as you’re not ready for other things.” Bradley raised an eyebrow at the girl while Jake gave Declan a death glare.

Astrid’s cheeks turned bright red.

“Dad, Daddy, you’re embarassing me!” She was mortified at their behavior.

“We just wanna make sure this boy is not gonna pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with.” Jake explained.

“I would never sirs!” Declan interjected.

“I can vouch for him Hangman, hes a good kid.” Bradley responded.

“I’m going inside, this is mortifying.” Astrid ran into the house.

“Do you need me to-?” Decaln started to follow behind her before being stopped by Jake.

“She’ll be fine son, you stay right here.”

“ Rooster might’ve vouched for you but I’m still gonna take a peek under your hood. Make my own conclusion.” Jake led Declan to the outdoor seating beside the deck stairs.

“So Declan right? You got a last name?” Jake asked as they both sat down.

“Belmont sir.”

“Belmont? As in Vice Admiral Richard Belmont?” He inquired.

“Yes sir, he’s my father.”

“I know your dad, he works right under me, good man, dedicated to the work, dedicated to his country.”

“He works under you?”

The pieces finally connected in Declan’s brain. Astrid Seresin. Seresin. Commander of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Jacob Seresin.

How did not put that together before?

Declan stood up abruptly, assuming a salute stance.

“I’m sorry to be disrespectful sir, I did not know you were THE Admiral Seresin.”

“My father taught me better than that.”

“At ease son, no need for all of that.” Admiral Seresin chuckled

Declan dropped the salute but still remained standing in stance.

“Did Astrid not tell you?”

“No sir, we did not speak too much about our families.”

“Well if you’re really afraid of being disrespectful, kid, you gotta know that all of these people are decorated officers.”

“Them right there are Captains Avalone, Lennox, Lee, and Bassett.” He said pointing to the men and woman that Astrid introduced as Uncles Billy, Brig, Logan, and Auntie Callie.

“Maverick was also captain before he retired.”

“Over there are Rear Admirals Floyd, Garcia, Finch, and Machado.”

Uncle Bob, Uncle Mickey, Uncle Reuben and Uncle Javy.

“Finally, Old Rooster and Phoenix over there. Vice Admiral Trace, and Admiral Bradshaw.”

“Holy Shit.” Declan gulped.

“So you better treat our Astrid right, if you’re smart you can forsee how people with our experience can ruin your life, in more ways than one.” Admiral Seresin warned.

“Understood sir.”

Declan shifted in his spot, desperate to change the subject from the possible harm that would befall him if he ever made the mistake of hurting his girlfriend.

“So my father works under you, sir? Last I spoke to him he was stationed to the Pacific.”

“Yes, that’s where I just returned from. Your dad is still out there though.”

“Yeah I figured, I reckon he would’ve called by now.” Declan tried to hide his disappointment.

Jake read him easily however. He quickly remembered his absence from his daughter’s life earlier in her childhood. Immediately feeling sorry for the boy, he motioned for him to sit once again

“I get it, it's hard, I wasn’t around much for Astrid’s childhood, I was too focused on getting to.. Well here.”

“Was it worth it sir?”

“Not sure I can answer that, I missed a lot, but I was lucky enough to have someone who understood my ambitions.”

“I don’t know how y’all did it sir, especially since you being the Commander of the Pacific fleet and Atty’s other dad also being an Admiral.”

“And especially with the stigma you two had to face with the Navy.”

“It was a little weird and difficult at first. But Astrid made it worth it. And Bradshaw has been a big help.”

“Well you two raised an amazing daughter. How long have you been together?” Declan inquired, knowing about the rampant homophobia that still unfortunately plagued the military branch.

But seeing how well respected and high in rank the two men were he knew that couldn’t have been easy, but now they’re both in positions where no one would dare to criticize them.

“How long have we..? Wait. Do you think me and Bradshaw are..” Admiral Seresin broke out into boisterous laughter.

“Hey Rooster! Get over here!” Declan looked at the older man in confusion as the second Admiral made his way to the duo.

“What’s up Bagman?” Rooster responded as he halted his jog.

“Come and give me some sugar.” Jake chuckled as he brought Bradley into a tight embrace planting a wet kiss on his cheek.

Declan felt his face heat up at the PDA presented in front of him by his girlfriend’s fathers.

Bradley stumbled back after Jake released his hold, a look of amusement on his face.

Hangman threw an arm around the other aviator.

“Not that I’m complaining, but not sure how my wife is gonna feel about you planting one on me Bagman,”

Rooster laughed.

Wife? Now Declan was even more confused than before. Astrid’s dad has a wife and is also with her other dad? Is the wife okay with this? Is the wife also with Commander Seresin?

Declan felt a migraine coming on from the heavy wheels spinning in his mind trying to piece together his girlfriend’s interesting family dynamic.

“Nicholas Bradshaw! If you don’t stop running right now, you’re not getting any Ice cream!”

Declan’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a woman that looked like a more mature, not necessarily older version of his girlfriend making her way down the deck, running after a little boy that looked like a miniature version of Admiral Bradshaw.

Is this the wife? She was very beautiful. Admiral Bradshaw is a lucky man.

Declan had so many questions. The boy he gathered was Astrid’s little brother. And then the woman , possibly her mom??? Declan just became more confused with every passing minute.

Both Admirals stared at the woman in adoration as she chased after the boy.

“But Momma, Uncle Jakey is here!” The boy ran into Admiral Seresin’s arms who picked him up with a chuckle.

“No love for your dad buddy?” Rooster feigned hurt.

“Uncle Jakey. Toy please.”

“Ouch! Little man, and here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Jake answered also feigning hurt.

“Sweets! Come and meet Pixie’s boyfriend.”

“Sorry for messing with you Dec, you just made it too easy.”

“Now who’s this?” The woman approached their chattering.

She had kind eyes and a beautiful smile. She was dressed in a sundress that almost mimicked the one his girlfriend was wearing except in an emerald color.

“Declan, Ma’am nice to meet you.” Declan nervously held out hand to the woman who shook it gently.

“I’m Astrid’s mom, y/n. And you must be the boyfriend we’ve hardly heard anything about.”

That one annoying song that his sister used to sing non-stop, Stacy’s Mom he thinks it’s called, never made more sense to him than at that moment.

Don’t get him wrong, Declan loved Astrid, more than anything. But in some kind of alternate universe where they weren’t together and he didn’t know her and her entire family. He would proudly declare her a MILF, but at risk of pissing off his girlfriend, her grandpa, godmother, her large array of uncles and aunts, and her dads who also happened to be top ranking navy officers, he would never admit it to another soul.

“So where have you been hiding?” Astrid’s mom asked jokingly.

“Mom! Dad! Daddy!” Astrid shouted as she exited the house and jogged down to the outdoor furniture.

Astrid slid into the gap between Declan’s arm and torso, laying a hand on his chest.

“Stop giving him the third degree.” She glared at her parents.

“Hey! I was just introducing myself to Declan here since you refused to give your poor mother anything.” Her mom pouted while poking Astrid on the tip of her nose.

Astrid stuck a tongue out at the older woman.

“Yeah okay mom, stop acting like you didn’t grill me about Dec last night.” Pointing a finger at y/n.

“It’s not cute, mother.”

“Your mother happens to be very cute.” Bradley wrapped an arm around the older woman planting a kiss on her forehead.

Jake nodded in quiet agreement, but Declan noticed a glimpse of sadness behind his eyes. He wonders what’s that about.

“Ewww Mom and Dad, can you please not do that in front me and Dec.” Astrid exclaimed, further burying her face into the crook of Declan’s neck.

“How come you two can have PDA and me and your dad can’t?” Her mom responded.

“Because you’re old.”

“Don’t listen to her Sweets, you’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Jake chuckled.

“Atty!” A small voice originating from lower ground whined.

“Oh her buddy!” Astrid kneeled down to her little brother’s height.

“Did you have a good practice?” She asked grabbing Nick’s little body into her lap tickling his neck and making him laugh hysterically.

“I want kiss!.” He shouted through his giggles.

“Anything for you Goosey!” Astrid covered her little brother’s face in kisses.

“Momma too!”

“Oh of course my little goose.” Y/n laughed as she kneeled down to the same level as her children.

“What a lucky little dude.” Bradley smiled.

The two other men chuckled watching the love fest before them.

“Not to interrupt your little family time but since you were distracted Bradley, I took it upon myself to cook the steaks PROPERLY.” Maverick shouted across the backyard.

“Come and get your steaks!”

“Oh sweet, steak grandpa mav style is my favorite.” Astrid exclaimed picking up her little brother and making her way to the grill, Declan close in tow.

“Yay steak!” Nick cheered

“Is it ‘Hurt Dad’s feelings day’, Little Chick?” Bradley groaned as he followed the rest of the group to the food.

Jake hung back watching the sight before him. His daughter, so grown up, so beautiful, smart, and headstrong. Just like her mother.

Jake thought back to Declan’s earlier question. Was it all worth it? Those 4 years where y/n and Astrid away was some of the loneliest of his life. He honestly took that time to take every deployment, work every detachment, and because Y/n needed time to think, he for that time being never felt guilty for his ambition.

.Y/n could never be malicious enough to keep him away from his daughter. She gave him every opportunity to be involved. Of course, he visited his daughter as often as he could. But it definitely was not often enough. His work was all he had, he thought, so he threw himself into it completely. Up to the point where he finally surpassed Rooster.

When those four years were up it was clear where his priorities lied, and in a way he understood what Y/N said before. He was selfish for making her take a back seat to it for so long, when she and their daughter deserved so much more than that.

It honestly didn’t surprise him when Y/N chose Bradshaw in the end, he was there for Y/N and for Astrid when he couldn’t. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. He definitely had some dark years after that. Years where he would go months into his work, not bothering to keep in touch with his ex-wife and daughter.

No one heard from his for an entire year after he caught wind of their wedding and Bradshaw legally adopting his daughter.

All he had was his career, his ambitions, it was the only thing keeping him going. He thought that’s all he needed. It should have been enough. His lifelong longing should it been quenched when he was promoted to Admiral, a full 4 years before Bradshaw. He finally won.

But did he really?

He threw himself into a drunken stupor at the Hard Deck, ‘happily’ celebrating his promotion. Alone. Completely Alone.

But Y/N, sweet and strong Y/N, walked into the bar. And dragged him to his feet pulling him to his senses.

“I gave you space all these years Jake because I thought it was what you needed. I know the news about me and Bradley was not going to bve easy for you so I stayed away, I didn’t want you to think we were rubbing it in your face. I didn’t say anything when you went years making Astrid feel like she didn’t have a father, Bradley stepped in because that is the type of man he is and he loves her. But that deosn’t change the fact that you’re her father, she still looks for you every birthday, checks the news to make sure nothing bad has happened to you, still tears up whenever she sees or hears Pixie Sticks. We may have not worked out Jake, but that doesn’t mean you abandon her.” Jake hadn’t seen so much pain in your eyes since that final night before you left.

“She doesn’t want to see me. You left me.”

“Exactly. I left you Jake. Your daughter didn’t.”

“ And all she wants now is you to show up and apologize for the years you missed and eat the cake she baked for you for your promotion, instead of sitting here wasting away alone”

“She baked me a cake?” Jake asked his eyes filled with tears and hope for the first time in over 7 years.

“Yeah she did. Even wrote “Congrats Daddy” on it with light green frosting to match your eyes.”

You nodded.

“Okay, take me to see Pixie.” He smiled.

That was 5 odd or so years ago. It took a lot of work but through endless groveling, apologies, and carefully curated gifts. Rooster finally forgave him.

Just kidding, Astrid forgave him. Of course she says that there was no forgiving needed to be done in the first place, the young girl knew that her dad had things to work out on his own before he was ready to come home to her. But Hangman knew better and he made sure to make up for the 7 years of missed birthdays, holidays, and just regular Daddy-Daughter time, and as an admiral he had more leeway to pick his schedule and deployments.

Things with Rooster also got better, despite his years of resentment towards the man, he definitely appreciated the care that he gave you and your daughter in his absence (even if he didn’t appreciate the way it begun). After a couple years of awkwardness where the two men couldn’t be left alone in a room together, they found a mutual respect and admiration for both of their work and dedication to the Navy.

The two were definitely more alike than they realized, it just took an intense rivalry, a couple of punches thrown, a few black eyes, a pair of bruised jaws, a divorce, a wedding and adoption, and a couple of years of close proximity to unlock.

From there bloomed a friendship that can’t be described by anything other than a total “bromance”.

As he stood in the yard contemplating his journey to that moment, he was pulled out of his thoughts by your hand caressing his cheek.

“How you doing Zuko?” You smiled at him with bright eyes.

“I’m doing good Sweets.”

“Just thinking about how fast time has passed.” He explained.

“It has been a wild ride hasn’t it?” You responded, dropping your hand, placing it back to your side.

Jake felt cold from the removal of your hand, his body still searching for your warth even after all these years. He tried to hide his disappointment from his face but you knew him better than that.

“You know I will always love you, right Jake?” You smiled at him sympathetically.

“We’ve been through so much together, and even though it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, I will be eternally grateful to you.”

“You gave me her.” Your eyes twinkled looking at Astrid.

“And you know I will never get over you right?” Jake responded, his voice thick with melancholy.

“Maybe…” You began.

“But I hope someday you will. Our love, our connection was so filled with fight and fire, and I loved it… I loved you. But after all of that, we were just left with ashes.” You looked at him, your smile bittersweet.

“You taught me how to love Jake, and loving you, prepared me to love him.” You gestured to Bradshaw.

“To love them.”

You looked lovingly at your family, your friends, your husband, your children.

“Promise me Jake, that when the time comes. You will take that love, the love you had for me, the love we shared, and you will use it to love someone who deserves it.”

“Because you deserve someone amazing, someone who will love better than I ever did.”

You walked backwards towards the others, flashing him that same smile that started all of this, before turning around and walking away.

“Okay.” He smiled to himself, joining the rest of the party.

Tag List below!

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

OMG! Howly cow! I am speechless!😳 Due to different time zones, the alert has been on my email for more than 12 hours. Hours in which I debated if reading throughout the day in small parts was a good idea or if waiting until I could read it properly was better. Luckily, I chose the second option. Bestie, what a chapter! I'm warning you I am becoming a greedy monster for this story! (I do not mean to be pushy. It's just my excitement speaking🤣.)

What a chapter! First, you made me cry, and then… Time enough for what? What's going on? What or who Bambi is protecting? Have I told you this story is good? With each chapter, it gets better! Will this thing be in the present time?😱

Of all the things that can happen during the patrol, that Joel is the only one making Bambi nervous is a bit funny. I understand why, but it's still fun. He hasn't given her any reason to doubt him, but I think that until she lets herself trust him completely she'll be conflicted. The revealing of her scar, I think, will be a heavy emotional moment between them.

For a second, before the men appeared, it looked like a weird first date with some shooting practice. LOL. And then we got some FeralJoel! The whole scene was brutal. I'm happy she didn't kill him at the end. It wouldn't have felt right. I might be rambling, but despite all, she's still good, and she should be able to keep her humanity.

(“Not here to help you,” Joel said, his voice almost eerily calm, so calm it sent a chill down your spine. “I’m here to get information and there’s only one way I know how to do it. You’re gonna want me to give you back to her by the time I’m done. So let’s begin.”) I'm not one to put bits of the chapter in my comments, but that one was something else.

I wonder if Joel knows any of those raiders.🤔 If he does, I hope he tells Bambi about his past before that comes up. If not, it could cause serious trouble between them.

And the kiss at the end felt so right!😍 It felt so natural to happen there. I loved it! The whole moment was so meaningful. I loved how, despite seeing Joel's worst side, she still feels safe with him. It shows the trust Bambi has in him, and if that is not a big sign, I don't know what is.

Thanks for the update! Sorry for the ramble! ♥️♥️♥️

By the way, I found ''Homecoming'' and ''Long distance'' today. Those two-shots are a treasure. I was grinning the whole time I was reading. I love the forbiden thing of DBF, you aced it! I wouldn't mind at all to read more about them.

Ahhhh HI BESTIE!

Please be as greedy as you want with this story, I love sharing it so so much and it brings me so much joy when people love to read it.

When it comes to the opening of the chapter, let's just say I don't drop plot hooks without a reason. I promise, answers are coming (...eventually 😌)

Bambi is so interesting to me when it comes to intimacy! She's so gun shy of it now, especially physical intimacy. She'd kind of rather deal with infected than the warring feelings she's having, I think. Infected she feels more a sense of control over the situation, she knows how to get out of it and how to handle it. Not so with Joel! All her tools for this situation are from a very different time in her life. She can't just walk up to him like she did Justin in chapter one and say "Come see what else I'm good at riding on" and she's not quite sure what to do instead. She's so out of her depth!!

And it did kind of feel date-y right?? They were having their lil apocalypse picnic lol! But Joel got to be the protector and helped keep her safe and let her hold onto her humanity a little while longer, too.

I will say with Joel's raider history, that was a long time ago and a long ways off. HOWEVER... he still did some terrible, horrible things and worked with some terrible, horrible people. And while he may not have been the worst of them, there were things that those other men did that he just stood by and allowed. If Bambi had been taken in, say, Tennessee or something in 2004, Joel wouldn't have done a thing to stop it. He's grown and changed a lot since then, he's going to have some feelings about himself with that.

Yes, Bambi does, on a conscious level, really trust Joel more than anyone else (except maybe Ellie but that's more of a different kind of trust and relationship than anything else.) But her trauma addled brain has a hard time fully embracing that trust. It's a little like your friend getting a dog just after you were mauled by a dog. It's probably sweet and very kind to you and would never hurt a fly but... you're probably not going to want it licking your face right away. But she's DEFINITELY getting there!!

And yayayayayayayaya! Homecoming and Long Distance! Those are fun ones. You can expect the occasional one shot of that couple from time to time. I just don't have a full arc for them, they just fit a fun prompt or ask now and then!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING HERE! I love your notes, they make me so happy. Thanks for reading! Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks

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amessywritersmind · 3 years

Text

Hurricane - Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd

A/N: I’ve recently re-fallen in love with the beauty of the movie Dazed and Confused, and there’s like literally no work for it so I decided to write my own about one of my favorite characters! It’s a friends-lovers type thing sooooo.... Enjoy ;)

I exited my car and walked towards the school entrance with a little more pep in my step today. Around me, I could hear the chatter and excitement of the kids scattered across the parking lot, a few more days and school would be out. Soon, a lot of them would be seniors, including me.

As I was walking, I saw Pickford’s bright yellow car pulling in, Pickford and Michelle inside. Thank the lord! I smiled as he sped into the parking lot, walking over to the car and leaning against the window.

“Ahhhh, Pickford! Just the man I wanted to see on this fine morning!” I said dramatically, smiling at him. He rolled his eyes putting the car into park.

“Hey Michelle!” I said to her as Pickford turned the car off, looking over to me. She smiled back, laughing at Kevin’s reaction to me.

“What do ya want now (y/n)?” He said in fake annoyance.

I nudged him gently, laughing.

“Light me, I left my lighter at home.” I said, pulling a joint out of my pocket and placing it in between my lips, leaning closer so he could light the end.

“M’Lady” He laughed dramatically, producing a lighter and sparking the end.

“Thanks man, you’re the best” You said standing back up right and smiling gratefully, taking a few drags off the thing.

“Yeah yeah, you only want me for my weed and my lighters.” He fake pouted dramatically, earning another giggle from me and Michelle.

“You know you love me!” I exclaimed, reaching in the window and ruffling his hair, much to his annoyance.

“Anyways, I gotta go find some people, I’ll catch you guys later!” I called, backing away and going to find some other friends.

I took a couple drags off the joint, making my way through the school gates and saying hi to people I knew along the way. Mid laugh (at something someone had said) I felt the joint being pulled out of my mouth. I turned quickly only to see one of my very best friends, Randall Floyd, or Pink as we all call him. I smiled at the sight of my joint hanging out of his mouth, a smirk on his lips.

“And what do you think you’re doing Mister? I chuckled, crossing my arms and giving him a look.

“Well, you know what they say (y/n), sharing is caring.” He said jokingly, taking a big hit off of it.

“Heyyyy!” I exclaimed, laughing and reaching for it.

“Don’t smoke it all! I barely got a few hits in.” I pouted as he pulled it from my reach. He laughed and threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in and passing the joint back to me.

“Fine, I’ll give it back Mrs. Grouch” He said, earning a nudge in the side from me.

‘You’re lucky I love you” I grumbled out, looking at him. He laughed. keeping his arm around my shoulder and walking towards the doors to the school.

“So I was wonderin’ if you’re free tonight? Maybe you can drop by mine later tonight? I’ve got some new records to listen to and a sixer just begging for us to drink it.’ Pink said, as if he’d really have to coax me into coming over. I laughed at his ‘puppy dog eyes’ all the same.

“What, no plans with the leech tonight?” I joked around, referring to his ever annoying girlfriend.

“Nahh, needed a break for one night” He said dismissively, earning a laugh from me.

“Alright, It sounds like a plan! Be there at 6?” I confirmed, stopping as we heard someone call Pink’s name. He waved to them to hold on before finally removing his arm from my shoulders.

“Sounds great! Can’t wait.” He confirmed with a smile, turning towards me and stealing the joint again, taking another hit before passing it back to me.

“See you then.” I called to him as he walked backwards, shooting finger guns my way and nearly tripping on his own feet. I laughed at how dorky he really could be at times.

I took the last drag before putting the joint out and walking into the building, nearly running straight into Slater.

“Slater! My man! How’s it going?” I said to him, doing the funky little hand shake we made up a few years back.

“Good, man! Hey! I got that stuff for you.” He said smiling like a maniac, pulling a little bag out of his pocket and handing it to me.

“You are the best my dude!” I laughed out, putting the baggie into my bag.

“Anything for you! Hey man, I’ll check ya later!” He said, shooting me finger guns and walking away. I really was friends with a bunch of dorks.

I sighed, continuing my walk to first period, now all I had to do was survive the day.

Later that day

The final bell rung out, everyone including me rushing to pack their stuff up and get out. As I was walking out of the building I saw Slater, Pickford, and Michelle hanging out in the parking lot over by Pickford’s car and decided to go say hi real quick.

“Only a few more days dudes, and then we’re seniors!’ I exclaimed as I walked up to the group. “Hey Michelle, can I bum a cig?”

She handed me one and lighter. “Thanks.”

“It’s gonna be so weird man, we’re gonna be like so....old” Slater said slowly, laughing after he realized what he said. I laughed too. I handed the lighter back to Michelle and took a drag off the stick.

“All I know is, we’ll be the top of the food chain, and i’m gonna throw a fat party to celebrate!” Pickford laughed, lighting up a joint of his own.

As I was about to reply, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, lifting me up slightly before setting me back down. I let out a little shout, startled, holding my cigarette out to avoid burning whoever the culprit was.

“Floyd! I swear to god I’ll kill you!” I said knowing it could be no one else.

“Oooooo, she used your last name. You’re in trouble, man!” Slater called out, laughing as Pink placed me down again and moved to my side, throwing an arm over my shoulder, as he usually did.

“Awe, look at the two love birds who won’t admit they’re lovebirds!” Pickford said mockingly, faking a gag at the end.

“Oh shove it Pickford” Pink said dismissively, waving off the comment.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t want his toy to hear that.” I fake whispered to the group as they laughed along. I was referring to Simone and they all new it. They all new I couldn’t stand her, including Pink, and most of the group felt the same way.

“Alright alright, that’s enough of that.” Pink started, trying to keep the peace as always.

“Look! It’s my favorite group of little stoners!” A voice called to the left, Donnie joining the small gathering, a chorus of ‘hey Don’s’ and ‘what’s up man’s’ emitting from the group.

“Hey Don! How ya been? Haven’t seen you in a while.” I said as he reached the circle.

“Still waiting on your call, baby.” He said winking and flicking his tongue at me. I heard Pink scoff at this from beside me, but I just laughed. Donnie was Donnie after all.

“In your dreams man.” I replied smoothly.

“Oh you know it sweatheart! Anyways, I’m here for you Slater. Where’s my drugs?” He called over to the stoner, who was currently passing a joint to Michelle.

“Follow me, man.” He said with a guilty grin, him and Donnie walking away.

“Well, as much as I love hanging out with you nerds, I gotta get goin.” I said, moving to walk towards my car. Pink hooked his fingers into the belt loops on the side of my jeans, pulling me back towards him.

‘We still on for tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, sir!” I said feigning seriousness, fake saluting him. He laughed at this.

“Alright then. I shall see you tonight.” He smiled, releasing his hold on the belt loops and backing up slightly.

“See you then. Later, guys!” I called over my shoulder and hopping in my car, the radio coming to life at full volume as the car roared to life.

Today had been a fairly good day but who was I to lie, I was beyond exited for the night to come. I raced home and instantly started getting ready-showering and then getting dressed. I had a little more time to kill before I needed to head over to Pink’s so I took out the new goods from Slater and rolled a few more joints, placing 2 in the “Emergency” supply and packing the rest into my purse before slipping my shoes on and heading out.

I eventually pulled up outside Pink’s house, only to see him and Slater talking out by Pink’s car.

“Getting the party started without me, boys?” I smirked, making my way over to the little group.

“(y/n), man! It feels like it’s been forever since I saw you man.” Slater called, laughing almost nervously. Pink looked over at me as well, shooting me his award winning smile.

“Slater, I literally saw you a few hours ago” I laughed, pulling him into a hug anyways.

“My turn!” Pink exclaimed once I’d let go of Slater, holding his arms open wide with a little smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, laughing, but walking into his arms anyways, my heart skipping a beat momentarily. I just chose to ignore that bit.

“So, what’re you doing here? Not that your company isn’t a pleasure, “ I started, looking at Slater. “but i thought it was just gonna be us tonight?” I finished, looking at Pink.

“It is, he was just dropping off some supplies” Pink answered devilishly.

“Yeah, don’t worry (y/n), I’m not here to steal your man time, man” He laughed out, beginning to step away.

“You wish Slater!” I said, blushing slightly. He just shook his head, beginning to walk away. The blush intensified even more when Pink put his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. He was usually pretty touchy, but it seemed to be amped up even more tonight.

“Thanks again, man. I’ll see you tomorrow at the Emporium?” Pink called as Slater was walking away.

“For sure man! Have fun, but not too much fun, man!” He called back, making his way around the corner.

Pink still hadn’t let go of me so I turned, putting a hand on his chest and laughing at his dopey facial expression.

“Hmmmmm, seems like someone really did start the party without me” I laughed, pinching his cheek lightly, him swatting my hand away.

“Ok maybe I smoked a tinyyyy bit, but there’s still plenty to go around” He said smirking and hooking his fingers into the front belt loops of my pants. I looked up at him, suddenly having an overwhelming urge to lean in. I snapped myself out of it though, if any of that was going to be happening tonight I’d have to be a lot more out of it than my current state.

“Well, why are we still out here then? The weed isn’t going to smoke itself!” I chuckled, breaking away from him and making my way into his house, directly to his room.

I plopped onto his bed, leaning against the headboard as Pink followed me in, closing the door and lighting some incense to mask the smell. As soon as it was good and burning, I pulled out my freshly rolled stash, lighting it and taking a drag as Pink put one of the new records on the player.

Once it was settled, he turned towards me.

“Hey now! Don’t be greedy” He laughed at me, launching himself on top of me on the bed, opening his mouth for me to place the joint in it. I complied with his wishes, sticking it in his mouth and leaning back with a smile on my face, his body still very much on top of mine.

Eventually, he moved to a more comfortable position at my side. We listened to the records, back to back, giving our respective opinions on each of the albums, going through about 4 joints and 3 beers each. By the time the last song on the last of his new records rang out, we were fairly buzzed.

“Well, that’s all of em. Now, what to do, what to do?” Pink stated, looking over to me with an idea in his eyes.

“Have anything specific in mind?” I asked absentmindedly, more focused on the brightly colored poster on the wall.

“I have an idea, yeah” He answered vaguely. I giggled lightly at his lack of explanation.

“Are you planning on sharing that idea with me or are you just gonna keep it locked up in that brain of yours?” I questioned teasingly, leaning forward to tap his temple lightly. He swatted my hand away with a laugh.

“I’ll do better, I’ll show you!” He exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the window. I was curious now.

Before I could question his intentions further, he slid the window open and climbed out on to the roof, turning back and reaching his hand in the window, motioning for me to follow. I grabbed his hand and climbed out as well. He began walking towards the middle of the roof, my hand still clasped tightly in his own.

He sat down finally, pulling my arm along with him. I sat down quietly, leaning against his shoulder lightly. For a few long moments, there was nothing but silence. Pink stared up at the sky, lost in thought.

“Whatcha thinking about?” I asked quietly, poking his side gently.

“I don’t love her.” He answered immediately.

“What?” I replied, taken aback by the question.

“Simone. I don’t love her, I never did. In fact, we’ve been split for months, but she refuses to let me go. I don’t love her because..... well, because I love someone else” He laughed out almost incredulously, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Something about that statement sent a ping straight to my heart.

“Well then, that’s ok! I’m sure this girl likes you back. Who wouldn’t? Don’t worry yourself too-” before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine. They moved in sync briefly before he pulled away.

“It’s you. You are the girl I’m talking about. I think I’ve always known it’s you, I just never realized it.” He let out with no hesitation. As I processed what he was saying to me, my heart was dancing in my chest. This was not how I planned for the night to go, not that I’m complaining at all.

“I don’t think there's any question that I feel the same then?” I asked in a daze, still shocked by the events that had just transpired. Pink chuckled at this, shaking his head and wrapping an arm around me, pulling me closer.

“No, I don’t think so. Though, I think I should double check, just to make sure.” He stated, a goofy smile finding its way onto his face. At that, he leaned down once more, placing his lips on mine once again.

334 notes · View notes

supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years

Text

What happened in Vegas!

Part 11

Pairings: Marcus Pike x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, infidelity, mentions of pregnancy,cursing.

Summary: Theresa plots to have Marcus for herself. Does he give in or are you truly the one?

A/N: this one is a short one! There isn’t many chapters left, we’re nearing the end. I will do little one shots giving snippets of their life when it’s done 😊

*comments and reblogs really appreciated*

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Marcus and Theresa walked hand in hand towards the gallery. Theresa had intertwined her fingers with his, a sly smile on her face. Marcus looked to their hands before looking her in the eyes.

“We have to be convincing, we are supposed to be married after all.”

“Yeah…sure.”

They just had to scope out the gallery, gather information and then report back to the team. Walking around, looking at the beautiful artwork all Marcus can think about is you. Your loving smile, gorgeous eyes and how they sparkle when your happy. When this is over and he is finally back in his room, he has to call you and beg you to forgive him.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Huh..did you say something?”

“I said we should get dinner after this, before we head back to the team.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Theresa, Y/N had a scan today and I..”

“It’s only dinner Marcus, don’t tell me she’s the jealous type.”

“She’s not, anyways she would have nothing to be jealous of,” Marcus says matter of factly. Theresa is fuming.

“Look Marcus I’m going to be blunt here, I don’t think your over me.” His eyes are blown wide, “what look I think…”

“No let me finish. Your not over me, you went to Vegas, hooked up and she got pregnant so your doing the right thing because that’s who you are. I fucked up when I chose Patrick over you and I’ve regretted it ever since. I want you.”

Marcus is stunned by her confession. If this had happened a year ago, he would have brought her back to his room, flung her onto his bed and fucked her hard. Now…

She walks up to him, runs her hand down his chest, “I can make you feel good baby, please, Y/N doesn’t have to know.”

His heart is beating out of his chest. This can’t be happening! Before he knows what’s going on her lips are on his, closing his eyes, all he sees is you. He puts his hands on either side of her and pushes her back.

“Stop! Enough of this Theresa. I love my wife and I’m not leaving her for you. This,” he points between them, “is over, you made sure of that, and if we’re being honest here, I’m happy you did because I’ve found everything I’ve ever wanted in Y/N. I thought I knew what love was but I didn’t know the half of it. Ugh….I’m so stupid I should never have come on this assignment, what the fuck was I thinking.” Marcus storms past her and leaves the gallery. Back in his room he tries calling you as he packs his bag.

“Hi, you’ve reached the new Mrs. Pike, sorry I can’t take your call right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Come on baby please pick up. He tries again three more times and still goes to voicemail. He’s worried now, even if you were still annoyed with him from this morning, you would answer knowing he would worry about you and the baby. He calls J as he makes his way to the hotel lobby.

“Hey man are you ok? What happened back there?”

“J listen I can’t do this I need to get home I have a wife who’s due any week now. I have to be with her, I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I left all my files and notes with Jules she will pass them on. You can lead this one.”

“Your doing the right thing man, don’t worry about the case, go home and mind that hot wife of yours.”

“Thanks J, I owe you.”

***

Marcus arrived at the airport and bought his ticket. It’s only been three days since he saw you last but he can’t help the excitement that flows through him. Checking to see what gate his flight is at, his phone starts ringing. Without looking to see who it is he answers straight away assuming it’s you.

“Hey baby, I’m coming home ok, I shouldn’t have left and I …”

“Marcus.”

“Sarah, hey everything ok, sorry I thought I’d was Y/N..”

“Marcus it’s Y/N, she’s…”

He’s panicking now, “is something wrong, Sarah tell me please.”

“She’s in hospital! Marcus you need to get home!”

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Tagging

Everything: @lunaserenade @asta-lily @day-off-inkyoto @librariantothejedi @anaaaispunk @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @pascal-rascal424 @dindjarinneedsahug @dihra-vesa @ikinmahlen @thorins-queen-of-erebor @janelongxox @stevie75 @kirsteng42 @javierpinme @almaeunice @jediknight122 @colorlesswhispersunknown @loserrlauraa @pintsizemama @seasonschange-butpeopledont @rosie-posie08

WHIV: @albertasunrise @nicolethered @drinkingwhileblogging

Marcus Pike: @agingerindenial @covidihateu

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike x female reader #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal x female reader #the mentalist fanfiction

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

How Longingly I Look Upon You

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Sheriff Din Djarin x Female Teacher Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: G

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Valentine’s Day is a holiday you love, for it’s celebration of tenderness and appreciation. It matters very little that you never have a partner to share it with. This Valentine’s Day the Sheriff offers an opportunity, a potential, something you never thought he’d do.

Notes: This took me way too long to finish thanks to work, but I hope it was worth the nearly 2 month wait!

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Mando’a Translations:

Ba’vodu - Aunt/uncle Cyar’ika - darling/sweetheart (with Paz, i’m using this informally in a way you’d call your friends babe or love as a term of endearment but non-romantic) Ne shab’rud’ni - don’t fuck with me Cyare - beloved, loved Mesh’la - beautiful Cabur’ika - Lit. Little Guardian, but Din’s term of endearment for reader after ‘Never Mess With a School Teacher’ because she is a true guardian of her kids. Mandokarla - having the ‘right stuff’ basically being truly mandalorian in spirit.

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Valentine’s day was a holiday you actually quite enjoyed. It was a day to celebrate love, whether Eros, romantic love, Agape, unconditional love, Philia, affectionate love, or even Philautia, self-love. For you it had always been a day to celebrate the people in your life and while certainly you’d never had a suitor or a courtship during Valentine’s day, that hadn’t mattered so much. You filled your life with love for your family, even if they were now gone, love for your friends, and love for your students. It mattered very little in the end, Valentine’s day was a day for love in all its forms and for you, it was a joy. A joy to teach your students about the day, about the significance, to watch them create cards for their families, and see the red faces and giggling laughter when one of your students braved the walk across the classroom to hand a gift to another. Rather than dwell on what was missing, you chose to focus on all the joy that the day brought.

Today was no different, you had gone into your school house the day before. Spent your Sunday afternoon hanging red and pink bunting, crafty paper hearts and cupids. You wanted every holiday for your children to be worthwhile, to feel like a special day and part of that was decoration. The school house looked like a Valentine’s dream and the lessons for the day were to centre around the same theme. You would cover the history of Valentine’s day and St Valentine, work on mathematical problems in a Valentine’s context, create Valentine’s cards and write stories about great romances and read some of the best love poems that great poets had produced.

You had even gone with a colour scheme of red and pink for your outfit that day, despite your mother often saying you shouldn’t mix the two. Your dress was neatly ironed, almost gaudy in its Valentine’s nature, but fun. Your mother would have no doubt said that the lace and frills, the large puff sleeves, were all a bit much. Much too gaudy for you, a simple school teacher to wear. You wore it anyway because that was how you wanted it. Gaudy, happy, joyful, and overly extravagant for a day teaching. It was flattering, following your silhouette and grazing the ground gently. You had placed little delicate pink flower pins in your hair, surrounding your high updo. You had even rouged your cheeks, something which you rarely did anymore, usually much too busy.

You’re at the schoolhouse door smoothing down your skirts when you see the first of your childrens making their way down the main street. Lunch pails are flying behind them, skirts and ribbons whistling in the wind as they run. You greet each of your children with a bright smile and a ‘Happy Valentine’s day!’, like clockwork, as part of their routine they hang their coats, scarves and hats on the coat hooks by the door and settle into their seats, pulling out slates, books, pencils and chalk. They begin to chat amongst themselves as they wait for you and the lesson to begin. You had them well trained and so allowed them the time to chat knowing they’d listen up the moment you called for it.

Little Grogu is the last to arrive, running on little legs beside Din who always walks him to school in the morning before beginning his day as Sheriff. The little boy wraps his arms around your legs in greeting before wandering in with a wave to his father. While he can speak and you’ve witnessed it more and more, he is generally mute, preferring to use other forms of communication. You’ve noticed this little quirk of his, but don’t mind. If he would rather not speak that’s fine, so long as he’s progressing in his school work then you have little to worry about.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Din.” You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ears, a little nervous to wish him a happy Valentine’s Day, oddly enough. All these months of knowing him and he still makes you nervous, not in a bad way. It had gotten worse since that kiss in the school house, the nerves of wanting him but not being sure if that kiss had truly meant more to him causing you to become shy when near him. You feel completely and utterly safe with Din, yet at the same time feel that bubble of excitement and nerves in your stomach, that roiling sensation you’ve not felt since you were a child with a crush. You wanted him to see you as more than just Grogu’s teacher but as a woman, an unmarried woman, a woman he could potentially see himself with. A future wife. While he’d expressed interest in courting you that day, nothing had happened since whether he’d changed his mind or the busyness of life had taken over, you weren't sure. You had never thought much on the prospect of marriage, despite your mother’s many warnings, you had simply not cared all that much. You had decided to live your life on your terms, as much as possible, but Din...Din was a man you could see yourself marrying.

It had grown over the months of knowing him from an objective enjoyment of his features, an acceptance that he was an incredibly handsome man and kind as well, into what you could only describe as longing. The beginnings of something greater, something akin to love. Din was everything you could ever want in a prospective husband, prospective father of your future children. He was handsome, so much so that you were ashamed of the thoughts that on occasion, usually in the quiet of the night, ran through your mind. He was kind and caring, a surprisingly gentle man despite his broad shoulders, large hands, and more violent profession. Ex-bounty hunters weren’t known for their softness and yet that was the only way to describe how he treated you and the children. He was gentle in voice, never raising it around you, never shouting or yelling, he chose his words carefully. He was soft in the way that he allowed the children to sit in his lap as he told stories or helped them down from trees when they got stuck. He was kind in that he was always caring for you, whether making sure you were given adult company during the school day or ensuring you ate after a long day without stopping. He was protective, but not overbearing. Kind and soft, but not weak. He would make a wonderful husband, that is something you were utterly sure of and you knew that you were not the only unmarried woman in town who’d turned their gaze to him.

So it made you nervous to wish him a happy Valentine’s day because on a day of love, he was someone you wanted to celebrate and yet found yourself too nervous to do so. It wasn’t becoming, it wasn’t ladylike to take that first step, that first plunge into the unknown world that was love. Despite that spontaneous and daring kiss you found yourself thinking of your mother and shying away from making another attempt. Your mother, God rest her soul, had always made it a notable detail, a finer point in the plan of your life. You would be approached by a man, not the other way around, and you would ultimately make the decision as to whether you wished to be courted by him with the intent to marry or whether you did not. Despite breaking tradition in the way you taught your children, this was something you didn’t have the courage for. Not again. While Din had expressed interest in you all those months back, the time between had seen nothing but his usual friendly behaviour. It made you conscious of your behaviour and the risk of getting hurt. If Din had an interest in you as a potential spouse, a riddur as he told you once, then he would have to make the next move.

Now standing before you with one hand behind his back and the other holding his hat by his stomach he looked infinitely more nervous than you expected for simply dropping off Grogu to school. There was a hint of red to his cheeks, the tips of his ears, his deep brown eyes darted around, from the floor to your own, before looking over your shoulder. You hadn’t truly seen him like this, this nervousness was unusual for him and you could have sworn he’d combed his hair with some pomade, an attempt to neaten the unruly dark curls that you thought were quite dashing on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Y/N,” You frown at the formality, confused as to why he isn’t calling you cabur’ika like he usually does. The formality of calling you miss had dissolved almost the moment you met him and it was strange coming from his lips after so much familiarity between you. He has only ever called you miss when talking to the children about you.

For Din, he has never felt quite as nervous as in this moment. Perhaps it’s the time that’s elapsed that does it. When he kissed you he meant it, he meant his intent to court you, but his job had become busier over the months after...and in truth, he had doubts about his worth. He was unsure if he was truly enough for you. He felt ungentlemanly, improper, too rough. For months he’d been struggling with whether or not he was good enough for you, he knew you wanted to be courted by him, but was it the right thing for you? After months of soul searching, a healthy dose of want and longing every time he saw you with the children or whenever you smiled at him, he’d decided that it was your choice to make. He wanted to be with you and maybe he wasn’t damn good enough, maybe he wasn’t the man that should get to be with you, but if you wanted him then he wasn’t strong enough or selfless enough to or cold enough to do anything but love you.

“I...I have something for you, it ain’t much but I…well…” The flush to his cheeks grows deeper, a bright beaming red that screams against his bronzed skin. From behind his back he pulls his arm, hand outstretched towards you. He knows there’s a subtle shake to his arm, nerves at bearing his heart open, however, subtly, racing through his blood. More adrenaline than he’s felt anywhere but in a gunfight.

There, clutched tight between the fingers of his left hand is a beautifully bound book, green leather cover and gilded words, tucked between the pages you can see an envelope just peeking out at the top. You gently take it from his hands with your left, the meaning of that burned into your memory from lessons with your mother. To give and receive a gift with the left hand is to recognise and accept an active interest in oneself. The weight of it has your heart pounding in your chest, almost violently so against your ribs. You read the cover, ‘The Complete Poetical Works of Walt Whitman’, the tears gather in your eyes before you have any time or thought to stop them. There’s a blind panic that fills Din’s chest, like the blaring of a ship’s foghorn in his mind, at the sight of tears collecting in your eyes. There’s a moment of genuine fear, that he’s somehow messed up, that he’s caused you to become upset.

Walt Whitman was the poet you used to read with your father every evening after he finished a long day of work, his works are some of your favourite, some of the most important to you, but you’ve never been one to spend money on yourself. You often spend your wage, what little of it you have, on items for the school, books for the children, a globe, an anatomical skeleton. You have a small copy of his works, old and worn, some pages missing. This book means more to you than you think Din knows. Afterall, Walt Whiteman is a well known poet and books are one of the few perfectly acceptable gifts to give to a woman that you are not married or engaged to. It was presumptuous to assume that the gift had any added meaning behind it. Foolish your late mother might have even said in her damning indictment of romance.

“How did you know?” You clutch the book tight to your chest, heart aching with happiness and longing, that this man had given this to you, on Valentine’s of all days. It brings burning heat to your cheeks, a stutter to your heart, a dryness to your mouth. This is a step that you had dreamed, hoped of, that move towards something more. This was confirmation that he meant it all those months back, that he intended to court you and hadn’t had a change of heart.

“You...he’s the poet you mention the most when you’re teaching the little ones, cabur’ika” You realise what this is, what this all means. He isn’t just a kind sheriff or your friend, he’s an unmarried eligible man showing you that he’s paid attention to you, that he’s interested. There’s a shift, a shift from the easy friendship to a new undercurrent of tension at the unspoken understanding between the two of you, at the prospect of courtship that he’s extending towards you. It’s not a marriage proposal, it’s not marriage, but it’s an offer to begin on the road towards that. It is confirmation that the kiss you’d shared hadn’t been a mistake, a whim, something fleeting and insubstantial.

It makes your heart flutter in your chest at the prospect that Din Djarin is putting his foot forward, extending a possibility, an opportunity, a potential future. That out of all the unmarried women in town Din was actively showing interest in you. He could have picked any number of beautiful, intelligent, eligible women to show interest in, to potentially court, but he’d chosen you. The weight is added at the prospect that he’s not just offering you a marriage, but a family, because little Grogu is part of his world, part of his life and you would never want anything less.

“Thank you, Din...I...Thank you.” You feel a little lost for words, they’re stuck in your throat, knowing that there are so many things you wish to say but so many things you can’t say.

“I should leave you to your teaching, Miss Y/N. I…” There’s a pause as he thinks over the words in his mind, and stops himself. Din is a fool for you, that he is certain, but the last thing he wants at that moment is to make a larger fool out of himself. So he places his hat back atop his head and says, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You watch as he says a sweet goodbye to Grogu, kneeling briefly on the ground to touch his forehead to the boy’s before reminding him to ‘be good’ for you.

The envelope is a temptation, sticking out from the top of the book, it calls for you to open it in that instant. But, you don’t, smiling at Din as he walks down the street towards the sheriff’s office, you turn back to head inside, Grogu walking with you to his seat, ready for you to teach the class. Despite the nagging desire to see what letter, what words lie in that envelope, you place the book atop of your desk and begin your day of teaching. You attempt to put the letter to the back of your mind, to keep the thoughts of being courted by Din at bay so that you can effectively teach, but you know you are distracted.

The children are just as unfocused as you, the day goes both fast and slow with dramatics abound. Jonah receives at least 5 love letters, Grogu catches a frog for little Mary-Beth and your entire class takes time to gift you with a drawing by themselves of you and the entire class.

Despite a whole class to distract you, you find it hard to teach, your eyes drifting back to your desk. That unassuming little envelope poking out from beneath the pages of a little poetry book that means more to your soul than you can possibly put into any sort of words. You find yourself thinking ahead, of the future, of Din. If he did indeed wish to court you, to go down that path of potential and intended marriage, then he was truly to be part of your future, he and Grogu.

There was no doubt in your mind that you’d accept such a proposition, that you wanted him in your future. Din was your friend, something that had taken very little time in truth. From the moment you’d met him and his son, he’d managed easily to worm his way into your affections without even a thought to do so. He was kind, competent, caring. He was good with children. Respected you, your intelligence and your authority in your classroom. While he happily joined you to tell stories to the children he would always defer to you and respect your right to dictate what happened inside your school house. He helped when you needed it, but never jumped so eagerly to help that he took over when you did not need it. While he was certainly quiet, had a temper hidden beneath it all and a danger to him that you’d seen on the few occasions he felt the town or it’s occupants were in danger, he had never made you feel anything but safe and secure. He had proven himself competent the moment he stepped into town, arranging your school house to be built and demanding the respect of every inhabitant. He had done more for you in the months you’d known him than anyone else had done in years.

He, in truth, captured your attention unlike any other person you’d ever met. You had always had an abstract desire for love, marriage, a family. But, no one had ever caught your attention, no man had ever been thought of as a potential father to your children or life companion. Din from the start had you take notice, you couldn’t quite comprehend the idea that he wanted to potentially marry you of all people.

He had his fair share of admirers, in a small town like your own, he was the man that stood out the most and one of the most handsome. He had a lot of eyes on him at all times and you assumed that he knew it, some were less subtle and ladylike than others. You knew he’d received a few propositions, something your mother would have been horrified at, but he’d yet to accept a single offer. To receive one from him, meant that out of all the people lined up outside the sheriff’s office begging for his attention, he’d chosen you. Something which excited you.

It’s on your lunch break, the children running around outside, that you finally have time to pull the envelope from its resting place between pages of inked words and sit with it. When you retrieved it from between pages of poetry, you had found yourself faced with little dried and pressed flowers between the pages of Walt Whitman’s works. A little additional that made a smile crawl across your lips. You’re sitting on the front steps, watching the kids play, one eye on them, the other on the unassuming letter in your hands. Grogu has come to join you, toddling up the steps on little legs before plonking himself down next to you, leaning his chubby cheek into your arm.

“Shall we see what your buir has written, mm?” You ask the little boy, he grins up at you at the mention of his father, he’s missing a couple of his baby teeth right at the front and the gap adds to the sheer adorable nature of the boy. You don’t know how much he knows, but Grogu has always seemed to know more than he let on, to understand the world around him better than most. There was always an intelligence behind those big eyes that made you think he knew more than either you or Din.

The envelope is unassuming, just a cream coloured piece of paper, neat cursive writing along the front spelling out your name. You’ve never seen Din’s handwriting before and it speaks of someone who received a decent education, hours of being drilled on the correct way to hold a dip pen, how to form each letter. There’s a hesitation to the writing that speaks of someone who hasn’t had reason to write in a while, a little judder to the letters. You trace a fingertip over your name, how it looks in his hand, black ink stark against cream paper. It looks pretty when he’s writing it, you think.

You turn over the envelope and slide a finger underneath the lip of it, careful to open it and not tear the paper in your haste. You glance up briefly at the sound of a yell, seeing that Jerome is fine and just laughing with the others, red in the face from receiving a kiss to the cheek, you turn your gaze to the folded letter that you pull from it’s confines.

It takes everything within you to keep your composure as you read the letter. There is a girlish part of you that wishes to giddily squeal, throw the page into the air and run around in circles to express the sudden burst of energy that fills you. Instead, you sit there calmly, fingers and hands shaking as your eyes dart across the page following each line, hungry for the next.

Dearest cabur’ika, Y/N,

In truth I do not know how to write this letter to you, but it felt less forward and presumptuous to put my thoughts onto paper than to speak them to you clearly and in the open where the town gossip would get involved. I do not want you to feel forced to return my affections or embarrassed by them. While we’ve shared a kiss and i’ve expressed my intent towards you in the past, it has always been private, quiet and anything but bold. It has always left room for doubt, uncertainty and movement. You deserve surety.

I have never been nor will I ever be a poet or a writer. I am a former bounty hunter, a sheriff, a mandalorian. I was raised to fight, to defend, not to write poetry or put down my thoughts and feelings into prose. I apologise if this letter is less than you dreamed of. If it fails to live up to lofty expectations or childhood dreams.

I wish to make it plain and clear to you that I find you to be beautiful. Not just in form, or face, but in soul. You are a protector, a guardian, a caregiver and teacher. From the moment I met you you treated myself and my son with a kindness that I doubt I will ever forget. You have enchanted me in body, soul and mind. When I kissed you in the schoolhouse it was not on a whim, nor was it a false promise. I had and have every intent to court you, to one day marry you. I apologise that I have been distant or allowed room for doubt to grow.

I am eager to see but a glimpse of you in the day, to make you smile or offer you some respite. I am eager to hear your voice even as you talk about topics I have no interest in. I am eager to be in your presence, to see the kindness with which you treat each of your children and the sweetness of your smile, the fierceness of your nature when called upon to protect your class. In the words of Walt Whitman, ‘you do not know how longingly I look upon you’.You are mandokarla, built with the soul of a warrior, the kindness of a mother, and the mind of a teacher. Perhaps my words are too strong or forward, perhaps you do not share my feelings, but I wish to lay my intentions at your feet. I do not wish to presume you return these feelings, perhaps that kiss was a moment of weakness, perhaps your feelings have changed. But I cannot in good conscience go on as we have.

I wish to step out with you, I wish to court you for the town to see, to one day marry you. If you ever allowed me such an opportunity I think I might be the luckiest of men, to have you join me in equal partnership as my riddur. To wake each morning to your smile, to raise our children and Grogu with you. To help you at your weakest and stand and watch you at your strongest. I long to build a life with you.

I ask, will you allow me the great honour of courting you?

If you do not feel the same then I shall end my pursuit, I shall respect your feelings or lack thereof and we shall be friends, as we have been. But, please, consider my words. I would be blessed if you ever saw me worthy of you, you would not just be an excellent riddur, but a loving buir to Grogu. If I did not feel seriously about you I would not make this offer. But, the choice is yours and I shall respect it no matter what your decisions may be.

Yours with love and affection,

Din Djarin

The shake to your breath comes from a good dose of shock and giddiness that collide together inside of your chest like two wagons that haven’t been watching where they were going. It’s not a proposal, but it is a proposal at the same time. There is a giddiness that fills you knowing that Din wishes to step out with you, that he wishes to show the town his intention to one day marry you, that he has affection past that of friendship for you. It’s the giddiness that comes from returned affections, shared interest, you no longer feel as if you are the only one gazing at the other, that your feelings are unrequited. It feels as if all that worry, all that doubt had been for naught, simply a foolish girlish thing to do. How had you ever doubted his intentions towards you?

“Miss, it’s time for history…” It’s Annie standing in front of you, hands on her hips to remind you that you need to call the children in, that has you hastily folding the letter and pocketing it, picking Grogu up and resting him on your hip as you rise. You, as most teachers, do not have the time to be giddy or dwell on love confessions during the school day.

The day drags on in its last moments. Your desire to return home, to write a carefully crafted response, to find some sort of gift in addition, has you counting the seconds, minutes, and hours as they slowly tick by. Your children can tell you are unfocused and they become incredibly distracted as a result, but despite this you can’t find it in yourself to be frustrated or irritated, not today of all days when your patience with them has been extended by your supernaturally good mood.

When Din collects Grogu at the end of the day you give him your sweetest smile and thank him earnestly for the letter. He isn’t sure what it means. It’s not an outright rejection or acceptance and despite the burning desire in his chest to receive an answer, he knows how to be patient, tipping his hat at you and offering to walk you home as a gentleman does.

It isn’t unusual for Din to walk you home after the school day ends, even on nights where you stay late at school he often comes back with Grogu to walk you as the dark sets in. He has never been anything but a gentleman when it comes to making sure you get home safe even in a small town where very little happens and you know everyone. Still, you’ve always appreciated the gesture and you do now, even if wrapping your arm through his and walking side by side takes on a new tension, a new feeling.

There’s a little thought in the back of your mind, niggling, that you can’t quite get rid of. The thought that this is what your little family could look like if all goes well. That you, with your arm wrapped through Din’s, hands in the crook of his elbow, and him, with Grogu on his hip, little arms wrapped around his neck, could easily be a future image of a family. Not just the Sheriff, a single father, walking the school teacher home because he’s polite and gentlemanly.

“Thank you again, for the letter and the poetry book. I...you don’t understand how much it all means to me, Din. I...I want to respond properly, take my time….I.” The air is cold, as it always is in early February, but your entire body feels warm as you try to explain that you’re not rejecting his offer. You don’t want him to doubt for a second that you intend to say yes, but it doesn’t feel right to say it. There’s a desire to take your time, to write a heartfelt reply, to ensure that the time he took for you, you take in return.

“You ain’t gotta tell me right away. It’s okay to take your time, mesh’la.” The reassurance has your shoulders dropping, a sense of relief, the removal of pressure. Any fear you had that Din would grow impatient dissipates and you're reminded once more of how safe you feel with him. Both physically and emotionally. He is a calming, solid presence. There is nothing fickle or finicky about Din and that is a relief when so much of your social world is confusing to navigate.

“Thank you.” You tell him earnestly, drawing closer to him as you walk. Your side pressed fully into his, hip to hip, arm to arm. You cannot truly comprehend Din Djarin, the many elements that make him a better man than most, but you don’t think you have to fully comprehend him to enjoy being around him, to find comfort in him. Perhaps it will take years for you to fully understand who he is, but you like to believe you’ll get the time to do so. To learn him just as well as he seems to have learnt you.

Your home isn’t particularly large. When you first came to town the Mayor had informed you that the post of teacher came with a small lodging. It was small; a separate bedroom off of the main living area, a water closet out in the back garden, enough room in the kitchen and living area for your tub to be placed in front of the fire when you need to wash. It was, however, homey, something Din had admired from the first.

You ensured that blankets and pillows, knick knacks and trinkets covered the space. That it felt like a lived space, a place filled with love and warmth.

He’s reluctant to leave you when he reaches the top step to your door. There’s a part of him that rarely wants to part from you, that enjoys your company even if it’s silent. You are comforting and familiar, he feels like he can be himself around you. There’s an implicit trust between the two of you. He trusts you with his son, he trusts you with his safety and protection, he trusts you with himself and even his heart, something he has protected ever since the death of his parents at the hands of bandits and thieves. He would be happy so long as he is in your presence and it is that fact that makes him certain about his decision to propose courtship, there is no one he would rather spend the rest of his days with. Terrifying, overwhelming, massive, but he can sense how entirely worth it it will be.

“Goo-”

“Hav-”

The two of you go to say goodnight at the same time, stopping short and laughing under your breath. You tug at the fabric of your skirt and shift, feeling a wave of embarrassment at talking over each other, an odd feeling when neither have done anything to be embarrassed of.

Grogu shifts on his father’s hip, leaning forward a hand reaching out to wave at you. You begin to smile, waving back at the little boy, your smile only grows wider when the usually mute boy giggles out “Goodnigh’!” at you with a large smile on his face.

The boy manages to break the tension with a simple word and smile, once again you wonder if he knows more than he lets on. That this six year old is, perhaps, wise beyond his years.

“Goodnight, Grogu. Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, cabur’ika” There is a pause from Din as if he wishes to say something, before stopping himself, turning and walking down your stairs. You wait there at your door, watching him leave until your eyes can no longer follow his figure as he disappears around a corner and out of sight.

Your home feels empty, unusually so, with their presence gone, but you decide to put your energy and longing into a response. The first part is your famous spiced cookies. You know that Mandalorians prize spiced foods highly, a cultural aspect that your teacher Atin’a Caivass had shared with you as a child.

The recipe was hers, one thing she gifted you, shared with you, and entrusted to you. So you get to work, mixing together flour, butter, sugar, egg. Adding spices that are one of the little luxuries you deign to spend a little extra on. They’re the sort of cookies that have a lovely mixture of sweetness and kick, they hit you in the back of the throat just enough to make your mouth tingle. The coco powder in them balances out the heat nicely,

Once the cookies are on the side cooling you hunt out your letter writing items. You haven’t had reason to write a letter since the passing of your parents many years ago. But, you know, in your organised way, where your things are. You collect your writing paper, envelopes, dip pen, ink. You find out your sealing wax, the stamps you haven’t used in years. You lay out each item on your kitchen table with care, feel a thrill go through you that you haven’t felt in years. You always enjoyed writing letters, taking your time to put thoughts and feelings into words onto paper.

You take up your pen, dip the metal nib into black ink and bring the tip to cream, clean, fresh paper and begin to write.

Dearest Sheriff Djarin, Din.

There are few words in the expanse of the dictionary that could truly describe how I felt upon reading your letter. Ever since the kiss we shared I had worried, doubted. I was scared that perhaps you had changed your mind, decided that I was not worth your time, that I was not of interest anymore. When to me you had only become further ingrained in my dreams and wants. I was scared that I had made a terrible fool of myself.

To know that those feelings are returned, that you can see a life and a future with me means the world, it means everything. Grogu and you have become an inextricable part of my life, a part I would never wish to do without. You and that sweet boy make my soul sing and as Walt Whitman once aptly put ‘I am to see to it that I do not lose you’.

You enchant me and thrill me to no end and perhaps that is not ladylike to say, perhaps I should write a quick acceptance of your offer and leave it at that, but I feel that such honest and open words should be returned in kind. I adore you.

I adore the crinkle in your brow, the blinding smile when you drop your guard. I adore the kind, gentle nature you have around children, the ease with which you cause them to smile and laugh. I adore the respect you have for me, the respect you have for my authority in the classroom. I adore the curls of your hair, the hook of your nose, the patchy beard that grows on your jaw. I find there is very little I do not adore about you, Din Djarin and that is both a terrifying concept and one that I too adore.

There was a time I thought little on marriage. I was told I should marry, but what of it? Why would I? You have, for the first time, made me truly desire marriage, a husband, children, a life of pure domesticity and family.

To put it plainly, and I hope my feelings are not off putting or too forward, I would be glad, happy, ecstatic to one day call myself your wife and to call you my husband, my riddur.

You asked if I would allow you to court me and my answer is yes, a hundred, a thousand times yes. I would love nothing more than to step out with you, to hang on your arm and begin to take steps towards a life together.

I wish to make it equally as clear that Grogu matters to me. That I understand that he is part of this, part of you, and that I would never wish for you to part from each other. If you one day saw me as worthy of becoming his mother then I would take that responsibility on with pride and with love. He is a little angel, he captured my heart from the very first day I met him, even with his mischief and I would never wish to part with the two of you or come between your aliit, only to join it. I understand that he is as much your son, your child, as any child born of your own blood.

I accept your offer of courtship and I knowingly enter into it, and all that it entails.

All my love and affection,

Y/N Y/L/N

You wait for the ink to dry, in the meantime you take some muslin and begin to wrap the cookies carefully in the fabric. The twine you wrap around you knot into a bow. Redoing it multiple times until you're happy with its shape. There’s no real need for a knot of twine to be perfect, but you want it to look perfect, to be perfect, for him.

The ink of your letter is dry and you’re careful as you go through the motions of folding the pages, slipping them into a crisp envelope and weighing down the lip. You’re selective in your choice of wax and seal, careful as you melt the wax, pour it and stamp it. There’s a quiet calm about it all, sealing your words behind wax and paper. Knowing that the next time they’re revealed the one person they’re meant for will be reading them.

You place the times together on the side with care, ready to be collected in the morning as you leave for the school house. You take a few moments to think about when it would be best to deliver them, deciding that as much as it pains you to wait, the evening, after school, is better than the morning. It would simply distract you more, you have little time to do it, and the evening gives you that time to talk, to enjoy the change in your relationship.

You go to sleep that night with thoughts of Din’s smile, the one he gives whenever he tells a story to your class, soft, gentle, filled with contentment. Thoughts of the way his hair curls over his ears and his neck moves as he swallows. Thoughts of how he had come into your little mining town of Navarro and shaken everything up in the best sort of way, put to right all the wrongs, solved problems and brought forth solutions.

When you wake the next morning you’re extra particular about what you choose to wear, how your pins look in your hair and how much rouge is on your cheeks. You know, deep down, that Din could care less about the way your hair is pinned or how much rouge is on your cheeks, but it’s something to occupy your hands and mind in the morning before you get to the school house. Once you’re teaching you know you’ll have little time to worry or think about the response you intend to pass on to Din at the Sheriff’s office that evening, but in the meantime you busy yourself with your daily routine.

The day seems to drag, your smile and good morning to Din as he drops Grogu off for school is filled with tension and unspoken words. Your lessons seem to take forever to teach and where you’d normally be enthused you find yourself more eager for the day to end than anything else.

Paz is the one to come by and collect Grogu at the end of the day. The large man had settled into town as the deputy not a month into Din’s stint as sheriff. You knew that Paz and Din were close, practically brothers, having grown up together in the covert and that had been the main reason for you warming to him so quickly. Without Din’s presence you would have likely shied away from Paz. He was large, if you’d thought Din was broad shouldered, then he had nothing on Paz, who was a veritable giant. His size and his resting scowl made him intimidating, but his interactions with the children and women of town showed his character instantly. Like another Mandalorian you knew he’d been gentle and sweet, respectful, despite his size and intimidating demeanor. You liked Paz, even if he seemed to enjoy embarrassing you around his brother.

“Hey there, Little One!” You watch Paz crouch down, arms open as the little boy barrels towards him as fast as his little legs can go. Grogu absolutely adored Paz, he was his uncle, his ba’vodu, and the little boy loved being swung about, hefted to and fro by the giant man. It was the tenderness with which Paz always encompassed Grogu in his arms, lifting him gently to his shoulders, that reminded you of the soul inside Paz. The cover of his book was intimidating, scary, tough, the face of a mercenary and bounty hunter, but his inner pages, his soul was just as soft as Din, just as caring. You were happy to call Paz a friend.

“Hello, Paz”, You smile up at the man, Grogu now sat about his shoulders, arms wrapped around the top of his head with a little smile. The man in question smiles down at you, “Good evenin’, cyar’ika”, You smile wider at the familiar endearment, happy to see your friend even if the nerves from your impending visit to Din buzz in your stomach and chest.

“Is Din working late?”

“Yeah, the kid’ll be at mine for the night, Din’s working the graveyard shift so to speak.” You’re, in truth, glad that Paz is watching Grogu for the night, that Din is working late. It gives you the privacy to give your response, without either the watchful eyes of a child or any other sort of audience.

“Well, have a good night, Paz”

“Not as good as yours i’m sure” It’s said with that teasing glint that Paz often gets in his eye and a smirk that twists the shape of his beard. It causes a sort of panic to fill you, at the thought that Paz knows, that he knows what’s going on even if it’s completely believable and acceptable that Din would tell his brother about his intentions towards you. Your body feels warm all of a sudden and you're sure there’s a look of panic in your eyes because Paz’s glint softens down to something kind and gentle as he nods a goodnight to you and walks away.

You force yourself to go about your normal routine, spending a few hours at the school house marking books, organising the next day’s lessons, tidying up and generally making sure you were ready for all your children the following morning. You may spend a little too much time rearranging the items on your desk and sharpening pencils that don’t really need to be sharpened.

It’s as the sun begins to dip low in the February sky, and people begin to light lamps in their houses or, for those with enough money, turn on their electric lights that you finally decide enough is enough and grab the parcel and letter from your desk. You march with a strange sort of determination, that hides the mess of emotions you are inside, across the street and to the Sheriff’s Office. It doesn’t matter that Din had already shared his feelings with you, you were still nervous of his reaction, had you responded well enough? Was it romantic enough? Would something in your letter be off putting for him? Was it too forward? Not clear enough?

He is leaning back in his chair, legs crossed on top of his desk, heels of his boots digging into the wood of the table. The warm light from various gas lamps bounces across Din’s features, accentuates the sharpness of his cheek bones, the curve of his hawkish nose, the shadow from the brim of his hat.

His chair makes a sharp screech across the floorboards as he rushes to stand at the sight of you, feet falling to the floor as he bounces to them. The hat is swept off his head, politely removed to show the curls of his hair as he, dare you say nervously, tugs at his waistcoat and checks his attire. It’s somewhat relaxing, the endearing nerves with which he greets you, the quick attempt to perfect himself, to show you the best of him, even if you would have happily been greeted by him even if he were covered head to toe in mud.

“Cabur’ika…” He’s a little breathless and it causes a flush to reach his cheeks. He’s embarrassed that he sounds like a school aged kid, that he isn’t standing before you behaving like a man, an adult. But, you take the breath out of him. You’re frazzled looking after a long day teaching, the hair of your up-do frizzy and falling out in places, chalk across your cheeks and skirt, wrinkles in your clothes that he was sure weren’t there that morning, but you still looking breathtaking, you still make his heart jump a beat.

“Din…” You’re breathless yourself, it feels like your nerves have a hand around your throat, a tight grip keeping the breath from leaving your lungs. You fumble a little as you step towards him, tripping on a loose floorboard but catching yourself. Your hands nearly drop the precious cargo they’re carrying and you clutch tighter in response.

“I...uh...Here.” You had the parcel and letter to him, as he reaches for the envelope first you panickedly say, “The parcel! Open...open the parcel first?” He can see the nerves in you, the way you twist your fingers and bite at your bottom lip, in an effort to ease them he nods with a smile and puts the envelope on his desk, focusing on the package of muslin and string.

He’s careful as he opens it on his desk, pulling apart the perfect bow you’d tied and unravelling the package with careful hands. His fingers are too delicate in that moment for such large hands, for hands that have choked men unconscious and lassoed bounties, that have held guns. It’s odd for him, how easily he has fitted into the domesticity of town, odd, but not unwelcome.

The wrappings fall away and he’s greeted by the sight of warm brown cookies, irregularly shaped, although somewhat circular. They’re delicious looking, but what gets him the most is the smell, it reminds him of winter nights in the covert, of his adopted parents and warm cookies and milk, spices that he’s almost forgotten about. He should really ask before grabbing one and tucking in, but he can’t resist the urge to find out if the spices are the ones he remembers from his childhood.

The cookie is moist and soft as it crumbles away easily onto his tongue, he can’t resist closing his eyes at the taste. He recognises the spices, the taste taking him back to fond memories and warmth, a familial bond between him and those who had taken him in, protected him, given him a purpose, a life. He finishes the whole thing without really realising it.

You watch on, anxious to see if he likes them. It had been a risk, spicing the cookies, you hoped the significance to his culture was a good thing and not bad. You found yourself second guessing your decision as his brow furrowed, eyes closing, but then he took the next bite, and the next, until the cookie was no more and Din’s chocolate coloured eyes opened and blinked over at you with the lightest sheen of tears.

“How did you know?”

“I...I had a mandalorian teacher, remember? She...she always liked spiced cookies, I…are they okay? Was...should I not have?” You feel the worry bounce through you, at the thought that you’d crossed some invisible line, some sort of boundary not meant to be crossed.

“No, no! They’re lovely, thank you. They...they remind me of home, Mesh’la.” He’s quick to reassure you, a warm hand reaching out to give one of your own a quick squeeze, just long enough to comfort you, but no longer than appropriate.

You watch him turn back to the envelope, picking it up with care before glancing between the seal and you, eyes darting back and forth as if he is unsure if he is allowed to open it, to read it. “Open it.” You force the words from your throat, nervous for him to read your words, your thoughts and feelings put to paper, but knowing that the relief once he has done so will outweigh your current anxiety.

You stand and watch, a lump in your throat, your hands twisting into your skirt as he opens the envelope. A careful finger pulling the seal free and gently easing the pages of your letter from it’s confines. You wait and you watch, eyes intent on his features as his own carefully trace across the curvature of your words.

He can feel his heart pounding in his ears, feel the tears well in his eyes as he reads further throughout your letter. It is not just your open acceptance of his offer that has his emotions rising within his chest, but the clear admiration of him and the openness with which you accept his son. Grogu was his child, you were right, as much as any child of his own blood would be, and he had, in truth, stupidly worried that you might not accept the boy as your own. Your excitement at the prospect of one day being a mother to him causes his heart to ache in the best sort of way.

Din was purposeful as he placed the letter down and strode up to you, the toes of his boots touching the hem of your skirt. He invades your personal space in a way that sets your skin aflame, yet it is not uncomfortable. You welcome his presence as much as it causes your heart to beat rapidly and your throat to swallow.

“May I kiss you?” He asks, his voice soft and gentle, the southern twang just under the surface. He’s so close you can feel the warmth from his skin. You nod, letting out a shaky breath as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. So large they enclose you so well, make you feel secure even as your heart tries to stutter out of your chest. It matters little that you’ve kissed before, that was quick, this was slow, your attention undivided, your thoughts completely encapsulated by him and his entire being. His hands are warm against your cheeks, thumbs brushing back and forth in gentle strokes as he gages your reaction, eyes focused on your own. He’s slow as he moves forward, as if giving you time to back out, to pull away, but you don’t.

He tastes like spices and sugar, the cookie lingering on his tongue long after it had melted away. He is soft, but not so gentle, the gentle, delicate nature of your last kiss is replaced by depth of emotion, passion and fire. His lips firm against yours, a large hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you closer, while the other falls to your waist. His beard scratches against your skin pleasantly and you think you could happily grow used to this. You think little of propriety, of politeness, when you open your lips to his and meld yourselves closer together, think little of it as you clutch at his shoulders and breathe him in, as your fingers come up to tangle in those chocolate curls and tug incessantly, as his tongue tangles with your own. There is no fear of it going too far, of Din pushing you for more, of demanding more because you both know the lines that must not be crossed, because you trust him implicitly and because you know he respects you enough to not risk your reputation or livelihood for something carnal or baser, even if he desires it. Even if you desire it.

The lack of fear is what allows you to get swept up in the kiss, in the feeling of his hands and lips on you, the warmth of his skin, the smell of his soap. It allows you to forget that the world outside exists, that you are not in your own private world, but in the easily accessible space that is the Sheriff’s Office.

The spell is broken by the sound of the door slamming open and heavy, booted footfalls on the floorboards. You pull apart with a gasp and Din is quick to stand in front of you, as if to protect you from view, scowling at his deputy in the doorway. Not even the little boy on Paz’s shoulder can take the frustration from Din, he is frustrated at the interruption, embarrassed for you, that you were caught in a compromising position, and irritated by the smirk that’s heavy on Vizsla’s lips.

Paz hadn’t meant to interrupt, in truth he hadn’t expected to find you there, lips locked to his brother, but Grogu was being fussy. Refusing to eat his dinner and then outright refusing to be put to bed. Paz had decided the kid just needed to see his buir, he hadn’t expected Din to be...in the middle of something.

“Am I interrupting something, Djarin?” He’s teasing and he feels a little sorry when he sees how embarrassed you look, but it’s worth it for the glare he gets from Din. His smirk widens as Din practically growls at him, teeth clenched tight.

“Vizsla, don’t make me shove my boot where the sun don’t shine. Ne shab’rud’ni.” He softens a little at Grogu grinning at the two of you, but he still wishes the interruption had never come. He knows it was inevitable, he has a young son, the chances of romance going uninterrupted are slim, still…

“We’ll be outside, Vod. Don’t take too long” Paz says it, still with that smirk attached to his face. He’s gracious enough to give Din a little more time with you, before demanding the man take his son home and tuck him in bed.

The door closes softly behind him, the moment he’s out of sight Din turns back to you, sighing out an apology, “I’m sorry, cyare…”

He presses his forehead to your own, hands smoothing across your waist and back in gentle motions. As if trying to soothe the embarrassment from you, bring you back to a sense of peace that had since been disrupted.

You push your forehead back into his and nudge his nose with your own, “Don’t be. He’s your son.” You mean it. As embarrassing as being interrupted is, as frustrating as it may be, you understand. His son is massively important, and he’s young, there are bound to be interruptions. It’s okay.

“So, we’re really doin’ this, huh? Haven’t changed your mind yet, Mesh’la?”

“Not at all…” You press forward, a soft, sweet little kiss to lips before pulling back, “You should go...Grogu needs you. Wish him a goodnight for me?” You pull away slowly, untangling yourself from his arms despite your own reluctance. You want to stay there, warm and safe forever, but Grogu needs his father and you do not have the heart to deprive him.

“Always.”

Din doesn’t want to leave you, but you make the decision for him, grabbing his hat and carefully plopping in atop his head before ushering him out the door. You watch as he takes Grogu from Paz, putting the boy onto his shoulders and walking with the man down the street.

He can’t help but look back.

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

All Works Taglist

@charradelange @belfry-bat @gabile18 @beccaboo929

Putting Down Roots Taglist

@trasheater @roxypeanut @reader-without-a-story

#din djarin x reader #din djarin / reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian reader insert #reader insert #readerinsert #western au #putting down roots #din djarinxreader #din djarin/reader #female reader #female identifying reader

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

Sweet relief

Jesse x reader

Requested by @minheoly “Can you do an angst where the reader and jesse try to make life work after the birth of JJ but they have to break up because its too much. And then they meet up again years later and have a cute reunion (as friends and or they rekindle since jesse chose to co-paeent but not be with dina . You can choose which one you like !)

Warning- ANGST, fluff

———-

Time after finding out about a new baby is exciting, especially in a time such as this where having babies isn’t as common as it was before all these monsters roamed the earth.

And it was exciting, finding out Dina was going to have a baby...with your boyfriend Jesse, for a while. You liked going to visit her as her stomach grew, you liked to feel the baby kick, but as time passed and after the baby was born, things became harder.

Jesse's time with you turned less and less. And you understood he was a parent, you could never make him choose between his kid and you. Life was just getting hard.

And in many ways Jesse didn’t seem to understand that. You both argued, yes, a lot, but he didn’t seem to grasp the difficulty of the situation. He always thought that arguing was just normal, that it was something you’d recover from, but you were getting tired. It just wasn’t working for you anymore. As much as you loved him, you just couldn’t keep going anymore. You needed to end things with him.

It was for the best, for him and you.

You were anxious to end things, but it needed to be done. And like the many times before he came home late, he walked through the door and jumped slightly as he saw you waiting for him in the living room. He put his things away and approached you, not noticing the almost grim expression on your face, he tried to press a kiss on your cheek, but you moved your head away to avoid the gesture, instantly making him catch onto your mood and sigh at what he thought was coming.

“Look, y/n, I’m not in the mood today, let’s just leave it for tomorrow.” He pulls away and turns to walk to your shared room, but you stop him before he disappears inside.

“It’s not that,” you sigh, sitting up right and then leaning forward, unable to even get comfortable with the weight on your shoulders. “Jesse we need to talk...about us.”

Jesse turns around and leans by the corner of the wall under the hallway entrance, hiding his expression by the shadow of the darkness casted from the hall.

“I love you,” you speak truthfully, titling your head up to see him looking down and crossing his arms over his chest. “But what we have going on, our relationship isn’t working anymore.”

“What do you mean?” He queries, keeping his gaze downcasted.

You stand up and keep looking at him, taking a step closer to him to see him better with the light shining across him. “I just mean that I...I’m breaking up with you.”

Jesse's eyes widen and he snaps his head to look up at you. He unfolds his arms and looks at you in disbelief. He parts his lips to argue, but he ends up staring at you, mouth agape.

“We just aren’t on the same page anymore, we’re both in different chapters of our lives and I need to move on my own. Try to figure life out without you.”

“But, I love you,” he protests, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you, making you take one back and be partially disguised by the shadows on the room's corner. “I still want to be with you, I still want to make things work. Why this sudden need to end us?”

“Because,” you sigh, “we aren’t working anymore Jesse, you’re always busy and away. We hardly spend time together and when we do it’s just to argue. I don’t want to live like that anymore.” You argue, feeling your eyes sting with mixed emotions flowing through you. “I try to make things work, I try to make a simple day special, but it never works.”

“That’s because I have a kid to take care of, y/n.” Jesse argues, “I have expeditions to plan and go to, I come home tired.”

“And all I want is you to just give me a little bit of attention, Jesse, that’s all I ask for and right now I know you can’t do that.” You take a step towards him and feel your throat burn with the yearn to cry, keeping your emotions hidden by the shadows, noticing his tears gleam in his eyes. “And I understand your priorities, I can’t and won’t make you choose. Ever. Which is why I’m ending things.”

“But—”

“Yeah I know,” you interject, placing your hands on your hips and expressing a deep shaky sigh. “I love you too, but it’s for the best, I know you know that.”

Tears roll down your eyes and you hear him take a step back to the entrance of the hall, dropping his head and hiding his face.

“If that’s what you want….I won’t stop you, even if I want to.”

You nod slowly, beginning to walk towards the front door and only stopping before opening it to grab your jacket, looking over your shoulder one last time to see Jesse's tears glisten by the light shining across him. He made sure not to look at you, probably trying to hide the fact that he was crying, but you had caught his emotions and didn’t call him on it. Instead you let your own tears continue to flow down and you added one last comment before leaving.

“I love you. I always will.”

——

*FIVE YEARS LATER*

“Hi Ellie,” you greet warmly with a bright grin on your lips. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, you sucker, where the hell have you been?” She blurted.

You shrug and begin to follow beside her as she walks you towards her home. “Trying to just live.”

“Away from us? For five years?” She probes.

Again you shrug and just smile shyly. “I’m back now and I’ve brought JJ a present.”

Ellie smiles brighter, “oh he’ll love it.”

You slowly examine the farm and sigh with relief as you hear the animals in the distance, the wind drift past, feel the sun kiss your skin, and smell the scents of the flowers around the fields as you take in a deep breath. “I missed this place.”

“It’s amazing isn’t it.” Ellie agrees with you, “I love just admiring the scenery.” She comes to a stop and turns herself and you to admire the mountains in the distance.

“Do you come across any infected?”

She nods, “sometimes but Jesse and I take care of them.”

Jesse. Where was he?

Of course you didn’t come here expecting not to see him. It just felt strange to think you’d see him. It’s been five years. You wanted to see him, but at the same time you didn’t.

Regardless of your thoughts, you answer with a soft hum and turn your head towards the house as you see a little dark haired boy running Ellie’s way with a goofy grin on his lips.

“Hey, J.” Ellie exclaims as she opens her arms to wait for him to come running in for a big bear hug. She lifts him up and kisses his forehead. “You finally done taking your nap little man?”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking you by surprise at the sound of his voice and his clear word. “Can we go play? Daddy said to come ask you.”

“Why can’t he play?” She teases, shooting you a smug grin.

“Because he says he’s busy.”

“Busy avoiding someone?”

The little boy looks at her confused and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Ellie chuckles and changes the subject instead, turning fully to face you with JJ in arms. “JJ, this is y/n, an old friend. You met her before, but you were just a baby then.”

The little boy drifts his gaze to you and smiles kindly, waving and greeting you. “Hi, I’m JJ.”

You match his grin and wave back. “I’m y/n. I heard it was your birthday so I brought you this,” you hand him a wrapped box and he takes it with overwhelming joy.

“What do you say?” Ellie questions him.

“Thank you!”

Ellie turns towards her home and looks over her shoulder to point her head towards her house. “Come on.”

You sigh and hesitate but nod nonetheless, proceeding to follow her towards her home, but stopping as Jesse walked out to the front porch with Dina following behind him. At the sight of you, she smiles at you and waves, walking quickly down the stairs and meeting you halfway to throw her arms around you. “Y/N!”

You avert Jesse's lingering gaze and return her embrace and her excitement. “Hey, it’s so good to see you!”

“Where have you been?” She asks as she pulls away, grabbing a hold of your shoulders tightly.

“Oh you know living.”

“Oh well we’ve missed you.”

You smile softly, “I’ve missed you all too.”

Dina turns around and hooks her arm with yours to begin to pull you inside. Stopping at top of the porch as Jesse stayed by the door. He averted your gaze but Dina left you there in front of him and pulled Ellie and JJ with her.

“Hey,” you sigh.

His dark eyes stay on the ground but slowly drift up to you to offer you a tight lipped smile. “Hello, y/n.”

“It’s good to see you’re doing good.”

“You too.”

You step back and stand where the sun hits your skin, you clasp your hands together and offer him a sweet smile. “I-I’ve missed you, y’know.”

Jesse straightens out his shoulders and looks at you with parted lips, he stays silent for a while and then walks down the small flight of stairs, waiting for you on the ground. You don’t hesitate to follow after him, falling by his side and remaining silent for a while until he spoke up.

“You came for me?”

You scoff, “that’s only half of it.”

“Wow,” He teases with a playful grin, “you just keep hurting me.”

You shake your head and can't help the grin. “You look good. You’ve gained more muscle.”

Jesse puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs nonchalantly. “What can I say? It’s been five years.” He looks at you and from the corner of your eyes you see his smile shine even brighter by the light of the bright sun in the sky. “You look good too. What are you doing back?”

“Well I was in town and I do plan to stay long term. I’ve found myself and decided it’s time to go home.”

Jesse nods and you look at him with a small assuring smile.

“How have you been?”

“Good,” he assures you, “you know taking care of JJ, surviving. What about you? Have you been...alone this whole time?”

“Yep,” you nod, “you?”

“Yeah just me and my little man.”

“That’s good,” you mutter, disguising your relief for the answer he’d given you. “Do you—”

“I've been waiting for you,” Jesse cuts you off, turning away to look at the green field. “I understood why you left, it took me a while to understand, but I do and I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I still love you til this day.”

You grin and stop, seeing him stop and turn to face you. You express a shaky sigh and then share your own feelings. “I love you too.”

Jesse grins brightly and walks towards you to pull you in for a hug that you didn’t hesitate to return, digging your head into the crook of his neck and feeling a sweet relief.

#the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagines #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou2 jesse x reader #jesse tlou #jesse the last of us #tlou jesse #the last of us jesse #tlou jesse x reader #jesse x reader #tlou imagines #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou ellie #tlou Dina #JJ tlou

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svtskneecaps · 4 years

Text

you mean the world to me

(gender neutral) reader x wonwoo

genre: fluff + angst; words: 7k

(i’ve found i write for wonwoo in times of academic panic and if ever there was a time of academic panic, this is it)

You didn’t see Wonwoo at all on the morning everything changed. His side of the bed was empty when you got out of the shower, and your keys were missing from the hook. Maybe that was your first clue that something was up. His set still hung there innocently, the tiny bear charm you’d gotten him on your two year anniversary swinging lightly on the breeze from the AC unit.

You shrugged and picked up the keys. This wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed the wrong set, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

(your second clue was that the door was unlocked)

You called him on your lunch break to tease him about the keys, but it went to voicemail. That in itself wasn’t odd; usually if he was in a frenzy working on some idea he’d forget to check his phone, but it was sort of odd that it didn’t even ring.

You shrugged that off too. Maybe he forgot it at the apartment, and it died. He’d never forgotten it before, but there was a first time for everything.

You finally accepted something was wrong when you stopped by the bookstore with coffee and it was closed. And dark.

He always had the front light on when he was inside.

Hours later, as you paced around the apartment trying to work out whether or not to call the police, you heard the jangle of your keys in the lock. You swung the door open before he’d even unlocked it, heart in your throat.

“There you are! I was worried, where have you been, why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Your questions died in your throat as you looked him over. He looked exhausted.

“Wonwoo,” you said, softly, “are you okay?”

He visibly forced a smile. “Yeah,” he said.

You opened the door wider, and he hesitated before he came in. He hovered in the entryway, like a stranger in his own apartment (the one you picked out together).

You sat down on the couch, and he followed you to the living room, but he sat in the guest chair instead of his usual place beside you. He didn’t speak, just looked around the room as if he’d never been in it before. Finally, you were the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He looked at you, appearing to consider his words carefully (as he does, of course, he’s a songwriter).

“If you woke up in a stranger’s bed, in a life you don’t recognize, what would you do?”

You blinked. “Like those Hallmark movies?”

“Hallmark movies?”

“Yeah, it’s a huge trope in like the Christmas movies? Somebody runs into a Santa character and one way or another they make a wish and then Santa slaps them into an alternate universe where usually they’re married with several children or something, and they learn the true meaning of Christmas.” You made jazz hands.

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think Christmas is involved.”

“Are you saying you weren’t some rich businessman in your past life?” you teased. “I could see it, you know.”

“But if you were in that situation,” he pressed. “What would you do?”

You thought about that. “I guess I’d go with it,” you said. “Try to figure out who I am in the new life and make the most of it.”

“You wouldn’t try to go back?”

“I don’t see how I could figure it out, unless I recognized the Santa character on my initial run to all the places I used to know and talked to them about it.”

He groaned. “Please let’s not call them the Santa.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking until he smiled, and you relaxed.

“Well that’s what they are,” you defended, maybe a little too quickly, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Can they not be wish granters? Or guardian angels or something? Not all of the stories are to do with the true meaning of Christmas.”

You shrugged. “I know you’re the writer here but your storytelling experience pales in comparison to my extensive knowledge of Hallmark movie tropes.”

He leaned forward. “I’m a writer?”

You forced yourself to laugh like he was making a joke even though something in your chest went tight.

(he chose to sleep on the couch that night and even though you were upset that he wasn’t next to you in the bed, some strange part of you was glad for the distance)

You called out of work the next day to walk Wonwoo to the bookstore, citing stress at your significant other going missing for most of a day. Seungcheol was understanding, telling you not to worry, that he’d see you Monday.

Vernon was leaning against the wall by the door when you came up, messing with something on his phone.

“Hey,” he said, glancing at your partner. “I was worried; it’s not like you to be late.”

Wonwoo was quiet for an odd amount of time, long enough that you glanced over at him. He was staring at Vernon with some odd look in his eyes.

“We got a late start,” you finally answered for him. “After yesterday. . .” You coughed. “Anyway, you guys need any help setting up?”

“Probably, yeah, we just got a shipment of that new YA series the other day,” Vernon said. You step to one side, motioning Wonwoo up the steps to unlock the door. “Maybe you shelve those while I blow the dust off the front desk. She’s not used to being unused this long.”

You laughed, too loud. “It was a day.”

“I know, it was ages.”

(you didn’t comment on how Wonwoo had to try three keys from the ring before getting the door open, or how he looked at the inside of his own bookstore like it was a wondrous new place. Vernon didn’t seem to notice)

You dragged the box out to the shelves and started placing the books. Apparently Vernon had forgotten how well voices carried in the quiet space, because you could hear him speaking as if he were next to you when he said, “Hey, man, did you two fight?”

“What?”

You could imagine Vernon’s shrug, heard him fiddling with the crack in his phone case. “I don’t know, it’s just, usually you two are pretty much inseparable, but like, yesterday you totally go off the grid and now today there’s a whole sidewalk between you.” A floorboard creaked. “I know it’s probably not really my business, y’know since I just work the front desk and all, but, I thought I’d ask.”

The pause stretched out so long you found yourself frozen, breath caught in your lungs, hand hovering above the next book, waiting.

“I’m adjusting,” Wonwoo said finally. “I’m a different person than I was two days ago.”

It was an answer and a non-answer all at once and it implied more than it clarified. You picked up the book and slotted it onto its place in the shelf, above the carefully written label. You didn’t mention the conversation when you brought the box back. You made an excuse about going for coffee and bolted out the door.

(usually the bookstore felt welcoming, an extension of your significant other, but the atmosphere was stifling and foreign and you couldn’t stay)

Thankfully, Seokmin had the morning shift, and you arrived during a dead period. He was able to sit with you as you nursed your drink and fretted aloud over everything that happened.

“It’s like I blinked and he was a total stranger,” you said. “I don’t know what I did.”

“Maybe it wasn’t anything you did?” he offered. “Maybe he just changed.”

“It’s just so weird.” You cupped your hands around your drink. “I mean, I know people say that by the end of a long lasting relationship your significant other changes enough to be a bunch of different people, but it happened overnight. Like he went to sleep as a writer, and my--” you choke on boyfriend-- “significant other, and then he woke up and-- I mean aside from him still being named Wonwoo it’s like-- I don’t know who this man is anymore.”

“Maybe not,” Seokmin said agreeably.

“Wow,” you said, sipping your drink. “Stop hanging out with Jeonghan so much, you’re starting to sound like him.”

He laughed and nudged your shoulder. “What I’m saying is, maybe he feels strange and different, but that doesn’t have to matter. What matters is if you’re willing to find the pieces of him that you loved again. He can’t have changed that much underneath.”

He was right, no doubt. The awkward way Wonwoo had held himself the night before reminded you of the first time you’d ever really talked. He wasn’t so different, just undeveloped, like he’d jumped back in time. Like he’d crossed the multiverse from an existence where he’d never met you.

You could handle it. The situation was manageable. You could treat each interaction like you’d just met him for the first time. It could be easy, or it could be the hardest thing you’d ever faced, but you could handle it. Really.

(you texted Wonwoo asking if you should bring anything back for him and Vernon. his coffee order was different than the one you remembered)

You unlocked the door to the apartment that night. Wonwoo lingered in the hallway until you glanced back at him.

“You do anything at work today?” you asked.

He shook his head. “That office is a disaster. How did I ever find anything?”

You laughed, hanging up your keys. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying basically since we bought the place.” You almost nudged his shoulder as you passed him on your way to the kitchen, but stopped the thought before it became a motion. “Keys on the hook,” you directed, “before you forget where you set ‘em.”

It took him two tries to find the right hook, but he got it. “I had to spend most of the morning organizing everything,” he said. “There’s so much stuff in there.”

“Let the record show that I’ve been telling you this was how it was gonna end up for years.”

“That’s the most long-winded way to say ‘I told you so’ I’ve ever heard.”

“What can I say? I like the sound of my own voice.” You pulled ingredients from the cupboards. “You remember where the pans are?”

“No,” he said.

“Neat.”

Making the food was the only easy part. Sitting at the table, you were acutely aware of him, like every one of your senses was waiting for something major to happen. Nothing did, though; you ate dinner in near complete silence. It wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. The air between you felt charged like the static balls at a science fair. You wanted to bridge the gap.

Wonwoo wanted to take the couch again, but you refused.

“Your turn in the bed,” you said, shooing him away. “You and I both know that couch doesn’t do the back any favors, and it’s your apartment too.”

“You don’t have to, I can--”

“Mom said it’s my turn on the couch,” you said in a high pitched, nasal tone, and then snickered, halfheartedly throwing a pillow at him. It flopped on the floor halfway between you. “I’ll be fine.”

He hovered in the doorway a few moments more, but relented in the end. “Goodnight,” he said, and made to close the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, and then, “you mean the world to me.”

The door clicked shut. You scooped up the pillow again and dropped it and yourself on the couch.

(it really is back pain in all forms and you woke up with cramps in muscles you didn’t even know you had, but it was worth it. it was always worth it)

You spent the weekend dancing around him, like planets. Like stars. Like if you got too close it would end in catastrophe.

Sometimes you’d slip into a back and forth with him that felt so familiar you could almost forget that you hardly knew him anymore, until you’d reference an old memory and he’d give you a quizzical look. It would sting, except the old memories felt strange to you now too. You didn’t mind not thinking about them, if it meant he didn’t look at you like that. Like a stranger.

The stranger you were.

You returned to work Monday and Seungcheol swung by your desk.

“How’s your boyfriend?” he asked. “He feeling better?”

You ignored the part of your stomach that twisted hearing boyfriend (that was what he was, after all, or what he had been, before Thursday; it shouldn’t feel so strange).

“I think so,” you said, because he’d put his keys on the right hook without you needing to remind him and he knew where all the cooking utensils were without needing to ask you.

Seungcheol rested his arms on the top of your cubicle. “And you? How are you holding up?”

You felt like you were hanging on by a thread. “Fine, I think. Pretty well, all things considered.”

He looked at you with concealed concern, but seemed to understand. You didn’t want to talk about it at work, even if Seungcheol had been one of your closest friends in university.

“Well, give me a call if you ever want to talk about it,” he said, and then left, probably for his own desk.

You bolted the moment time ticked over for your lunch break.

You didn’t know if Wonwoo would want you swinging by. You didn’t know if he’d answer your call. You called anyway, even if your hands shook.

He picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” You wiped your palm on your shirt. “I’m out on lunch break; if you aren’t too busy maybe we could run get Chinese or something?”

There was a pause, and then, “Okay. Just let me make sure Vernon and Chan can handle the store.”

He met you out front, and you walked to the restaurant together.

It wasn’t too cold out, so you got the food to go and found a bench to sit at, watching people as they pass.

“You remember that game, where you pick somebody going by and try to guess what they’re doing?” you asked into the silence.

He hummed. “Maybe. Why, you want to do it now?”

You shrugged. “Might as well.”

Even though he’d seemed apprehensive, he took to the game quickly. He was the one to decide that the woman wearing heels with her paint splattered jeans was a street performer, on her way to meet up with the other members of her busking group. You countered that obviously, the man in the mask waiting impatiently to cross the street was on his way to manage a rambunctious group of idols.

“Can you imagine?” you asked, shaking your head. “Must be rough, having to keep some of those groups under control.”

Something odd tinged the edges of Wonwoo’s expression when you looked back over at him. You couldn’t tell what it was. You hadn’t been able to read his expressions for days. It should have scared you.

It didn’t.

“Must be rough,” he echoed, his voice hollow. You were caught between asking about it and pretending you hadn’t noticed when he pointed across the plaza at the fountain. “Bet that guy’s an idol.”

“Yeah?” You followed his hand to see a man standing by the fountain, staring up at the jets of water, his hands buried in the pockets of the long coat he wore.

“Yeah. He’s taking a break from the practice room to appreciate everything around him,” Wonwoo said. “He’s gonna go home to the other members of his group and they’re going to ask where he’s been and be worried.”

“What’s he going to tell them?”

Wonwoo leans back into the bench, and maybe a little bit into you.

“He’s going to tell them he was getting a new perspective,” he said. “That he’s seen life from a new angle. And. . .”

The silence stretched, but it was comfortable. His arm touched yours, resting there.

“And,” Wonwoo said, and his voice cracked, “that he missed them.”

You tore your gaze from the man at the fountain. Wonwoo stared into nothing, eyes wet.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look at you as he nodded. Maybe that was for the best. You could feel tears building in your own eyes. You didn’t even know why.

You missed them too.

The alarm on your phone went off.

“Ah,” you said. “I should get back to work.”

You stood, ignoring the chill on your arm where his had been.

“I’ll see you back at the apartment, yeah?” you said.

He looked at you, that time, standing. “Yeah,” he said.

You threw out your trash and offered him your arm gallantly. “Would you allow me to walk you back, sir?”

He laughed and tossed his own trash, taking your arm. “Sure.”

You walked him all the way back to the store, where you swept off an imaginary hat and dipped into a grossly exaggerated bow. You heard him laugh, and when you came back up he was smiling (you would do anything to see him happy).

“Alright, you’ve done your job,” he said.

You place a dramatic hand on your chest. “Are you implying that I did all that out of a sense of moral obligation?”

He snickered. “Well, when you put it that way.”

Whatever expression had made its way onto your face made him laugh, his face lighting up as he reached out for the doorway to steady himself. You broke into a smile, heart beating a little faster.

“Okay, I gotta go before I’m late.” You almost wanted to hug him goodbye, but something stopped you. You settled for a quick wave. “You mean the world to me, okay? I’ll see you after work!”

Friday, Wonwoo came in and barely hung up his keys (on the right hook) before tipping himself over the arm of the couch to flop face first into the cushions with a deep groan. You stared at his limp form from the kitchen, a tiny smile forming on your face.

“So, how was work?” you asked.

He mumbled something into the couch that might’ve been, “Peachy.” He flipped over. “Some woman decided we should be a bookstore and a coffee shop and made sure we knew it.”

You wince. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.” He ground his hands into his eyes. “I spent half my morning making sure she wasn’t taking it out on Vernon or Chan.”

“Well, if she didn’t get the kids then it’s all good.” You set down the spoon and moved into the other room, leaning on the back of the couch. “Shame Seungkwan wasn’t there, he’d have given her a real piece of his mind.”

“I would have let him. Not like I even wanted her to buy anything after she said that.” Wonwoo dropped his hands, one arm falling off the side of the couch. He gazed up at you.

“She can keep her condescending cash to herself,” you agreed, and reached out to mess with his hair.

And drew back just as quickly, your hand hardly brushing his hair before hastily retreating to grip your leg. Why did you do that? It was wrong, it was all wrong. Your face burned. You didn’t know him well enough you’d known him for years he was a stranger you’d played with his hair all the time in university, even before you’d made it official it felt wrong to do it it felt wrong to pull away--

Wonwoo sat up. “Hey, everything okay?”

“--Yeah.” You shook your head. “Just-- head rush.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” You tore yourself away from the couch, making for the counter again and ignoring the sting on your leg where you dug in your nails. You could hear him trailing you.

Wonwoo leaned on the counter as you picked up the spoon. For a moment, you thought he’d press you again.

“So,” he said, “how was work?”

Of course he wouldn’t push. He was Wonwoo.

“Fine,” you said, stirring the ramen in the bowl. “Same old story, really, except everyone was talking about the company dinner party Sunday.”

Wonwoo blinked. “You didn’t tell me there was a dinner Sunday.”

You dashed the spoon through the noodles with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary. “I didn’t want to bother you. You know, since you haven’t been feeling well this week. It didn’t seem worth adding to your plate and it doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It doesn’t seem like yours either.”

He was right; it wasn’t your scene. You always found yourself walking on eggshells every time, a glass of wine gripped in your hand that you never dared drink from out of fear of making a fool of yourself.

“It’s my job,” you said. Your next stir sent tiny dots of water into the air and you flinched back.

Wonwoo nudged you out of the way, taking up the spoon even as you pouted at him. “Well,” he said, “need a date?”

You blinked. “Are you volunteering?”

“Maybe,” he said. “You work for one of those fancy companies, right? They probably have all kinds of high society foods.”

“They do cover meal costs,” you admitted.

He scoffed. “And you were going to leave me eating ramen alone on my Sunday night?” He reached up and tousled your hair. “If you need moral support I’ll be there.”

Your heart swelled. “Jeon Wonwoo, you mean the world to me you godsend.”

He ducked his head, turning to the ramen again. “Hey, any guy would count himself lucky to be your plus one.” He nudged your elbow. “How about you grab a couple bowls out and we eat this on the couch? We can watch a movie or something.”

(you found your seat on the couch, your bowl nestled in your lap, and when he came to meet you he sat beside you)

Saturday you spent at the bookstore, shelving books, distracting Vernon, and waiting for Wonwoo to get off. Seungkwan stopped by with a deck of cards and in the spare moments between customers you played poker under the desk. Chan threatened to quit after you inexplicably bluffed him out of three rounds in a row. Vernon swore he wasn’t stacking the deck, you were just that good all of a sudden.

“It’s not possible for you to have gotten good at bluffing in under a week, it’s like you’re a totally different person,” Chan said, and he was joking but the sting and the familiarity of the words drained the blood from your face and you barely managed to play it off. The game continued, but without you.

Seokmin was sitting at a table in the coffeeshop flicking idly through a textbook. You ordered a drink and joined him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you said.

“Really? Because you only come in here alone when it isn’t.”

You huffed. “It’s nothing. I just needed an escape.” The bookstore felt more welcoming again, more like Wonwoo (Wonwoo with his arm touching yours on the bench, Wonwoo pressed against your side as you play fight over who gets to cook dinner, Wonwoo with his head on your shoulder as he sleeps through the emotional climax of Finding Dory, his breathing a steady breeze against your neck) but something in Chan’s words. . .

You’d recoiled.

“I’m not--” you gripped your cup, thinking carefully about your words. “I’m not a different person, am I?”

“As far as I know you’re the same person you’ve always been.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I mean-- have I changed, like-- my personality, my little ticks. Any of that?”

Seokmin looked at you (he always looked like he knew more than he said; probably it came from being top of his class all through school but still. . .). “Maybe,” he said. “I’d say you’re the same you, but maybe they knew a different you.”

Your head slipped to meet the table before you could catch it. “Seokmin you know I’m not smart enough for riddles.”

“It doesn’t have to be a riddle.” He laughed. “Everybody has a picture in their mind of everybody else, and it’s never the same as what actually exists.”

“Philosophy is ruining you,” you said. “Stop hanging out with Jeonghan, he’s turning you into a paradox.”

“What I’m saying is, just because someone thinks you’re different than you were, that doesn’t mean you actually are. Maybe you’ve just been different this whole time, and now they finally noticed.”

“Maybe.”

He had a point, once you stripped away the philosophic layers. It was just the phrasing.

It’s like you’re a totally different person. In under a week.

Last week, everything had changed.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but you sipped your coffee anyway. Seokmin asked about the company dinner, and you tried to forget about it.

You went shopping with Wonwoo after he closed up the store, trying to find something business casual for the dinner.

“And nothing in the closet would work for this because?” you asked, flicking through the rack of button ups.

“Because it’s a special occasion,” he said, holding a suit jacket against his chest and then hanging it up again. “We can’t wear anything we’ve already worn.”

You snorted. “What are we, movie stars on the red carpet?”

“No,” he said. “I mean, if you wanted, maybe, but no.” He glanced up. “Anytime is an excuse to treat ourselves.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You trailed your arm across a line of ties, letting the material fall over your finger. Your motion halted over a tie. “Oh, this’ll be impressive.” You held it up for him to see.

“Nice,” he said. “The bundles of bills will surely let your boss know you’re in this for what really matters.”

You pointed at him. “Exactly what I was thinking.” You looped it around your head, fingers pinching it together. “Maybe I could wear it like one of those guys in the post apocalyptic movies, that way they know I’m willing to go all the way.”

“Now you’re talking.” He hung up the jackets and came over, taking another tie off the rack, this one a soft coral pink. “Or maybe, you put this one on. . .”

He looped it around your neck and tied it properly.

“Where’d you learn how to tie a tie?” you asked, a laugh bubbling out of you.

“I felt bad making the stylists do it for me all the time,” he said, offhandedly.

The wrongness niggled at you.

You turned to the mirror nearby, playing with the ends of the tie. “I don’t know,” you said.

“What, you don’t like the color?”

“No, pink is a great color.” You surveyed yourself. “I just think I’d want a little more color to my outfit than a tie.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo said, moving to stand behind you, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder as he studied your reflection. “You’re the business one, we want to make sure you pop.” His eyes lit up. “I know.”

He didn’t quite have it the first few times, but finally, after taking over a changing room and trying on enough outfits that the both of you had nearly filled the reject cart, you walked out of the store with your purchases on your arms.

You stopped for takeout on the way back, too tired to cook, and ate dinner in a comfortable silence, leaning against each other and the couch as the TV played the weather forecast. When he dozed off against your neck, you forced yourself up.

“Come on sleepyhead,” you said, pulling him up with you. He made a few affronted noises but didn’t argue as you stole his trash and stowed the leftovers in the fridge and all but carried him into the bedroom.

“Dramatic.” You clicked your tongue, dropping him in the bed and moving to grab your sleepwear and get changed. His hand caught your wrist.

“You don’t have to take the couch tonight,” he said, and his voice was much clearer now.

“Well I’m not about to let you take it,” you said. “It’s my turn.”

“No, I meant--” he cut himself off.

“Oh,” you said.

“If you want,” he said hurriedly. “If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Um-- if you’re okay with it,” you said, and your face burns and he looks kind of like he’s in the same boat and he drops your wrist.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, and made for the bathroom.

He was changed when you finished in the bathroom and you climbed into bed beside him. It was strange, sharing, even though you knew you’d done it before maybe. There was an ocean of bed between you that you didn’t dare cross.

You closed your eyes. “Goodnight, Wonwoo,” you said, the words echoing off the wall you faced instead of him. Then, quieter, “You mean the world to me.”

(it’s the best rest you’ve gotten in what feels like forever; you wake up in a tangle of limbs but neither of you are in a hurry to pull away)

You idled outside the building, picking at the sleeves of the shirt you’d picked out the day before.

“Ready?” Wonwoo asked, making eye contact. You nodded, eyes slipping down to rest on the pink tie, the same pink as you’d chosen your shirt to be. He held out his arm, like a gentleman, and you took it.

The room rented for the dinner is as stuffy as you expected. You made small talk with coworkers you’d only ever seen for five minutes at the printer, and played the people watching game with Wonwoo in hushed tones whenever you got a spare moment. Seungcheol swung by a few times to check in and spill a bit of corporate gossip in a hushed voice, both with and without Joshua by his side.

“It’s a game we play,” Seungcheol explained when Wonwoo asked about it. “We make small talk together, he sends me to ‘get drinks’ and then talks me up behind my back.” Seungcheol glanced over at Joshua, where he was chatting calmly with two members of the board of directors. “He’s really good at it.”

Your social battery died about halfway through, but you forced yourself to soldier on. It probably wouldn’t look good if you left early. Hopefully no one would notice as your responses grew shorter and your smiles more strained.

Wonwoo took your hand after you laughed a little too loud at a coworker’s joke, and then turned to you when they had said their goodbyes to do another sweep around the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “Is it time to go?”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t leave early.”

“We’ve been here more than half the time, I think we’re allowed.” He folded your hand between his, rubbing it soothingly. “We can use me as an excuse, say I got tired. Please don’t force yourself to stay; I can tell something’s wrong.”

You kind of wanted to cry, and you didn’t know if it was the stress of the evening or what. “I don’t deserve you,” you said.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you in. “You deserve the world,” he said softly into your ear.

And then you left the party.

You stopped at the park, instead of going directly home, sitting at the fountain’s edge.

“You remember when we got takeout?” he asked.

You did. “When we first played the people watching game, right?” you asked, and stopped. That hadn’t been the first time; you’d played it all the time before hadn’t you?

“Yeah,” he said. “You dropped me off.”

“You got really into the game,” you said. “That idol guy’s backstory was impressively complex.”

He laughed, soft and fond, and yet also flat. Like there was a layer of irony you hadn’t caught.

“When you dropped me off at the bookstore, you said that-- you said ‘you mean the world to me’. And-- we’re dating, at least according to Vernon, and, this whole time you never said ‘I love you’.” He looked at you. “Why is that?”

You open your mouth, the answer of a shared back and forth you two had used since university sitting on your tongue, but it didn’t come out. You just closed your mouth.

Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t something you’d said since university. You-- hadn’t known him in university.

“I’m not sure,” you said, bewildered because it was true. Why did you say that?

“It’s just stuck with me,” he said. “Ever since that first day, when I didn’t--” he cut himself off. “It was like I’d been dropped into this world from another one,” he said. “I didn’t know anything, and-- you were a total stranger.”

Another world. Total stranger. The words vibrated against the walls of your skull. You’d thought of him like a stranger too, even though you knew him. At least you thought you did. But you didn’t know him in university, you didn’t know him at all.

“But, as time went by, and I got time to know you, I realized something,” he said, and he took your hand in both of his. “And I don’t think we’re strangers anymore.”

Strangers, you were strangers. What had you thought, that first day? How did you even know it as the first day, beyond Wonwoo’s strange actions? You weren’t thinking of it like the first day of Wonwoo. It was the first day at all. You didn’t know him.

“I guess. . .” he trailed off. “I guess what I want to say, is just that I. . .”

He wasn’t your housemate or your boyfriend or the guy you knew from the frat. He wasn’t-- he was--

Oh god.

You tore your hand from his.

Everything went deathly silent.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Seokmin’s voice rang out.

Your head jerked up.

Time had frozen around you. Wonwoo still sat by the fountain, looking in your direction with an expression of distress, his hand reaching after you. You scrambled back. He didn’t move.

“I guess this means you figured it out?” Seokmin asked.

You looked at him. “What have I done?”

“A wish was made,” he said. “I granted it.”

You blinked. A flash, staring up into the sky from the window; “I wish I could tell him what he means,” you said to the stars, “every night. I wish I could tell him, he means the world to me.”

“You’re Santa.”

Seokmin made a face. “I’m with Wonwoo, let’s not call it that.”

“And Wonwoo knew the whole time that this was wrong?” you asked. He nodded. “Why? Why not me? It was my wish.”

He smiled. “Wishes don’t always work the way you expect them to.”

You shook your head. “Send him back now.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter why Seokmin, just do it!”

He blinked at you. “For the record, I’m not actually Seokmin. I’m just borrowing his appearance, to keep an eye on you.”

You dug your fingers into the dirt, like a reminder it was still there. “And Seungcheol? Vernon? Chan?”

“Projections. Every person you’ve met here is a projection.”

“At least you didn’t abduct them.” You stopped. “At least I didn’t.” You shook your head. “But it’s done now. You have to send him back. He didn’t ask to be here, he didn’t want to be here!”

“And if he doesn’t want to go back?”

“Of course he wants to go back!” you shout. “Have you not seen the way he cares for the members? You said you were keeping an eye on us, did you miss that day at the park? He misses them! And I dragged him away!” You shoot to your feet, throat beginning to close up. “You have to fix this-- I have to fix this!”

The thing which was not Seokmin looked at you. “Don’t you wonder what he was going to say to you, before everything clicked?”

You swallowed. “Whatever it was, it was built on a lie. And it’s a lie I refuse to keep living.”

Not-Seokmin shrugged. “Then turn and look him in the eyes and wish everything back,” he said.

You did.

(if you cried when you woke up in a single bed you recognized as truly your own, you were the only one to know)

Wonwoo was oddly quiet in broadcasts from that point on. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk about him anymore. Someone asked you on Twitter if you had something against him.

No, you’d responded, he just reminds me of a recent ex. Every time I see him I think about them and it’s just too painful right now. I don’t hate Wonwoo.

Two days later, the Seventeen Twitter account dmed you.

I need to talk to you.

You sent, I’m sorry.

You deactivated.

You almost gave away your concert tickets, but you’d been planning on going with a friend before everything and you wouldn’t let them down. You went despite all your misgivings. With the stage lights on full blast, there was no way he’d be able to see you in the audience. You were safe, with your seats halfway up the concert hall, half a mile from the stage.

And then Seventeen, in the middle of their set, hopped off the stage, into the audience.

You’d wondered why certain aisles had a security detail around them.

If it wasn’t the middle of a song, you’d ask the people farther down the row to switch with you but you didn’t dare move around; it had been drilled into you that doing so during a performance was disrespectful. You were the seat on the aisle, and Wonwoo was on his way up, his eyes scanning the crowd with a sharp determination even as he continued his verse flawlessly.

Would looking away be more conspicuous than staring?

Should you jump to blend with the energy of the crowd, or freeze so he didn’t look?

It didn’t matter.

He’d seen you.

He took the stairs two, three at a time, stopping on the landing beside you, turning to face the rest of the hall again as his verse finished, and then he glanced at you.

The spotlight shone on his face.

“Please don’t leave,” he mouthed, or maybe said, but the combined roar of the crowd and the blood rushing in your ears drowned it out completely.

And then he turned to complete the performance, leaving a few fans looking at you wistfully.

(several of them came up after the concert to congratulate you, to gush about how lucky you were, to speculate about what happened and laugh about it; blessedly no one was openly rude about it)

You sat on the edge of a fountain, in the plaza a block from the back door of the concert hall, fidgeting with your sleeves. You didn’t know if you were crazy. You probably were crazy, waiting for him. He’d be livid. He had to be livid. He’d never forgive you.

But whatever closure would mean for him, you’d give it to him.

Anything.

The back door of the concert hall slammed open and a figure came bolting out towards you. They skidded to a halt at the edge of the fountain, and you could see Wonwoo’s eyes over the mask.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to stay,” he said.

“I wasn’t either.”

“I’m glad you did.” He sat down on the edge of the fountain. “I really need to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, before he could get upset.

He blinked. “For what?”

“For making the stupid wish and dragging you into an alternate universe, and then not even remembering doing it.” You rubbed your arm, staring at the brickwork. “I mean I was basically gaslighting you the entire time.”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” he said.

You toed the crack between two stones. “What all do you know?”

“How that world worked. How I got there. How I got back.” You saw him move, reaching out like he was going to take your hand, and then stopping himself in the middle. “I’m not upset with you.”

“You should be.” The words dropped out of your mouth. “You should hate me. You-- I basically ruined your life.”

“You didn’t ruin my life, you showed me what I was missing,” he said. “You remember when we played that people watching game? What I said about that man?”

You picked at a loose thread in your sleeve. “He. . . he was taking a break from the practice room.”

You saw him nod from the corner of your eye. “And I said he was getting a new perspective.”

“He’s seeing life from a new angle,” you said.

“It was as much my wish as it was yours,” Wonwoo said. “I felt lost. I didn’t know where to go next or what to focus on, and it wasn’t something the members could help with, but it was something you could help with. And you did.”

You felt numb. A wish was made. Not-Seokmin had given one last riddle, one you were finally understanding.

“You add a dimension to my life that I was missing,” he said. “Just, please-- please don’t leave me again.”

You looked at him, finally, sitting there on the edge of the fountain, his hair a mess from the performance.

“I didn’t want to leave,” you said. “I just-- I had to let you go.”

“You don’t have to here,” he said. “I know I don’t run a bookstore, and we didn’t meet in college, but--”

“I didn’t fall for you because you ran a bookstore,” you said. “The bookstore was window dressing. You’re you no matter what career you have.”

On impulse, you reached out. He met you in the middle and you laced your fingers through his.

“I love you,” you said.

He clasped his other hand around yours and lifted it to his lips, his eyes squeezed up in such overwhelming happiness you thought you’d cry.

“I love you too.”

#caratwritersclub #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #listen i don't know how to tag and i refuse to learn now on principle #i'll throw words into these bitches with reckless abandon and one day #i'll die

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Secrets ~ 5

Warnings: noncon sexual acts later in series.

This is dark!Bucky and dark!Steve and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Notes:

So, I managed to come back to this one. So sorry for taking so long! My mind wanders easily but I really do enjoy this series!! I'm hoping to get a few more chapters done in the next week or two if I can. As it is, my time is a bit up in the air with a looming lockdown.

That being said, I love you all, I thank you for your patience and feedback as always! Please don't shy away in the comments and I promise to keep doing what I can for all my ongoing series.

As for tumblr, I’m just kinda in and out. I’m not here here in a way as I’m trying just to stay sane.

You sat across from Barnes. Rigid, as you kept in mind not to slouch. Tense, as you brooded over your hopeless situation. Silent, as you inhaled the scent of the savoury meal but found yourself curtailed at every attempt to eat. His eyes followed every move and you were met with either a tskk or a remonstrance; ‘not that fork’, ‘small bites, smaller sips’, ‘smile’, ‘keep your lips closed’, ‘elbows off the table’...

You sighed as your last attempt to sate your growling stomach ended in another reproach. His words, his even voice almost taunting, stoked your anger and made it difficult for you to follow his direction. You sat back and peered up and down the long table, the chairs empty and table cloth crisp and white.

“How much longer do I have to do this?” You bemoaned. “I’m hungry. Let me eat.”

“Duchess, you will be expected to act as a lady for the rest of your life.” His mouth twitched at one corner as if he would grin. “Do not be unhappy with me, it was not I who neglected your education.”

Your nostrils flared and you looked at the longest knife among the row. He chuckled and you squinted over at him. You sighed.

“Do not be a child, Duchess. When you are queen, you will be the beacon for all other women at court. And if you cannot set a good example, they will make sure you know it.” He pushed his shoulders back.

“I don’t care about those women. I don’t know them.” You sniffed. “This isn’t my home.”

“It is.” He said plainly. “As close to as you’ll have given that yours would be entirely lost to you.”

You stared at him. You tilted your head and frowned. “You don’t realise how absurd this is? Do you really think I could ever want to be here?”

“If you don’t even give it a chance, then no.” He shrugged, “But you haven’t. You were in school, you liked it?”

You ran your tongue along your teeth and nodded.

“We have tutors; the finest money can find. If you are agreeable, your husband might be too.” He ran his thumb along the line of his palm. “You like museums, well we have one of the grandest in the world. You must know of it given your interests.”

You looked away. It wasn’t the same. What would you do with an education if you were trapped in a royal marriage? How could you enjoy a museum if you just went to look? Your former life felt so far away, yet that before you, felt even further. You weren’t a queen; you didn’t want to be a queen.

“So what? I’ll beg for scraps from my husband? 'Oh, please, I would love to visit the library today, my king. May I? May I really?'” You spat as you clutched your hand together dramatically.

“The King can be amenable but if you approach him with the same attitude as you have me, this marriage will be exactly what you expect it to be. Perhaps you might consider how you could make it at least tolerable?”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You want me to change everything about myself; how I walk, how I sit, how I dress, how I eat. That is not tolerable.”

His lips parted and he tore his eyes away from you as he thought. “Well, to be frank, the king won’t care what you tolerate and he does not tolerate much. So whether you wish it or not, you will at least pretend to change.”

“Mmm, sure.” You huffed.

“I am offering you advice and it is good advice. The king… He will not be as patient as me. If you embarrass him in front of his court, in front of the world, you won’t ever forget it. He’ll make sure of it.”

“You know, the more you tell me about him, the better he sounds,” you said dryly, “A hell of a catch.”

Bucky exhaled slowly and a deep line formed in his cheek. “Go on. Take the salad fork-- no, wrong one.”

You bared your teeth as you blinked at the line of forks. “I’m not very hungry anymore.” You grumbled.

“Hungry or not, you need to learn how to hold a fork, Duchess,” he rebuked, “Sit up straight.”

��

When you were finally allowed to retire from your first day at Regia, you were exhausted. Your chambers were welcoming as you left your personal tormentor, Barnes, without and trudged over to the bed. As you dropped onto the bouncy mattress, you looked around and your irritation piqued again.

Your suitcase was gone. Only your toiletries remained in their beige leather pouch and a stack of books. You frowned and stood reluctantly. Your neck and shoulders ached from the tension nestled there from a long day of Barnes’ tutelage and his nuisance.

You grabbed the first book, the title wrought in gold on the fading spine; ‘Queens of Astrania’. You fluttered through the pungent pages and took the next; ‘A Lady’s Place’. You set that one aside and scowled as you went down the stack; ‘Manners and Etiquette’, ‘The Provinces of Astrania; Lands and Rights’, ‘Astrania the Bold; A Kingdom Without End’, ‘Queen Loren: The Royal Mother’....

You left them in the pile and covered your face with your hands as you resisted the urge to scream. You turned away and went to the dresser. You slid open the drawer but it wasn’t your clothing inside. Instead of your plain cotton tee and jogging pants, you found satin and silk night clothes in every cut. You opened the drawer beside it and found bras and panties you’d never have wasted a penny on.

You slammed the drawer shut and went to the closet with the thick wooden doors etched with curlicues. Inside, blouses, skirts, and pants hung, pressed and pretty. The wardrobe of a lady. You could see Princess Kate in your head wearing any piece of it and yet, each garment looked sharper, more modern than the British fashion.

You shut the doors and crossed your arms. Three weeks. Well, one day down. That was all you had left. You thought of the women who had come before you; the medieval maidens, the romantic ladies in their puffed sleeves, the Victorian stiff neck marms. Had they wanted it? Or had they been trapped like you? Did they feel the same hopeless despair?

You went to the window and looked out at the green lawns painted in silver moonlight. Clouds framed the shining crescent, the sky streaked in greys and blacks that sent a shiver through you. The gates stood closed and ominous at the end of the winding drive and trees stood sentinel around the palace.

Once, you’d dreamed of visiting a royal home. Your love of history held you reverent in awe of the remarkable architecture, the years marked by renovations and the contrast of styles often found between one room and the next. Visions of spectres stirred your imagination and you thought of the dead haunting the corridors as they retraced the footsteps of their existence.

No, it all just felt horribly empty. These places were prisons. History didn’t need to be kept alive, only remembered as an omen for those living. Let it go but do not forget.

You drew away from the window and slumped in the upholstered chair not far from it. Barnes had your phone, you didn’t expect to get it back. It wouldn’t be of much use. As much as you missed your mom, you had nothing left to say to her and hearing her voice would only make you feel worse. She would only remind you of what she’d done; of the secrets she’d kept from you.

It was only you and the whispers of the dead. They carried on the breeze outside the window as if to warn you. ‘You are one of us…’

👑

The second day went much the same. Barnes woke you early, his gaze tinged with judgement as he chose your outfit for the day and bid you to pay attention. You ate, slowly and with the same endless critique, and he took you to the palace library and sat you down with a large volume. He paced as you read and occasionally listed off all that you had yet to learn. In all your years of school, you’d never had a teacher as overbearing and relentless as him.

When you were thoroughly restless from the tight font and stiff pages, he took you for a walk around the lawns and pointed out the statues of your predecessors. When you returned to the palace, he gave you another lesson in posture, a book on your head as he had you strut across the foyer over and over again. When you were dizzy from the repetition, it was time for another meal and you growled at your cutlery in frustration.

The days went on as such. You snapped at Barnes when he breathed down your neck but he never again bent you over and spanked you like a child. Instead, he merely grinned and thought of another ridiculous activity. But when he caught you with a sandwich secreted from the house staff and your hand streaked in mustard, he looked close to another lashing. He only took the last of your crust and scrubbed your fingers himself.

On the fifth morning. You woke with difficulty. You were exhausted and angry and about to give up. Barnes tore away your duvet and tossed a dress at you. He stood before the rack of dresses you’d gone through on your first day. You groaned and snatched up the petal pink swathe and rolled out of bed.

You dressed as he waited in the hall and you stumbled out in the pair of steep heels. You held in a yawn as he bent his arm and you merely stared at it in detest.

“Duchess,” he sighed, “Let’s not do this today. We have a packed schedule.”

“What is it? Am I to balance on one foot and recite the royal family tree?” You spat.

He snorted and shook his head. He took your arm and hooked it through his own. He turned and led you down the hall. “Well, no, but I fear you might look just as silly.”

You narrowed your eyes and your stomach knotted. You wondered at his meaning but went along with him. Your days at Regia still felt like a dream; you just couldn’t accept that any of it was real.

He led you down the stairs, with some trouble, as your ankle bent and you caught the railing in panic. He righted you and continued lithely down the staircase. Your heels clicked on the marble as he turned you and guided you to the tall doors that opened into a grand ballroom. Long tables lined the perimeter with straight back chairs and portraits of women long dead and their respective husbands hung from the walls. The high ceiling was pointed and arched in the style of the seventeenth century and velvet curtains were tied back with tassles at the other end of the chamber.

A woman in black, a stiff white collar poking out from beneath her blazer, and a prim twist to her lips, stood expectantly at the centre. She held a stick that reminded you of a 1900s schoolhouse teacher and her round framed glasses magnified her cold glare.

“Priscilla,” Barnes released you and approached the woman. He greeted her in all courtesy, a small nod and a kiss on her hand. “Timely, as always.”

“Lord Barnes,” she arched a brow and her hazel eyes peered past him at you. “Duchess?” It was barely a question as she bent her knee and gave a stoic bow.

“The very one,” Barnes affirmed.

“An honour,” she stepped past Barnes. “I was present when your mother and her father visited our kingdom all those years ago.”

Your lip curled and you looked between her and Barnes. “I never knew my grandfather. Apparently, I never knew my mother either.”

Her eyes rounded and her face contorted as if she had tasted lemon juice. She looked at Barnes who shook his head.

“You know the nobility well, Pris,” he said, “They have the temperance of toddlers.”

“Wouldn’t you know it, my lord,” she quipped. “A blessing to her it is not Austin in my place.”

“I made certain it wasn’t,” Barnes approached you and took your hand, “I do appreciate your expedience.”

“I would never disobey the king,” she held the stick horizontal in both hands, “Very well, first position.”

Barnes turned you and drew you to him. His other hand went to your back. He held you to him, a small space between your bodies and you wobbled on your high heels.

“What the--” His sharp look kept your form profanity.

“You must learn to dance,” he said, “And if you can barely stand straight, I trust we have much to do.”

Priscilla came around you and touched your shoulders with her stick. “Head up,” she chided, “Straight, straight, straight.” She tapped the tip along your spine. “You are lucky.” She girded, “To learn with such a partner. Barnes… I hope that even you might sharpen this one.” She tutted, “There is much work to be done.”

“Would you stop that?” You tore your hand from Barnes’ and wipped at the stick against your back, “I’m not a dog.”

“Mmm,” she hummed and smacked your ass with the stick as Barnes took your hand again, “Move your feet.”

She rescinded the stick and tapped the butt of it on the floor as she began to count. You trod on your partner’s toe as he led you. You looked down at your feet and he hissed, “Don’t look down.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You stomped his shoe again. “Or do you like broken toes?”

“Just back, forward, side, side, back…” He raised your hand. “Stand straight. Head high.”

“I hate you,” you snipped as you scrambled to keep the beat.

“A good thing you are not my fiancee, then,” he smirked.

“We can agree on that,” you sneered but found yourself pressed against him as you tripped. He caught you and chuckled as he stood you up straight.

“Graceful as ever,” he kidded, “My apologies, Priscilla, it is going to be a long day.”

“You’re apologizing to her?” You grimaced, “What about me?”

“You’ve tread on me nearly a dozen times, so far,” he turned you, “I would say you owe me a few ‘sorries’ yourself.”

“I’d say we’re even,” you snipped. “My freedom, your toes.”

His lips curved again as he watched you. You looked past him and focused on the numbers; one, two, three, and four… Your gaze caught on a queen with sad eyes painted in fading pigments. She had no husband beside her, only an urn on a plinth. A chill rippled through you as you were spun away from the sight. For all its radiance, there was something very grim about this palace of betrothed.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #fic #series #dark!fic #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #secrets #dark fic #mcu #royal au #au #marvel #captain america #king!steve

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

bad ideas have good results

summary: you put yourself in the position for trouble the moment you agreed to be roommates with Mikko.

warnings: mentions of sex, like one swear, and worst of all—its unedited

word count: 3.4k

You knew it was a bad idea.

It was truly a terrible, horrible, awful idea.

But you were kind of desperate, so you threw your concerns to the wind and moved in with Mikko Rantanen.

It was beneficial to both of you, he had an extra room and with his busy schedule, you helped keep the place in one piece and took over some of the more domestic aspects. In return, you didn’t have to live on the streets—or worse yet, move back in with your parents.

At first, it was nice. Mikko was a total gentleman and an absolute sweetheart. It probably helped that you were friends with him before moving in, but you got along with him fantastically. Movie nights on the couch, dinners cooked together, you had even taken to writing him little notes of encouragement and leaving them where he’d see them before going on roadies or a particularly stressful game. You knew you were towing a dangerous line in your heart, suddenly seeing him in a less than platonic way more and more.

But then Andre insisted that everyone go to the bars to celebrate a decisive four-zero win over Vegas.

Mikko was more clingy that night, and though he usually kept a protective eye on you, he was practically glued to your side. And as the night went on and the drinks kept coming, the handsier Mikko got. His hand started innocently on your side, but halfway through the night it slipped low on your waist, and when you were in the back on an Uber together, it fell suspiciously high on your thigh. And by the time you made it back to your shared apartment, he was pulling you in the direction of his room. And as much as you wanted, you couldn’t blame him completely; you went willingly.

And you went willingly each time after it.

If you were unsure about your feelings for the blond before your friends with benefits relationship started, you knew for a fact now. You were head over heels for him. You didn’t miss the irony, how he was climbing into your bed nearly every night and cooking meals with you during the day, yet he still introduced you as his friend. The relationship that you so desperately wanted was so close, yet just out of your reach.

“You did this to yourself.”

“Thanks, Nina.” You huffed, sipping your mimosa dejectedly. Your friend wasn’t wrong, but you would have liked a little sympathy from her, considering brunch had been your idea. She just shrugged, an impish smile on her face.

“Seriously, what did you think would happen when you moved in with a ridiculously hot professional athlete? That you wouldn’t fall for him?” She continued, and you dropped your head into your hands in embarrassment. “You’ve been hooking up with him for weeks, of course you’d catch feelings.”

“I—” You started, but an entirely too familiar voice cut in, making your stomach twist and your heart jump into your throat.

“You’ve been hooking up with Mikko?” Mel Landeskog. Of course. She was grinning brightly at you, a mixture of shock and knowing on her face and a baby on her hip. You groaned, dropped your head back into your hands, again, because apparently you couldn’t have a nice brunch without being embarrassed countless times. “I knew it!”

“You cannot tell Gabe, like, under any circumstances.” Your voice was low and steady, and some of the mirth slipped from Mel’s expression. The idea of Gabe, or anyone really, finding out about the nature of your relationship with his teammate made your skin crawl.

One night, after he slipped into your bed for some post-loss activities to cheer him up, you had asked if he talked about you in the locker room with the other guys, the grotesque way they did in movies. He had scrunched his face up in confusion at the idea, assuring you that he never talked about you or anyone else that way, that what happened between you and him stayed between you and him. That was the moment, you decided, that you were officially screwed. The moment when you realized you had fallen for your roommate.

“So are you and Mikko dating?” Mel asked, a grin on her face that had you blushing. You shook your head quickly, watching as her gleeful expression melted into one of confusion. “Why not?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Nina added in, and you shot her a pointed look. She knew very well why you weren’t dating Mikko—he didn’t see you as anything more than his roommate that he hooked up with often. It was a live-in friends with benefits arrangement, and you had a hard time seeing that he would want anything more than that with you.

“It’s just not like that.” You assured her with a tight lipped smile. You knew she had good intentions, but you really didn’t feel like discussing the nuances of your relationship—or lack of—with the captain’s wife.

“Well, I’ve got to go, I’m getting brunch with some friends.” Mel gestured loosely to another table filled with women her age. You smiled at her, bidding her goodbye and just as she turned to go back to her table, and a look of realization crossed her face as she remembered something. “Oh! The boys are coming back tonight, so tomorrow I’m throwing a dinner for everyone. You and Mikko better be there.”

After receiving your assurance that you’d be there, Mel smiled and left. You turned back to Nina, busying yourself with your drink, knowing that she certainly had some comment about what had just transpired. You tried to not think about how Mel instantly thought you were dating Mikko, as if she saw something deeper in your relationship with the Finn than you did.

“Well, we’re certainly going to talk about that later.” Nina assured you, and you tried your hardest to come up with a different topic to distract her.

It was late at night, when you were curled up on the couch, when Mikko returned.

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat as you heard the keys in the lock, the way your focus had been entirely removed from the show you had been watching, and how you moved to lean your back against the headrest in anticipation for what would come next. The blond always had a routine for when he came home after being away. He always searched you out after returning from road trips, whether or not they were successful, instead of heading to his room for some much needed sleep. You tried not to think about it too much.

“Hey.” You called out to him softly, a smile on your face as he dropped his suitcase in the middle of the room, and then laid across the couch, his head on your stomach and his arms around your middle.

“Hello.” He mumbled into your shirt. Your heart clenched in your chest, hating how this felt too intimate for your current arrangement with him. Your fingers carded through his hair, earning you a satisfied hum.

“How was the east coast?” You questioned, though it was kind of pointless. He had texted you as much as he could during the day, and called you before and after games. You were pretty sure you knew exactly how the east coast had been.

“Fun. I beat EJ in cards twice on the plane.” He explained, and you could practically see his triumphant grin without even looking at his face. Like most hockey players, he was incredibly competitive. “How were things here?”

“Kind of boring, I went to brunch with Nina today and ran into Mel. Apparently, she’s having a mandatory dinner tomorrow.” You explained with a chuckle. For obvious reasons, you chose to avoid the fact that Mel had found out about the nature of your relationship with him.

“I heard. Landy told everyone before we even left New York.” He explained, and you smiled. He grabbed one of your hands, the one that wasn’t carding through his hair, and pressed soft kisses to each of your fingers, and then the back of your hand, before finally interlocking his fingers with yours. You watched in silent admiration as he did so, heart hammering in your chest so heavily you were afraid he would be able to hear it from the way he was laying atop you.

You needed to think of something to say, fast, or you were pretty sure you were going to combust.

“You need a shower.” You teased, scrunching up your nose in good fun as he shot you an offended look. Seconds later, though, his expression turned to one more mischievous and you knew you were in trouble. His sly grin replaced his goofy one, and you nearly melted into a puddle right then and there.

“Want to join me?”

Bad idea.

You nodded.

You ran into a problem the next day, while you were getting ready for dinner at the Landeskogs.

“Mikko Rantanen.” You called in an annoyed tone, looking over yourself in the outfit you had planned for the evening. You heard his heavy footsteps tread into your room, and then you saw him in the mirror behind you. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw him, but your emotions took a backseat to the reason you had called him in.

“You look good.” He hummed, his hands resting on your hips as he dipped his head down to press soft kisses to the junction of your neck and shoulder. You flushed at his compliment and his touch, setting your hands a top of his much larger ones.

“You did this.” You gestured to the problem—a large bruise on your neck, evidence of the eventful night you both had. He had the audacity to laugh, loud and bright, and you were having a hard time being mad at him when he made a sound so sweet. “I’m serious, Mikko!”

“You weren’t complaining last night, though.” He teased, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before retreating to sit on the edge of your bed. You turned with a pout, but his grin never wavered.

“The boys are going to make fun of me.” You huffed, crossing yours arms. Mikko grinned, huffing out a laugh as he pulled you to stand between his legs and you couldn’t help but feel and pang of pain shoot through you at how domestic everything felt—getting ready together for a dinner party at his team captain’s.

“Well, yeah, they make fun of everyone.” Mikko assured you, and even though his words didn’t sound very comforting, you couldn’t help the roll of your eyes and the smile that made its way onto your face. You especially couldn’t help the way you flushed as he squeezed your waist and grinned up at you with the goofy way he always did.

“Sometimes, I think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” You huffed, trying to play off the fact that you were totally enamoured by him. You slipped out of his grasp, retreating to find some concealer to cover up the bruise.

“You really weren’t saying that last night!”

Yeah, living with him was a bad idea.

Things were going great, dinner was spectacular and the company was amazing. That was, until, everyone settled on the large sectional and surrounding chairs, passing Linnea from one person to the next. You had felt Mikko’s gaze burning holes into the side of your head from his spot beside you when you had been bouncing the baby girl in your lap. But you chose to focus on anything besides the fact that you wanted nothing more than to have your own family with him one day. It was warm, so your concealer must have rubbed off, because—

“You’ve got a hickey!” Tyson shouted, gesturing to you with a mischievous look on his face. You flushed brightly, adjusting the collar on your shirt in a futile attempt to hide the bruise. Apparently, the boys were like teenagers, because suddenly all of them, besides Mikko and Cale, were crowded around you in an attempt to figure out who you were sleeping with. That was a downside of being friends with the boys; they were entirely protective over you, and wanted to be able to make sure that whoever you were with was good enough.

“Who gave it to you?” Andre asked cheekily, and you shot a nervous glance towards Mel, who was grinning smugly at you from the kitchen. You avoided the question, taking a sip of your water you had gotten moments earlier to try and cool yourself down.

“Mikko, you live with her. Do you know who gave it to her?” Nate asked, and you shrunk into your seat even further. Mikko laughed, tossing his arm on the back of the couch behind your head.

“Yeah, I do.” He grinned smugly, and you wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow you whole. Mel let out a booming laugh, and to your horror, you watched a look of understanding flicker across EJ’s face.

“Shut the fuck up.” He deadpanned, a wide and toothless grin spread across his face. His mischievous gaze was dancing between you and Mikko, and out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Mikko nodding in confirmation.

And then it was chaos. Gabe caught on the fastest, with Naz and JT close seconds. You missed the looks of confusion on Andre’s and Tyson’s faces, finding your nails much more interesting, but you could hear Ryan explaining it to them, and their following cheers of excitement.

“Are you serious?” Gabe asked, and you could see his smug grin without even looking up to him. Neither you nor Mikko got the chance to respond, because Mel let out a resounding ‘yep!’ from the kitchen and your face flushed further. Gabe spun to face his wife, betrayal on his face that you would have found amusing in just about any situation other than the one you were currently in. “You knew?!”

You took that as your chance to leave, standing from the couch and heading to the front porch. Ignoring everyone’s call of your name, you pushed forward and slipped out the door. You didn’t have your coat or phone, and Mikko had been your ride, so you drew in a shaky breath to try and calm yourself.

Things with Mikko were irrevocably changed, that was for sure, but you weren’t ready to face that quite yet. But, like always, Mikko had different plans. The door opened soon after you had stepped outside, and you’d recognized the blond that joined you no matter what.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice a lot quieter and a lot more serious than it had been five minutes before, when he had been boisterously talking with his friends and teammates. Five minutes earlier, you had been able to meet his gaze, but now you were doing your best to avoid looking at him. You shrugged, arms crossed over your chest and studying Mikko’s sock-clad feet. He hadn’t even put shoes on before he came chasing after you. You heard him sigh, but you didn’t lift your gaze. “I’m sorry I told them. I just didn't want to hide you anymore.”

“No, Mik, I’m not mad. Just embarrassed.” You tried not to think about what that meant, and instead wrapped your arms tighter around yourself in a futile attempt to somehow make yourself smaller and warm yourself up.

“Embarrassed?” He questioned, and you briefly wondered what it must be like to have his confidence if he wasn’t embarrassed by what had just happened inside. You could still see

“Yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing to have everyone know we’re just hooking up.” You turned away from him, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air against your flushed skin. You’re not sure what spurred your next words, knowing they were a bad idea, but nonetheless the confession tumbled past your lips in a whisper you secretly hoped he couldn’t hear. “Especially since I’m half in love with you.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, and you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt there were miles between you and Mikko, like you were drifting in space his feet were planted firmly on the ground. Your arms were crossed tightly across your chest, and you were doing all that you could in an attempt to not start crying on the Landeskog’s front porch. “Can you look at me?”

There was amusement in his voice that had confusion bubbling up in you. There was not one thing you found amusing about this situation, but when you turned back to face him, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Can I talk now?” He asked smugly, his hands falling to the outside of your arms to hold you in place. You distantly registered that you nodded, but the bright look in his eyes kept you locked into your place. “I’m half in love with you, too.”

And that was not what you were expecting, honestly, and you let out a breathy laugh before you could stop yourself. His grin widened at your shock, and he took a step closer to you, so you were nearly standing chest to chest.

“Actually, I know I’m in love with you.” Mikko corrected. You could barely hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. One of his hands, that had been resting on the outside of your arms, moved towards your face, and then he titled your chin to meet his gaze head on, and you felt your whole body lock up. It wasn’t in fear, but excitement, that he was as close to you as he was with his last words still hanging in the air.

“Really?” You whispered, and a look of disbelief crossed his face, and he took a step closer that had you keening into him.

“How could I not be? You’re my best friend, and you’re always there for me when I come home from road trips.” He explained with the utmost certainty, and you couldn’t help the playful roll of your eyes.

“That’s because I live there, Mik.” You teased, watching as his grin widened at your joke. Instead of answering, he ducked his head to meet you in a kiss that had your head swimming. It was far from the first time you had kissed him, but it was the first time you had done so with both of your feelings out on the air. One of your hands settled on his broad chest, the other wrapping around the back of his neck and threading through the blond hair on the nape of his neck. He hummed in appreciation, and suddenly you were grinning too much for the kiss to actually work and had to pull away.

“So, do you believe me now?” He asked, dropping his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your grin widened as your hand joined the other on the back of his neck while his own settled on your waist.

“Hm, I might need a little more convincing.” You hummed, feigning being deep in thought. Mikko’s chuckle filled the air, and you smiled at him, and he leaned towards you to do a little more convincing. Just as his lips brushed against yours, there was a knock on the window by the front door. You groaned, turning slightly to see Gabe and the rest of the guys watching you and Mikko with smug grins on their faces.

“Not on my front porch! We have neighbors!” Gabe told you through the window, and you flushed in embarrassment. Mikko let out a groan of his own, burying his face in the crook of your neck and mumbling what sounded like Finnish curses at his captain. You chuckled, bringing up a hand to rake through the curls on the top of his head.

“Congrats, you guys.” Naz’s words were genuine, but there was a mischievous grin on his face that told you Mikko would be teased good naturedly at the next practice. You smiled at him, and he was quickly overshadowed by two of his teammates.

As you faintly listened to JT and Tyson bicker back and forth from inside over who claimed that you and Mikko would get together first, you felt the blond still leaning heavily against you squeeze your sides gently, muttering a quiet ‘let’s get out of here’ to which you nodded readily. You slipped back inside to bid goodbyes and grab your things, only one thought sticking out to you.

Moving in with him might have been a bad idea, but the result couldn’t have been better.

#mikko rantanen #Mikko Rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen imagine #NHL imagine #NHL x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #Colorado Avalanche #Colorado Avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 29

A/N: There’s somewhat of a double update this week 🙊You’ll understand why at the end of the chapter 🙊

May 26th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was frantic.

The NHL had announced their Return to Play plan. Toronto was the chosen hub city for the eastern conference, naturally. They were Toronto. She’d be back at work.

None of that mattered.

William was back in Toronto.

But he was in quarantine. The government had instituted the policy and he was going to stick to it, obviously. And so was she, especially since he traveled from Florida, even though it was going to be hard. It meant that he was in Toronto, and Aberdeen knew he was in Toronto, but she was unable to see him. They’d have to communicate the same way as they did when he was in Tampa Bay, still, even though he was only a ten-minute walk away from her.

It killed her. It hurt worse than when he was in Tampa.

“The plan is already set,” he explained to her on the phone. “After the fourteen days I get to go back onto the ice. I think a few of the guys who stayed in Toronto will be there too. No more than five, though.”

“Yeah. Those are the rules.”

“Will you be there with Brendan?”

Aberdeen hadn’t even thought about it. She and Brendan had obviously kept in touch throughout quarantine, but he hadn’t mentioned needing her at Scotiabank Arena should any of the guys go in for a skate. “I don’t know, actually,” she admitted. “I’d have to ask.”

“Please ask,” he said quickly, causing Aberdeen to laugh. “If you’re there that day, when I’m back on the ice, I…Aberdeen, please just ask.”

“I will.”

***

May 29th, 2020

“Do you need me in that day, by the way?” Aberdeen asked Brendan on the phone, super-casually but also super-connivingly near the end of their call.

“Which day?”

“Any of the days, really,” she said, trying to sound even more casual than before. They’d gone through all the players, their whereabouts, and all the dates they would be available to go skate at the arena. “The seventh, the ninth – any of them.”

“Well…it’ll be nice to see your smiling face,” he said, and she knew by his tone he was looking down at his calendar. “How about you come in on just one of the days. You choose which one.”

“I’ll come on the ninth, the Tuesday,” she chose quickly. “Sunday is a day of worship, Brendan. You should know better.”

Brendan laughed on the other end. “It’ll be good to see you again, Aberdeen. Bring some of that humour with you. We’re gonna need it.”

***

June 3rd, 2020

“Six more days, minskatt.”

“Not that we’re counting.”

“When I get my hands on you…”

“Not if I get my hands on you first.”

***

June 7th, 2020

“Forty-eight hours.”

“It’s been sixty-one days, you know.”

“Sixty-one days?! Fuuuuuuck, Aberdeen.”

“You haven’t been buried in my pussy for sixty-one days, Willy.”

“Aberdeen—”

“My pussy’s so wet for you Willy.”

“You’ve gotta stop teasing me.”

***

June 9th, 2020

“A blazer, Aberdeen?” Brendan asked as he watched her walk into the office, a giddy smile on his face – not that anyone saw. Everyone was wearing a mask, and he was no exception. He wore a Leafs branded one, naturally. He had a bunch to give to Aberdeen, too – one for every day of the week. She walked into the office wearing a plain black mask. Typical of her.

“I needed to feel professional,” she said. “I’ve been in my condo in sweaters and tights for three months. Give me this moment.”

“Fine. Have it,” he smiled. “Set your stuff down and come with me. We’re going down to the ice.”

Aberdeen felt shivers running up and down her spine, and it wasn’t because of the ice. They made their way down to the locker room first, actually, where they saw Kyle on the way. She and him caught up quickly, with her asking about Leo and with Kyle asking about her writing. But then, like pure magic, and completely unannounced, there he was, in his hockey pants and socks. She swore her heart stopped beating. Sixty-one days.

William stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. He was wearing a mask, so she could only see his eyes. “Aberdeen,” he said, nodding at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said. “Long time no see. How was Tampa?” she asked.

Only she could see the indignant look he was giving her with his eyes. It was a look he only saved for her when she was being ridiculous – in any way she could be ridiculous – so Brendan and Kyle were none the wiser, though she was sure if they really looked, they’d probably see it too. “It was good. Nice spending time with the siblings, you know. Were you okay here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, everything was fine on my end. Just stayed holed up in the condo, really. Kasha was working a lot from home so it was mostly just me writing and keeping quiet so she could still earn a living.”

“Well that’s good that she didn’t get laid off or anything,” he commented. “And your family? They’re okay?”

“They’re fine. Siena’s back at my parents’ place and finished off the school year. Camden is too, though school in general is a bit of a shit show right now.”

“Is that Aberdeen?!” a voice suddenly called out from inside the locker room. Before their dumb conversation could continue with Brendan and Kyle watching, she saw a maskless Zach Hyman in his full gear barreling towards her. “Aberdeen!” he extended his arms for a hug.

“No no no!” Kyle and Brendan screamed at the same time, putting their arms up like a forcefield around Aberdeen. “No hugging! Social distancing!”

Zach’s brows were furrowed before he finally remembered, rolling his eyes at himself. “Sorry. I’m so dumb. I completely forgot. I’m just excited to see you!”

“Me too, Zach,” she smiled, wishing he could see it. She hoped he at least saw her eyes crinkle from it. “It’s nice to be back, isn’t it?”

“You’re telling me,” he said. She didn’t even have to see his face to see he was smiling from ear to ear. He lived for hockey. “You coming out onto the ice with us?”

“If I’m allowed,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders, looking to Brendan and Kyle who were nodding their heads. “Might sit on the bench and pretend I’m Sheldon for a bit.”

***

did u tell kasha ur working late?

Yup

come over right when brendan lets u leave i can’t wait anymore

me neither

i got a boner just seeing u today in your work clothes

LOL WILL

minskatt im 100% serious this isnt funny

I’m actually dying Willy Thank god you were wearing your hockey pants We’ve waited over six weeks, you can’t wait longer?

NO I CAN’T MINSKATT

***

There were butterflies in Aberdeen’s stomach as she made her way into William’s condo building, into the elevator, and through the hallways. Still in her work clothes, she knocked frantically on his front door.

She didn’t have to wait long.

She didn’t even get the third knock in before he swung the door open, obviously waiting for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her in. She dropped her bag as he pulled her into him and immediately planted his lips on hers aggressively. Hands and lips and tongues happened all at once, and they were everywhere, and when the front door shut behind them William pushed Aberdeen up against it, lifting her up in his arms with her wrapping her legs around him. Aberdeen wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began running her fingers through his hair. It had gotten so long. So long. She’d seen the progression of the length on their FaceTime calls, but it was different seeing it in person. Sixty-one days. Sixty-one days since she’d seen him and she barely took in the sight of him when he opened the door.

“God I fucking missed you,” he mumbled quickly as his kisses moved from her lips to her neck.

“Let me see you,” she mumbled, stopping her hands from running through his hair to place them on either side of his face. She pulled his face away from her neck so she could look at him, really look at him. His eyes were as blue as ever, glossed over with love and lust and everything in between. His hair was as blonde as ever, long and luscious and every girl’s dream, really. A light stubble covered his face, and the stupidest mustache sat atop his lip, but because he was William, she couldn’t say a bad thing about it. It looked ridiculous, but she loved everything about it. His lips were pink and puffy and wet as she ran her thumb across them ever so gently. He was here. He was actually here. “Hi,” she said softly, their chests still heaving from the hot and heavy start.

“Hi minskatt,” he whispered back equally as softly, pursing his lips slightly as if to kiss her thumb.

“You’re here,” she smiled. “You’re finally here.”

“I never want to spend that much time apart again,” he said. “I can’t stand being away from you.”

“Me neither.”

“It was torture,” he continued. “All I thought about was you. How much I love you. How much I wanted to hold you in my arms like I’m doing now.”

Aberdeen smiled again, biting down on her bottom lip slightly. “Show me,” she said. “Show me how much you love me.”

He planted his lips on hers again, just as frantic and fiercely as the last time, continuing where he left off. Aberdeen began shimmying out of her blazer, letting it fall to the floor as he adjusted her in his arms and carried her through the apartment, setting her down finally on his couch. Hovering over her now, with her legs still wrapped around him, Aberdeen tugged at his hoodie. “Take this off,” she mumbled, pulling it over his shoulders and throwing it behind them.

Reluctantly, William’s lips left Aberdeen’s as he pulled back and started unzipping her pants. “Willy,” her chest heaved up and down. He was working quickly. He ignored his name as he pulled her pants off. When they were off, he hooked his fingers into her underwear and pulled them off too. “Willy—”

William was a man possessed. There was nothing Aberdeen could say – instead, she watched as he gave her one final look with his blue eyes before he dove into her pussy. She bucked her hips almost automatically but William brought his arm up to hold her down. “Ooooooh fuck, Willy,” she sighed out.

“I missed this,” he mumbled, humming against her lips as he lapped and sucked, making her squirm underneath his arm. “You taste so good for me.”

“I missed this too. I missed your mouth on my pussy,” she strained to get out, trying to savour the feeling as much as possible since she hadn’t felt it in sixty-one days. When he looked up at her from in between her legs, she smiled. “You look so good between my thighs, baby,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair and gripping it slightly.

He hummed again, sending shivers down her spine. “When you touched yourself was it like this?” he asked.

“No,” she responded automatically, because nothing was the same as having William’s lips and tongued glued to her pussy. “Nothing is as good as this, Willy. Nothing.”

“Can I put my fingers in your pussy?”

She nodded furiously. “Please Willy.”

He pushed two fingers in slowly as he sucked on her clit, making her squirm even more so than before. “Oooooh, Willy,” she moaned. He curled his fingers inside of her like he always did and she gasped. “Willy—Willy—”

“Feel good?”

“Feels fucking amazing,” she said. “Willy, I—I—”

“What do you want, Aberdeen?”

“I want to suck your cock, Willy,” she admitted. “I want to suck your cock so bad.”

He chuckled, and she could feel it, and his eyes narrowed as he could practically feel the shivers run through her body. “Not yet. Not until you come on my face.”

Aberdeen gulped. “But Willy—”

“No. Not until you come on my face, baby.”

“Willyyyy—” she begged, until she felt his fingers curl inside of her again. “Oh fuck, Willy, fuck – please,” she huffed.

“Let me taste you, Aberdeen. I need to taste you.”

As he continued his lapping, Aberdeen moaned and cried out at every opportunity, and when she began tugging on his hair and pulling his face even further against her wet pussy, he knew she was close. With a few more curls of his fingers and sucking on her clit, she cried out his name over and over again as she became a screaming, writhing mess on his couch. He lapped up every single last drop of her as he watched her chest heave up and down from the pleasure, from the pleasure he caused. When he was finally finished, placing butterfly kisses against her pussy and thighs, he made his way back up and gave her a hot, slobbered kiss.

She could taste herself on his lips, and she loved it, but what she wanted more was to taste him. So when his lips left hers, she made sure to look him in the eye. “Sit,” she said, putting her hands on his chest.

“Minskatt—” he said, placing a hand on hers.

“Sit,” she ordered more sternly, pushing him back so he’d listen to her command. He sat on the couch with his legs spread apart and watched as she climbed on top of him but made her way between his legs. She took off her top, leaving her just in her lace bra that she wore especially for him. Her hands went to the waistband of his sweatpants and she pulled them down, along with his boxers, as eagerly as ever. When his cock bounced up, already hard, she smiled up at him. “Mmmmm,” she hummed, running her fingernails up and down his thick thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about your cock in my mouth, Willy.”

“I’ve been dreaming abo—oh fuuuuuck,” he groaned as Aberdeen wasted no time in licking the underside of his cock from the base to the tip before covering the tip with her lips. “Aberdeen—”

William couldn’t finish his sentence – or thought, really – because Aberdeen took his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around expertly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The amount of times he thought about this very thing while in Tampa…and now it was happening. He shuddered thinking about it, feeling it happening right now. “Your mouth feels incredible on my cock,” he managed to get out, looking down at her with hooded eyes.

“Pull my hair, Willy,” she said quickly, putting a quick kiss on the tip of his cock.

It was his turn to gulp. He ran his fingers through her hair – the hair he loved so much – and tugged on it slightly, pushing her back down onto his cock. She moaned in response. “That okay?”

She nodded even though his cock was halfway down her throat. She looked up at him again once she came back up – once he allowed her to. “Harder, Willy. It’s okay. I want your cock down my throat.”

“Ab—”

“It’s okay, Willy,” she dug her nails into his thighs. “I want it.”

A deep growl rose in his chest as he tugged on her hair again, pushing her mouth down his cock slowly. As he watched his cock disappear into her mouth, his pupils dilated. When she looked up at him with her beady eyes, he almost lost it. She began bobbing her head up and down his cock with his direction, the tugging of her hair and the slight force he was using making her wet all over again. Much like William, Aberdeen derived pleasure from knowing she was giving William that same pleasure, so seeing his chest heave, seeing him lean his head back in pleasure – it was all she wanted, everything she dreamed of for the past sixty-one days away from him.

“D’you want to come down my throat?” she asked, his cock slick and wet from her spit.

“No,” he said sternly. “Get…get up here.”

“Willy—”

He tugged her by the arm, bringing her back up so he could kiss her and pick her back up again as they made their way to his bedroom. He plopped her down to the bed, opening his bedside table drawer to get a condom. She stole it from him, ripping it open with her teeth and rolling it on herself before laying back down on the bed, unclasping her bra herself and throwing it across the room.

William bent down and took one of her nipples into her mouth, sucking gently as he grabbed at her hands. He raised them above her head, holding them both there with only one of his own. He saw her smile. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his own grin showing how he felt about it.

She nodded her head. “I want your cock so bad Willy. “Give me your cock. I need your cock.”

He slipped into her easily, quickly, her wet pussy still slick with her juices. They both moaned in pleasure, and once he was fully in her, they both took a moment to savour the feeling of being together again – physically, mentally, emotionally, everything – and looked each other in the eye. “God you feel so good,” he whispered, giving the tip of her nose a light kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she said, her voice breathless, the feeling of him filling her up almost too much to bear after not having experienced it for so long. “I love you so much, Willy.”

“I promise you,” he said. “I promise you I’ll never leave you for that long again. We’ll never be separated like that.”

She nodded her head. She understood. “I never want to be. I always want to be with you, Willy. Wherever you are, I’ll be.”

He began moving in and out of her, slowly, trying to make the feeling last as long as possible. But eventually, when Aberdeen began rolling her hips along with his movements, even though her arms and hands were still pinned above her head, he couldn’t control himself, moving quicker and crashing harder against her body. He watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the moans escaping them freely and loudly.

At some point, William forgot about holding her arms above her head. At some point, they escaped free, and she dug her nails into his shoulder blades and scratched them down his back. At some point, after hearing her moans and cries and screams of his name for what felt like hours, he lost himself, and he lost control, and she lost herself, and she lost control, and they came together, bodies close, arms around each other, his head buried in the crook of her neck, hearts beating together.

***

“Did you mean what you said?” William asked as they lay in bed together, still recovering. He knew there was going to be a round two. And a round three. And however many more they saw fit until they were satisfied, although deep down he knew neither of them would ever be satisfied. But before all that, he needed to clear something up. He needed to hear it from her. “Wherever you are, I’ll be?”

Aberdeen looked over at him. She knew what he was asking, because he was in hockey. He could be shipped off somewhere tomorrow. He could be shipped off in the off-season. As she learned in May, and saw for herself, virtually half the fanbase wanted him gone (the dumb fanbase at least, she thought). But much like when he asked her if she would really come to Sweden with him, she knew there was a deeper meaning to this. There always was with William with questions like this; he was still learning to talk to her – to express his feelings like he promised he would after that game against Carolina. “Are you listening?” she asked, what they would always ask each other when they were about to say something important.

“Yes, minskatt.”

She looked him in the eye and nodded her head. “Of course I did.”

He tried not to show it, but he took a sharp intake of breath. She could see his Adam’s apple bob. She knew he was trying not to get emotional. But when he moved to kiss her, she could feel a tear.

***

June 13th, 2020

“I saw on the news that William is back!” Camden exclaimed into the phone. Aberdeen had to go so far as to jerk the phone away from her ear. From the other side of the couch, William giggled silently. “Did you get to see him, Aberdeen?!”

“I did,” she laughed. “He says hello.”

“Did he have a good time in Tampa?”

“I think so. I mean he was with his siblings,” Aberdeen laughed. “Aren’t you happy with me and Siena are home?”

“Sometimes.”

She snorted. “Anyways, have you finished the last of your work for school?” she asked. “Siena told me you forgot about a math assignment.”

“Oh my God, I forget about one assignment and I never hear the end of it!” he complained. William threw his head back in silent laughter. “You guys never let me hear the end of it!”

“But it’s math, Camden! Math is your favourite subject!”

“Don’t you guys remember I’m working at like, two grades above my level in math anyway?” he reminded her. “I’m already, like, gifted in math. You weren’t gifted.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Is Auston back yet?” he asked.

“I don’t know buddy. He’s still in Arizona. But I assume he’ll be coming back soon. I’m sure there’s ice rinks there he’s practicing on.”

“Is he staying safe?”

“I’m sure he is Camden. I’m sure he is.”

***

June 19th, 2020

@simmonssteve: POSTMEDIA EXCLUSIVE: Auston Matthews has tested positive for COVID-19. My breaking story: torontosun.com

***

Aberdeen thought she’d seen Brendan Shanahan angry on her interview day when he was demanding to his former personal assistant that the article written about his daughter be pulled from the Toronto Sun. She thought she saw Brendan Shanahan at his angriest when she entered his house while he was having a fight with his daughter and the subsequent day when he sent her on a wild goose chase throughout the city to find Niklas Lidstrom’s Swedish jersey.

Those were a walk in the park compared to how she saw him now, dealing with the leaked information that Auston tested positive for COVID-19.

She was sure he was ready to burn down his office, the floor, the entire building, the entire Scotiabank Arena. She knew he wanted to revoke the media access and credentials of the reporter, Steve Simmons, because he had so many strikes against him over the years (Aberdeen would have to research this when she got home), but that he would look like a vindictive and spiteful president if he did so. She knew he had been on the phone with Auston and his agent and his parents and Kyle and Brad and just about everyone else important within the organization to deal with it.

And all she was doing was sitting in a chair in his office with a mask on.

She felt her phone buzz in her hand, and when she looked at the screen she saw “Head Empty” on the screen followed by a message.

hows it going over there?

She took a quick look at Brendan and he was still barking into a phone. She unlocked her screen and began to type.

It’s a shit show. Have you heard from Auston?

yea mild symptoms but hes angry doesnt know how it leaked

Who could it have been?

no clue, honestly not like any of us would say something

“Aberdeen, Kyle is coming in,” Brendan said quickly. His voice was stern but softer than how he was speaking to whoever was on the phone. He had his hand over the receiver. “Can you go get us some coffee, please.”

She nodded and got up, making her way out of his office and to the Starbucks where she always went to get their regular orders. As she took the staircase down to the main floor, her phone began to ring loudly, echoing in the empty space. She stopped and looked down at her phone. Auston Matthews.

“Hello?” she asked, truly confused as to why he would be calling her.

“Hey,” he said casually. “How are you?”

“I’m…fine,” she replied, still confused. “Is everything okay?”

“Depends,” he said. “Can you be honest with me?”

She stiffened slightly. “I’m always honest with you.”

“I know. But can you be honest with me right now?”

“Yes, of course.”

He paused. “Do you know who leaked it?”

She closed her eyes. She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. “No, I don’t. But trust me when I say we’re doing everything to find out. Kyle’s heading over right now and I can only imagine what he and Brendan are going to do to…I don’t know, mitigate this disaster.”

She could hear him sigh on the other end. “I hope whoever it was gets fired, honest to God.”

“I hope so too. Pretty sure Brendan wants to get Steve Simmons fired, too, for what it’s worth,” she said. There was a moment of silence between the two of them before her mouth began speaking quicker than her brain told her not to say anything. “You don’t think it was me, do you?”

“No, not at all,” he said. “We all trust you with anything and everything. We know if something ever got out, it would never be you.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, genuinely curious. It was a feat in and of itself to have the utmost trust of absolutely everybody in the locker room.

“Because we know and understand that we all have our secrets, Aberdeen.”

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professorsnape394 · 3 years

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Thirteen: Outrageous Outbursts

A/N: This is the thirteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 3520

Warnings: swearing, slut shaming, moderate violence.

Credits to Gif Creator

Practically bursting through the doors of the three broomsticks Aria Dumbledore was very quickly greeted by Alexander who led her to a secluded table in the corner of the pub.

"Are you okay, you seemed stressed?" He laughed nervously, upon noticing the fact she was slightly sweating from her walk from the castle.

"I need a drink." She demanded simply, about to make her way to the bar.

"Sit. I'll get it for you, you look like you need a rest." He continued to laugh.

"Fire Whiskey. And make it double!" She shouted after him, to which he replied with a simple thumbs up.

Almost immediately after Alexander left, a pair of mischievous red headed boys bounced into sight, pulling a chair up to the table. Removing her head from her hands, Aria could only let out a long, hard sigh at the sight of them.

"What going on here then, teach." Fred questioned sceptically with the raise of an eyebrow. "Who's the lad?"

"A friend." Aria replied through gritted teeth, wishing they would just leave her alone. She had been stressed out enough today as it were.

"Mmmmhmmm." George hummed. "He's a pretty good-looking friend if you ask me, professor."

"And he chose a spot all the way in the back, pretty intimate don't you think?" Fred continued.

"Pretty romantic. wouldn't you agree, Freddie?" The Weasley boy nudged his brother.

"Very romantic." The second Weasley twin nodded in agreement.

"Listen this isn't appropriate, I'm your professor, you best be gone before he gets back." Aria warned, while the boys continued to heckle her.

"You're only a professor in training. Besides it isn't against any rules for you speak to us out with the castle grounds, you've got nothing to worry about." George pointed out.

"Unless it's us she's worried about, eh Georgie?" The two boys turned to glare at their potion's mistress, waiting for her to crack.

Groaning loudly, Aria knew she couldn't get rid of the boys as easily as she had hoped. "Look, it's not a date. It's just a few drinks with a friend, okay? And he deserves to be able to come back to me without the two of you causing trouble. So go on, scram."

"Alright, alright, we'll go." They obeyed.

"Just one last thing." Fred spoke slowly, turning back on his heel. "Speaking of nice guys deserving things, how's the love life going?"

She knew it was coming, there was no escaping it. But for her sake, she hoped the boys could be trusted enough to keep their mouths shut, at least until the end of the year when she would be forced to confront all her problems head on.

"He deserves to know, Aria. You have to say something soon."

"I know, I know." She whispered, bowing her head in shame. "I just need to figure things out for myself first. Please don't say anything about this."

The twins looked between them deliberating who their loyalties lay with. "If you promise it's not a date, we have no reason to." Fred stated.

"It's not, I promise." She said sincerely.

And with that the boys retreated to their table not too far away, still keeping a close eye on their professor.

Alexander returned from the bar with a tray full of drinks for the pair of them.

"I thought you'd need them." He chuckled. And he was right as Aria instantly downed the entirety of her Fire Whiskey in one gulp.

For the next few hours, the pair laughed and drunk together, and for the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she felt she finally had one true friend. It was nice to finally be able to talk to someone her age and not have to constantly fight to have a conversation or speak about work the whole time.

Unfortunately, though, within seconds of her coming to this realisation, Aria's hopes of maintaining her relationship with her new found 'friend' was shattered. Alexander reached his hand across the table, resting it gently on top of her own. Slowly he picked it up, moving it towards his lips before place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

From the corner of her eye, Aria saw the Weasley twins watching her intently, forcing her to yank her hand away from the man.

"Another Drink?" Aria asked, already getting up from the table, making her way to the bar.

"Umm, no thanks." He said slightly confused, watching her walk away.

Passing the Weasley twins she avoided eye contact, praying Alexander would not make another move. At this rate making friends was not worth risking the twins spilling her secrets.

Of course, as Saturday's always were, the Three Broomsticks was packed full of students socialising with their friends and so Aria thanked God for once in her life that she would not get served any time soon. Rehearsing over in her head how she was about to end this 'date' with Alexander, all Aria wanted to do at this moment was run back to Hogwarts and go to sleep. It had been a long a day.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Aria was barely focusing on her surroundings.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked.

"Fire Whiskey. Double." Two voices spoke at once.

Snapping back to reality upon hearing that so easily recognisable voice, Aria looked to her right to see none other than Severus Snape sitting at the corner of the bar, fondling an empty glass of Fire Whiskey.

"I'll get those right up." The bartender complied, obviously catching it was an awkward situation, and decided to get both the drinks at the same time.

"Severus." Aria said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"You are not the only one permitted to enjoy themselves with the occasional libation, Miss Dumbledore." He retorted, his words slightly running together, suggesting he had either been here a while, or had a lot to drink. Or both. Aria thought.

"Of course." She smiled awkwardly, not quite knowing how to respond.

"And your date." Snape spat, clearly unaware of how loud he was being. "How is it going?"

"Like I said before, Professor Snape. It is not a date." Aria tried to act a little more professional than her mentor, fully away the pub was full of Hogwarts students.

"Doesn't look like it from where I'm sitting, the two of you seemed rather close just now." Snape continued to mumble.

"You were watching us?" Aria questioned, to which Snape chose to remain silent.

"Two double Fire Whiskeys." The bartender announced.

Snape handed over his money, gesturing that he would be paying for both drinks.

Aria nodded a small thank you and made to leave.

Grabbing his drink from the table Snape stood up from his bar stool and started to walk alongside Aria, until gradually they came to a halt in the center of the room.

"Can I help you, Severus?" Aria huffed irritably.

Snape pondered for a moment, taking a large gulp of Fire Whiskey, deciding whether or not to speak.

Aria started to walk away, thinking he was never going to say anything.

"What are you trying to achieve." He hiccupped, bringing her back to attention.

"I'm sorry?" Aria asked, spinning on her heel to face him once more. "I don't think I know what you mean."

"I know what you're doing." He hiccupped again, leaning against a wooden pole in an attempt to stabilise his balance. "You're playing a game, but what do you get from it?"

"I have no idea what you're on about Snape, now if you don't mind, I'm going back to my-"

"Date?" He cut in, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

"No." Aria smirked sourly, knowing he was trying to put words in her mouth.

"Then what is it? Because, that boy over there is clearly interested in you and you're leading him on." He spat, his voice raising the more he spoke.

"None of this is any of your business, Professor Snape." Aria said still trying to remain professional and remove herself from the situation, knowing the man was clearly intoxicated. It was clear now to Aria that the majority of students in the pub were invested in listening in to their professor's conversation.

"There's no point denying it, I've seen it for myself. He's not the first, this boy." The potions master raised his voice, latching onto the woman's wrist, stopping her from leaving.

"Professor Snape, I think maybe you should quieten down a bit, people are listening." Fred interrupted as the twins bravely came to Aria's rescue.

"Aria maybe it's time to go." George whispered to her, pulling her back from the potions master.

"Here's more of them now. Students." Snape scoffed, completely ignoring anything the twins tried to say. "I bet before you came to Hogwarts, you done the same to them. Lead them on, drew them in with your sickening charms, then just left them on the hook for you. Look at them now, coming to your rescue."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. This is highly inappropriate." Aria tried to keep her composure, motioning to the Weasley boys to leave them, but it was obvious to everyone that a scarlet blush had begun to warm her cheeks. "You need to go home Severus. You've had too much to drink, you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying. And I know that you're here on a date with some poor bloke whose got no chance and you'll happily admit that"

"That's not what's happening, you're twisting my words."

"And I know that all day you've been flirting with Igor Karkaroff." He continued, paying no mind no Aria's objections. "I found the two of you in a rather comprising position today after the Great Feast."

"You're exaggerating, Snape, you know fine well that's not what was going on." Aria cried, which again, Severus chose to ignore.

"You've even tried your godforsaken charms on me. You tried to get me on my own in your quarters to seduce me, you're constantly flirting in a feeble attempt to manipulate me. Thank god I'm not dull enough to fall for your sickening act. I mean even now, look at how you're dressed. I'm assuming it's for all our benefits, men have been gawking and drooling over you all day and you love it. You're a teacher dressed like a common whore, how utterly inappropriate. You'd have been fired by now if Dumbledore wasn't your precious grandfather."

"This has gone too far, Severus, you need to stop this now!" Aria demanded, her voice cracking a little as she tried to match his volume.

"I'm not done." He sneered at her, the venom in his voice, showing a side of her mentor she never wanted to encounter again.

"The icing on the fucking cake is, you done all of this, played all of these cruel, childish games, and all the while you're in a relationship." He paused, relishing in Aria's reaction. She froze on the spot like a deer caught in headlights. For the first time tonight her eyes connected with the professors. "Is he being played too? Or does he somehow benefit from your antics."

"How the hell do you know that." Aria whispered, her own tone turning sour.

"I saw the letter on your desk."

"You read my mail? How dare you! That is confidential. You just don't know when to stop do you?" Aria cried, utterly humiliated.

"What's going on here." Alexander chimed in, holding Aria by the arm attempting to get in between her and Snape. He had been stood aside, listening alongside the students, but didn't know how to process any of this information until now.

"Everything he's saying, it's not true!" Aria pleaded with her friend, praying he too wouldn't ridicule her in front of everyone. "But he is right, this wasn't supposed to be a date. Nothing will happen between us, I'm so sorry." She begged, trying to hold herself together.

"It's okay." Alexander whispered, not wanting to upset the woman further. "Come with me, I'll walk you home." He attempted to embrace her.

"We all know what that means." Snape scoffed, watching them walk away. "She'll probably do anything you want she's that much of a fucking slut."

Both Aria and Alexander stopped in their tracks. Aria's whole body froze, having no idea how to react. The word rung in her ears, sending a pain to her heart and making her body go numb as if she was being stabbed with a thousand tiny knives. This was not the first time she had been called that word, and it fucking hurt to hear.

Alexander on the other hand knew exactly how to react. He paused for a moment, hand wrapping tightly around his wand before changing his mind at the last minute. Before anyone knew what was happening Alexander swung a punch at Severus hitting him squarely in his right eye. The professor instantly doubled over swearing in pain.

The students listening in instantly made to look busy, not wanting to know what Severus Snape would do to retaliate. Unfortunately for those wanting to see a show, Snape simply fell to the nearest chair, keeping his head down.

Aria quickly pulled herself together knowing this was her mess to fix.

Alexander rubbed his knuckles to ease the pain, before wrapping an arm around Aria Dumbledore. "Come with me." He said.

"Actually Alexander, I think I better take him back to the castle." She gestured to the mass of black fabric and hair drooping over a table and chair.

"Are you mad, after all that he just said to you. There's no way I'm letting you walk alone with him. He should be fired for all he's done."

"He's drunk... and I provoked him really, it's not his fault." Aria lied. "He's not like this when he's sober, trust me."

After a few more minutes of persuasion Alexander finally let Aria have her way, and bid her goodbye.

By this time the whole of the pub was chattering and gossiping about what they had witnessed, but Aria knew this was not the time to address what had happened and she would just have to let time run its course. The only thing she could do not was please the screaming bartender and remove Severus from the premises.

Drunk and a little concussed it took the potions master a minute or two to come around, but by then Aria had managed to walk him out the pub and along the road back to Hogwarts.

"Why are you helping me." Snape slurred, as he stumbled his way along the path.

"Because I know you're not a bad guy." She said softly.

That evening Aria insisted on helping Snape into his private quarters. The effects of the night had begun to sober Severus up, the embarrassment rendering him speechless, but Aria couldn't help but worry for him. This was not a regular old outburst, something was obviously eating away at him, but she could not bring herself to ask what it was that drove him to that level of anger.

Not wanting to upset him further, Aria chose not to enter his bedroom and chose to stay in the main living area. Handing him a pint of water to sip on, the young Miss Dumbledore set out to arrange a place for him to sleep on the couch. She managed to gather a few stray blankets and pillows she had found lying around, and decided he was still too drunk to care whether or not he went to sleep in his clothes.

Crawling up on the couch beside where he sat, Aria help a make shift ice pack gently to his eye. It had already begun to swell and it was clear there would be a lot of bruising by the morning. Her heart hurt for him.

"Why are you doing this." Snape finally spoke, breaking the silence that had become so thick.

Aria took a deep intake of breath, not fully understanding herself why she was helping the man who had ridiculed in the worst possible way.

"I don't know." Was all she could say in return, shuffling closer to tend to his eye.

For what seemed like a lifetime, Snape's apprentice sat facing him on her knees, breathing slowly and deeply as she held the cold compress to his eye, desperately hoping the swelling would go down and result in minimal bruising. Though the bruising of his eye was the last thing Severus was concerned about. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of half the student body, he had humiliated Aria and deeply hurt someone he truly cared about. Perhaps that's why he did it.

Severus knew the feelings he had for his assistant were becoming more real by the day and there was nothing he could do to stop them the more time they spent together. Perhaps his drunk-self had concluded that the only solution to his problem would be to drive her away, make her turn on him. But clearly his plan had failed. Now he was sat closer to her than he had ever been, watching her chest slowly rise and fall as she breathed in time to the beat of his heart.

Slowly Severus' lifted his gaze to the woman's face, watching her intently. For the first time since they had met, he saw a true sadness take over her, and he hated himself for being the reason she felt this way.

Snape suddenly felt completely dissociated from his body. He wasn't thinking, he didn't want to think. He had done enough of that in his lifetime and for once he just wanted to feel. Gingerly Snape nervously placed his hand over her own, catching Aria's attention as he removed the cloth of ice from his eye. Never breaking eye contact Severus shifted on the couch to face her better. She sat on her knees, her bare legs exposed, rubbing lightly against his own. Letting go of her hand, Severus softly placed it on her exposed waist.

Goosebumps immediately rose all over her body, when the professors hand rested on her waist. She had hoped he would just assume she was cold from holding the ice, but both of them knew this was not the case. She wanted to break her gaze, she couldn't stand how he was looking at her, but she could not force herself to look away. Never before had Aria encountered this side of Severus Snape, she didn't think anyone had, but she couldn't help herself from feeling enchanted.

Just as unexpectedly as the first had been, Severus placed a second hand on her cheek, while letting the first snake around her body to the small of her back. The couple's bodies had gradually came edged to each other and now they were so close they could feel each other's warm breath on their skins.

Severus dropped his eyes to Aria's mouth, almost contemplating his next move. He thought about it for so long, unable to make the final move. Their foreheads touched, and his nose brushed against hers, but he just did not have the nerve to close that final gap. Both Aria and Severus' breathing had picked up the pace, and as each jagged breath left their mouths, the atmosphere became even hotter and heavier.

Just as Severus worked up the courage to make his move Aria found herself snap back to reality. Jerking away from him, she left out a small gasp but quickly covered her mouth. "I'm sorry." She whispered, shaking her head as she saw the Snape's face fall. "I'm so sorry." She cried, tears forming in her eyes, as she backed away.

Severus pulled his hands a way, balling them into fists, knowing he had made a mistake. He got up from the couch just as Aria had done, moving backwards putting some distance between them.

"Aria..." He whispered, calling her by her name for the first time. He looked at her almost pleadingly. But even he didn't know whether he was begging her to stay or begging her for forgiveness.

"I have to go. I'm sorry Severus." She breathed again, fleeing from the room.

Just as Severus made to close the final gap between them, Aria thought back to his harsh words of the night. She remembered everything he had said, and it suddenly occurred to her that he may have been testing her. He had claimed she was playing games and using men. He knew she was in a relationship, why else would he do this? To try and seduce her completely out of the blue, he could only be trying to prove himself right, prove that she really was a user, a harlot, a slut.

Aria felt the tears pour from her eyes as she tried to make sense of the confusion Severus had caused. What exactly was he gaining from this? Why would he want to ridicule her even more than he already has? Maybe he was truly just a cruel man.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

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taylizmasterpost · 4 years

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Jake Gyllenhaal and Jealous Liz (October 2010 - February 2011)

Now, there’s a lot to say about Jake and Taylor. The time they got together was a time when he was promoting his movie, Love and Other Drugs, and she was about to drop Speak Now. So at first glance, it look a lot like a traditional PR stunt. However, they do not have a first public meeting -- something that Taylor has with a lot of her other PR relationships (think Calvin at the Fund Fair or Harry at the KCAs), and seemed generally more camera shy.

Jake’s costar in Love and Other Drugs, Anne Hathaway, was also single at the time, and arguably a PR relationship between the two of them would’ve drummed up significantly more buzz for the film, so stunting with Taylor seems an odd choice.

Jake also reportedly annoyed Taylor with how much he wanted to hide from the press, which is interesting. I’m not totally certain if they were real or not, but I’ll put all of their stuff in here, because it’s interesting to note Liz’s reaction to all of it, despite her relationship:

23 October 2010 - Emma Stone hosts SNL. Both Taylor and Jake G show up to support her, supposedly they’ve already started dating at this point and this was their first public appearance together.

"They walked around together backstage, but they were careful not to be seen too close. It was hard to tell if they were together, but everyone was shocked that she brought him," a source told People magazine.

Notice the lack of public meeting. Strange that they just showed up together dating.

24 October 2010 - Liz tweets about listening to Never Grow Up

October 2010 - Taylor writes All Too Well, the first of the three “Nashville songs” -- All Too Well, State of Grace, Stay Stay Stay-- that were written for the Red album before she moved to LA, based on the fact that she said she started writing for Red slightly before Speak Now was released.

We also know All Too Well has to have been written in 2010 because what the copyright record for it says:

Now, it seems to me that this is too soon to be about Jake. It’s obviously a breakup song, and Taylor and Jake have only just started dating (unless they had a secret dating history we don’t know about). It would be weird for her to be writing all this about him while they’re still dating.

All Too Well could be about any of the three women I’ve spoken previously about in this masterpost. However, I’m going to try to make the case that this song is for Liz:

All Too Well is Liz’s favorite song from Red. She has said so on multiple occasions. Years later, when she came to watch Taylor’s Reputation tour in Glendale, Taylor even played it for her as the surprise song. Sure, it could just be that Liz is just a fan, but the song fits where we are in the timeline. Liz has moved on with someone else. Taylor is trying to get over it, but she can’t help but think back to the past she remembers “all too well.”

If the song is about a woman, lines like “back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known” reads to me as Taylor making a (possibly unfounded) dig at closeting. All Too Well also carries the bad driving metaphor with “almost ran the red,” which runs throughout a lot of the other Liz songs on Red, and which Liz will later reference herself in her own music. The lines in the bridge about “asking for too much” and “running scared,” remind me of Taylor insisting she was single during Valentine’s Day, despite spending it with Liz, only to turn around and miss her once Liz got a boyfriend. Lines about loss of innocence are also interesting, when we think about that L Chat post about Liz from earlier...

Of course, obviously, you can think this song is about whoever you want. If you wanna claim it for JH or Joe Jonas or Taylor Lautner or maybe even some girl Taylor went to high school with, be my guest. I personally don’t buy it being about Emily in a post-Dear John world, and the timeline doesn’t read as Jake to me, so I’m giving it to Liz!

25 October 2010 - Speak Now is released. In the album’s prologue, she specifies that the song “Long Live” is for her band, which is interesting to me, considering that the bridge of the song sounds like it might be about a relationship, and the secret message of the song is “For you,” which sounds oddly specific:

Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you’ll stand by me forever But, if God forbid, fate should step in And force us into a goodbye If you have children someday When they point to the pictures, Please tell ‘em my name

The secret message for Mine is “Toby,” which is the name of the actor who played her love interest during the song, making it make no sense for the song to be about him (and, in my eyes, making it more likely she was trying to cover up who the song was really for). We’ve already discussed Story of Us having “CMT Awards” and Back to December having “Tay,” so I won’t beat you over the head with those.

Unlike the original handwritten lyrics to Sparks Fly, which featured the lyric “Get me with those brown eyes, baby,” the version that Taylor put on the Speak Now album had the lyric “hit me with those green eyes, baby,” with the eye color presumably being changed because Liz has green eyes:

The secret message for Sparks Fly is “Portland, Oregon,” which is where Taylor and The Agency covered Tom Petty’s song American Girl in May 2009 during the height of early TayLiz.

26 October 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted together in Brooklyn getting lunch with Emma Stone:

Liz does a sound check for Taylor for the Today Show. A video later gets posted on YouTube and someone leaves this comment noting Taylor and Liz’s chemistry:

31 October 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in Big Sur together and stay at California’s Post Inn Ranch.

Liz spends Halloween with her boyfriend:

1 November 2010 - Taylor’s appearance on Ellen airs. Ellen asks her about Jake. Taylor says “I’m always optimistic about love. Yes, always, sometimes.”

2 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in Santa Barbara together. They get ice cream, interact with fans, and Taylor reportedly laughs at everything Jake says.

16 November 2010 - Jake attends the Love and Other Drugs premiere alone. This is interesting to me, considering if this was a PR relationship you would’ve thought he’d bring Taylor as his date. Still, Paula made some weird decisions in her time as Taylor’s publicist (like putting her with a carousel of 18 year olds), so this could just be Paula thinking that Taylor showing up at the premiere with him would be too obviously read as a stunt. Doesn’t rule it either way. Still, I think Anne would’ve been a better choice for PR for this.

Mid November - Perez Hilton alleges that Jake has picked up Taylor on his private jet to fly her to London because she was “feeling lonely.” Jake was in London promoting Love and Other Drugs so this seems very stunty to me personally.

22 November 2010 - Taylor attends the American Music Awards and wins Favorite Female Country Artist.

Liz tweets congratulations at her and seems generally excited.

24 November 2010 - Love and Other Drugs is officially released in theaters.

25 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake spend Thanksgiving in Brooklyn with Jake’s family.

26 November 2010 - Liz seems to have spent Thanksgiving with Jason:

27 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake are spotted in a coffee house in Nashville:

And, maybe in response, Liz makes this weird and vaguely jealous Tweet:

Now, I don’t know what this means. Maybe the “you” refers to Liz and she’s having what Carly Rae Jepsen would call “boy problems” -- feeling torn and overburdened between a best friend and boyfriend:

youtube

Or, perhaps, the “you” in this Tweet refers to Taylor, and Liz is trying to say that Jake is “using her up,” maybe meaning taking up her time. Or maybe Liz wasn’t referring to any of this. We can’t really know. Still, it’s interesting.

29 November 2010 - TayLiz hang out and Liz tweets about it. Perhaps to make up for the lack of time spent together since they both got boyfriends.

30 November 2010 - Taylor and Jake have coffee in Nashville:

1 December 2010 - Taylor writes a MySpace post about the CMTs.

Liz tweets about watching Glee, meaning she’s the one who got Taylor hooked on the show and therefore interested in Dianna. Hilarious.

2 December 2010 - Taylor calls Love and Other Drugs a “good movie” when asked about it, and won’t say anything more. She also adamantly refuses to talk about her personal life (This gives me 2018/19 Joe vibes, whatever that means).

3 December 2010 - Liz tweets that her favorite song on Speak Now is Last Kiss. She also tweets at Jason about his cooking:

5 December 2010 - Jake is asked about Taylor and says this:

“One of the greatest parts about being in a relationship is the intimacy you share, but it can be difficult if you’re being watched the whole time.”

This reminds me so much of what Taylor’s currently saying about Joe. Interesting, looking back on it.

7 December 2010 - Jake and Taylor do the “maple latte” pap walk stunt in Brooklyn with Maggie and her daughter. This is the only series of photos of them that I think was a set-up, but that means it’s pretty gross this is the one they chose to bring a child into:

I think the reason this was so obviously a pap walk was to get the “maple latte” in the shot. I’ve already speculated that Taylor had written All Too Well prior to her relationship with Jake, and this stunty pap walk would make sense if she needed to use him to cover for it.

8 December 2010 - Liz makes another weird vague possibly jealous tweet:

Now, in the context of Mine possibly being about Liz and Taylor saying that song is about her “tendency to run from love,” it’s possible Liz is shading Taylor’s pap walk with Jake the previous day. This tweet feels very “back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known.”

However, maybe she’s just really happy with Jason. I don’t know. I don’t know these people.

9 December 2010 - Taylor and Jake drive around LA, Jake yells at the paps.

Compare these to those photos with Taylor Lautner earlier in the timeline. These are not nearly as staged. Take away from that whatever you will.

13 December 2010 - Taylor turns 21. Liz and Caitlin bring her a pizza. Liz tweets at Taylor that she’s changed her life. This is supposedly the birthday that Jake didn’t show up to that The Moment I Knew is about. Liz and Caitlin bringing her pizza if she’s sad about it would make sense...

31 December 2010 - Taylor and Liz spotted together in Nashville. They get Pei Wei and JustJared calls Liz a “gal pal.” Taylor seems upset, possibly about her whole Jake birthday thing. Or possibly something else.

Liz tweets about going for a run and listening to Speak Now:

5 January 2011 - Taylor and Jake break up.

19 January 2011 - Taylor and Jake are spotted together by fans in Nashville, first at a coffee shop and then at dinner. Jake did not have any other business in Nashville, so it can be assumed he came there to talk to Taylor:

CONCLUSION: Were Taylor and Jake real? I don’t know. They really only ever did that one pap walk and didn’t seem to publicly promote each other’s work, as far as I could find, despite both releasing projects while together. The one pap walk they did seems to maybe have been to cover for All Too Well, which had possibly already been written (likely about Liz) before Jake and Taylor started dating.

Were those tweets from Liz jealousy? Or am I reading too much into it?

Either way, Taylor’s had her fun, and now it’s time to maybe start thinking about getting back together with Liz. There’s just one problem: her boyfriend.

The Speak Now Tour Begins (February 2011 - May 2011)

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godess-ofthe-underworld · 3 years

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Love Finds A Way

(sequel to “See You Again”) ( A Hary Hook X Reader story)

Part 6

Harry sauntered into the chip shop after his encounter with the former occupants of the Isle. His mind still drifted to Hadley and her scared expression as he pointed his hook in her face. He mentally kicked himself as he promised her long ago that he would never point his hook at her face.

He groaned as he sat down at a table, kicking his feet up and rubbing his hands down his face slightly smearing the eyeliner around his eyes.

He only put it on because he knew Hadley liked it, she always said it made his eyes seem more menacing, and maybe it would her her to break if she saw it but no such luck.

Uma came around from the back and saw Harry propped against the table. She knocked his feet down, startling the young pirate and causing him to yelp as the chair fell to the floor.

“Well? Is she coming?” Uma asked crossing her arms.

“Yeah I don't see why they wouldn't. I gave them a pretty irresitsable ultimatum.” Harry grunted.

“ Wait.. wait. Who's they?” Uma raised an eyebrow.

“ Mal.”

“And?”

Harry didn't respond right away, he just continued to look at the floor.

“Harry!”

Harry mumbled something as Uma rested her hands on the table.

“What was that?” She tilted her head.

“ Hadley.” Harry spoke, his voice was low and his eyes stayed put on the floor not daring to look at his Capitan.

“Did I tell you to invite the hot head?!” Uma shouted

“ I did it for meself!’ Harry roared as he forcefully stood up, knocking over the chair.

Uma laughed.

“Oh Harry. She left you remember? She doesn't care about you. It's been six months, get over it.” Uma shot.

Each word cut into Harry's chest like a searing red-hot knife.

“ I know.” He whimpered.

“ Just remember where your loyalties lie.” Uma growled.

Uma sauntered away from the table, leaving Harry to pick up his chair.

He sat back down and slammed his head on the he table top groaning as he did.

An hour past and the time for Hadley and Mal to arrive neared closer. Meaning Harry grew more nervous and Uma grew more agitated.

She slammed a tray of fried fish on the table in front of a witch causing some to spill onto the table top.

“ Hey! I wanted the fried clams!” The witch complained.

“ And I wanted a sea pony. Life ain't fair!” Uma retorted, making the witch jump back.

Harry was tapping his hook on the table when the two swing doors flung open.

All heads turned to the two new additions to the shop, some gashping and some growling.

“ We're baaaack.” Mal and Hadley sung still standing in the doorway.

Harry's head shot directly to Hadley as he stood up.

Uma laughed as she went to stand by harry.

“Losers, party of two. Right this way please.” Uma gestured to an empty table in front if them. Uma pushed a chair towards mal, who caught it before it hit her.

“ Place still stinks.” Hadley commented, wrinkling her nose at the putrid smell of fish.

“Oh I'm sorry. We're down a Butler today. Princesses.” Uma scoffed.

Hadley went to pull up an empty chair when a large hand covered hers.

Hadley looked up to see Harry had grabbed her hand, his blue eyes seemed stone cold.

“Let's go. We need to talk.” Harry stated looking anywhere but at her.

Hadley looked to Mal as Harry drug her from the shop by her wrist.

He took her to an alley next to the shop. He let go of her arm and started pacing in front of her.

Hadley cast her eyes to the wet, muddy ground, kicking some rocks around.

“Why?” Harry voice broke through the silence causing Hadley to snap her head to look at him. He'd stopped pacing and was standing in front of Hadley.

When she opened her mouth to ask what he meant he silenced her with his hand.

“You promised me you wouldn't. You promised we would get out of here together. It's been six months Hadley and I've heard nothin’ from you. You're over there living the perfect little life not giving a single care about me. You left me here hoping that you'd come back. Did you even think about me when you chose to stay? Hm? Cause you weren't wearing the necklace then. Just like you aren't now. What? Did you forget I existed the minute you stepped foot in Auradon? Did you ever care about me at all?” Harry's voice got louder and louder and by the time her finished ranting.

Hadely stepped forward. “ That's not true.. I-I-”

“ Save it. You lied to me. I waited six months.. six months for you to come back here. And now the only reason you're here is to get you precious King and princess back.”

“Harry..-” her voice came out broken and quiet.

Before Hadley could return any answers, Mal came slamming out the doors of the shop.

“Hadley! Let's go!” Mal shouted.

Hadley turned back to Harry not sure of what to say. She backed out of the alley keeping her eyes on him. She watched as his head hung and his shoulders slumped as she backed up.

“I never forgot you Harry.” She whispered.

Harry looked up just as her hair flicked around the corner.

Hadley jogged to keep up with Mal who seemed unsettled.

“ Mal wait up! What happened in there?” Hadley panted as she caught up.

Mal stopped and sighed “ Uma wants the wand, in exchange for Ben and Ruby.”

Hadley stared wide eyed as Mal walked on.

'great here we go again with the whole wand thing’ Hadley groaned out loud rushing to catch up.

A/n: Hey guys! forgot it was Friday again yesterday... oops. anyway here is Part 6. if you liked this part and would like part 7 please like and comment. aslo if you would like to read the illustrated version you can do so on my Wattpad (@phelpsphan). As Always if you would like to be added to the tag list please message me. <3 <3 <3 Summary: You would think that six months in Auradon would do any villain kid good. Well, not Hadley. After the events of the Coronation, Hadley's mood took a downward spiral; and for one reason, guilt. She'd broken a promise and left her best friend on the Isle of the Lost. How will she handle seeing him again when certain circumstances bring her back to the Isle? Will she finally tell him what she really feels?

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in Descendants. Hadley and the plot between her and Harry are mine.

Tag list: @unded-bride

#harry hook #harry hook imagine #harry hook x reader #Hades #daughter of hades

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 13

Parts 1-12 Word Count: 3,000 Tag list: @not-gbd @styles-dolan @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan @dolansficsandpics @graysavant @baby-turtles

A/N: Next part will be the “finale” and part 15 will be the epilogue to the series (omg we made it guys)

Summary: Grayson decides to confront Kate about their situation but is interrupted by her unlucky morning.

Grayson grew tireless of waiting for Ethan to wake up. He sat in an armchair in their rental home and tapped his foot against the floor. He looked down at his phone, noting that a whole ten minutes had passed since he last checked.

“C’mon E,” Grayson groaned under breath. He liked his lips. He gazed to the side; his eyes found a bowl of fruit on his island counter. He couldn’t eat. His internal organs felt like they were being slowly twisted around a spool. He couldn’t even think about eating.

He rubbed his eyes, which stung from his lack of sleep. If he wanted to lie to himself, Grayson would say he got about two hours of sleep last night. But Grayson was an honest man who knew he had barely closed his eyes last night.

Every time he closed his eyes, she was there. When he rested his eyelids, he was faced with visons of luscious dark hair, pink pouty lips, and wide brown eyes speckled with gold trails. When he tried to shake those mental images, his body would enchant his mind with a faint sweet, citrus scent; a silvery, velvet voice; and the feeling of iridescent, silky skin. When his body and mind worked together to torture him, he could almost feel the parting of two plush, perfect lips finding their way to his. Grayson exhaled in a rough tone. He bit down on his bottom lip, causing the blister that had formed in the night before to release a drop of blood.

Grayson had been living in this cycle since late last night. His entire being would become consumed by the idea of Kate, and the thoughts would only fade into the pain of slamming his incisor onto the corner of his bottom lip. His mental mutiny did not reserve much room for him to develop actual thoughts about what he wanted to say to her. In truth, he had barely decided about what he wanted to do.

Grayson’s eyes dug holes into Ethan’s bedroom door. His foot tapped furiously against the ground. As much as Grayson dearly loved Ethan’s girlfriend, he sat there and wished Ethan hadn’t been on Facetime until 1AM last night.

Grayson hadn’t looked in a mirror that morning. If he did, he would have been faced with the blood shot eyes, swollen mouth, and stubble that greeted Ethan when he slumped out of his room for his morning pee. Ethan’s door opened with a low rasping sound coming from its hinges. Grayson’s head immediately bounced up at the sign of his brother. Ethan furrowed his bro, confused as to why his brother’s face looked so worn, and why Grayson’s posture looked like he was both a man ready to cry and a man ready to start a fight.

Ethan opened his mouth to comment but was quickly interrupted by Gray, “—Were you going to see Kate today?” Ethan blinked a few times, the question ricocheted off him like his mind was made of rubber. He met his tongue to the top of his mouth a few times, eyes still glazed with sleep.

Grayson became louder, more forceful, “Were you going to see Kate today?” He enunciated each letter in perfect form.

Ethan shook his, caught completely off guard. “Um no—wait actually yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I was going stop by at like 3 maybe and drop off some groceries—” Grayson interrupted for the second time that morning, “But she’s not going anywhere right? Not the doctor again?”

Ethan fixed his posture, wondering why his brother was interrogating him so early in the morning, “No not for another two weeks I think—” “Thanks” Grayson did not waste time rushing to his Porsche and backing out of their driveway.

Kate grunted from her position on the floor. The tiles felt painfully cold against her wet skin. She whined audibly as her body ached underneath her. Her stitches pulled at her flesh, creating an anguish at the end of the dead weight that was her left leg.

She tossed a handful of soaking wet hair over her shoulder. Her breath became hastier as she reached her arms behind her and tried to lift herself off the tile floor with all her mind. Her voice transformed into an indiscernible amalgamation of strained wails. Just as her elbows opened slightly, her fingers collapsed under her tense wrists and her body was launched back into her original position.

She stopped struggling for a moment. She inhaled a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. With a layer of anxiety washing away from her tense being, she collected her thoughts. Her phone? It was in her purse, which was in her bedroom, which was through the bathroom door—no good. Knocking on the wall she shared with her next-door neighbor? They were never home— it wouldn’t be any use. Yelling for help? She was in the inside of her apartment, which was four stories off of the ground in an apartment complex—she would need to scream very loud for anyone to notice.

She was stuck. Kate had fallen from her shower stool, which she used to prop herself up and her post-op foot on the side of the tub. She landed in a naked ball on her bathroom floor, legs in the hair and head in the corner between the wall and tub.

Kate felt helpless; an emotion that grew like a malignant tumor in an independent woman like her.

Her mind began to spiral into terrible scenarios of distress. Her heart pounded in her chest, making sounds that mimicking Big Ben striking midnight over London on a mid-world war 2 night.

She yelped in shock. There was a knock at her front door. At first, she gaped in anxiety. After a few breaths and a second knock, her mind reminded her that a person at her front door would offer her refuge from her current predicament. “Ethan! Is that you!” she hoped she was screaming loud enough for him to hear her all the way from the bathroom.

Grayson could have identified Kate’s voice in a crowd of one million people. He was so anxious that his brain didn’t process how faint her voice sounded from behind her front door. “No,” his voice was gruff, “It’s Gray—” his voice faltered, “Grayson. Can I come in?”

Kate exhaled. She swore that she had pissed off some higher deity, who chose to give her one of the worst mornings of her life. How else would she end up naked, soaking wet, in a helpless mess on her bathroom floor with her gorgeous ex-boyfriend standing outside her front door? “Now’s not the best time!” Grayson huffed. She was okay with Ethan but not with him. He groaned and ran his hands through his hair, stopping to pull at the strands in the front. His jaw tensed up before he knocked on the door, with more conviction this time. “Please! I really need to talk to you!” His voice was hoarse and husky, fraught with masculine energy and scattered emotions.

“shit,” Kate mumbled under her breath. She loved that Grayson was persistent and dedicated but asked herself why he couldn’t take a hint. She wondered what she could say that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, when her shower curtain fell from the rod and hit the bathroom floor with a clatter. In her tension, she hadn’t realized that her good leg had been wound around the edge of the curtain in her fall, and that the stress on the material slipped it from the hooks in a swift motion.

Grayson’s brow furrowed as he heard the snapping sounds from the other side of her front door. He knocked again, more dubiously this time, “Everything alright in there?”Kate took too long to answer. Grayson started again, “Do you need any help?” Kate closed her eyes and leaned the back of her head against the corner of her wall and tub. She recognized the irony of his question: it was the same question she asked him the day they met on the beach when he hurt himself.

Kate picked her head and scanned her surroundings. She noted the shower curtain that was strewn over the floor and toilet. She wiggled her toes from where her feet hung in the air. She eyed the pool of water in the middle of the bathroom. She sighed. She reached as far as she could with her left arm. The tips of her fingers touched the shower curtain, she grabbed it quickly and tried to cover herself as best she could in her position.

She looked down and wondered if it was worth bringing her complex emotions toward Grayson into this mess. She decided she had no choice, “There’s a spare key taped to the bottom of the mail slot!” Grayson ran a single, large finger across the bottom edge of her mailbox. He reached the bulge of a small, metal object secured by a piece of masking tape. He ripped it off quickly and harshly inserted it into her front door. He tried to focus on turning the lock, silently asking that the alarming thoughts in his head to leave.

He shoved the door open the second that the lock clicked. He stepped through the threshold and looked around. Her apartment looked the same way it had when he had last been here: when he made the idiot mistake of asking her to keep their relationship private from her own mother. Grayson had left the apartment with the deflated spirit of a freshly broken heart; that morning, he was returning with the invigoration of a man trying to help the woman he loved. He looked around, not seeing her. “Kate?” he asked, he was terrified of not hearing an answer.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding when she replied, “I’m in the bathroom!”. Her high-pitched voice sounded exhausted, and her voices left her lips with a twinge of fear.

Grayson’s long legs bounded him in extensive strides as he reached her bathroom door. He took in a breath. His hand was almost dainty when it rapped on the door, “Can I come in?” His voice wavered no less than three times as he asked.

“Yeah” she sounded drained.

Grayson pushed the door open. His eyes went wide when he didn’t see her at first. He felt like his mind was playing a trick on him. It wasn’t until he peered down at the bright blue shower curtain on the floor that he found her. She looked like a broken doll. Her hair dripped onto the bathmat beneath her, her skin was dewy from her shower, but her limbs were contorted. Her post-op foot was swinging in the air, above all her other limbs. Her shower curtain didn’t do much to veil her naked curves.

Grayson swallowed: confused and aghast at the scene in front of him. His cheeks faded into a light shade of pink. His breaths became shaky as he failed to find words.

“Can you help me up?” her voice sounded so small to him.

Grayson nodded; his mouth went dry when he tried to respond audibly. He took in a loud breath and kneeled. Kate held out her arms, like a small child asking for a hug, but Grayson did not take them. Instead, he placed one arm firmly under the small of her back and the other one under her knee. He scooped her from the floor and stood up. Kate’s arms latched around his neck as he delicately walked her out of the bathroom, into her bedroom, and laid her on her bed.

Grayson licked his lips before biting down on his blister again. He felt the top of her ass against one of his arms. The feeling of having her so close to his being flooded his treacherous mind with memories of waking up next to her. His nostrils nearly seized at the attack of her sweet, citrus scent. His mouth went dry. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, his heart started shaking.

Kate set her head back on a pillow and closed her eyes. She exhaled, grateful to be from the floor but anxious to now interact with Grayson in front of her. When she opened her eyes, found Grayson at her closet. “What are you doing?” her tone sounded more accusatory and less appreciative than she would have wanted.

“Getting you something to wear,” Grayson was grateful for any distraction that peeled his eyes from his naked ex-girlfriend. Well, naked except for a shower curtain. Grayson’s heart heaved at the sight of the t-shirt he had left here their first night. He remembered walking to his car shirtless, not wanting to lose the precious sight of her wrapped up in his clothes. His emotions got the better of him as he picked up the shirt and tossed it at the end of her bed, “Here you go.” “Thanks,” Kate mumbled. If Grayson had been looking at her, he would have seen the tension hit her face when she realized what shirt he had offered her. Trying to be polite, Grayson had found a place to stand in front of the window while she put on some clothes. “Why were you in a shower curtain anyway?” Grayson’s voice was lower than usual, trying to disguise the myriad of emotions dancing in his head. “Modesty,” Kate stuck her head through the hole of the shirt, “I didn’t want you to see me naked.” She patted the fabric down, “You can turn around now.” Grayson raised an eyebrow in a way that questioned her desire for modest, even though he just gave her that without asking. “Silly, I know,” Kate commented before laying back on the bed. She closed her eyes, as if she was trying to reset the moment, they were in.

Grayson’s eyes searched the scene in front of him. A part of him melted at this scene: the woman he loved, dressed in his shirt, with her wet hair laying across her pillow, her angelic face in a peaceful state. Another part of him wanted to run away, to forever avoid the feelings that she stirred in him. She catalyzed such an emotional reaction in him: it was nearly dangerous with how fiercely his body responded for her.

If Kate was aware of Grayson’s internal struggle, she didn’t show it. She was calm, or at least calm compared to the scared, helpless mess of a person she had been a few minutes earlier. She picked her head up from the pillow, opening her eyes and meeting Grayson’s gaze, “Thanks for that, I really appreciate it.” Her voice was soft and sincere.

“No problem,” Grayson’s mouth fell in a flat line, “Just being a kind stranger.”

Kate laughed. She didn’t think before her mouth let out a sound, triggering a proud smirk on Grayson’s face. He loved her laugh; it was sweet and right; just like everything else about her. Every time he saw her smile, it was like the first time. Her eyes held solace for him, a kind and peaceful place to escape to when the terrors of LA contorted his heart. He looked at her and saw a guilty pleasure: his own personal paradise in a harsh, cruel world.

She ignited his most romantic fantasies. He wanted to dance around her kitchen on a Sunday morning, making pancakes and decorating each other in kisses. He wanted to be washed over by nerves as he carried her engagement ring in his pocket, frantically planning how to ask for her forever. He wanted to know what she would look like pregnant with their first child, was it possible for her to be even more beautiful than she was now?

Sitting on her bed in front of him, Grayson couldn’t take his eyes off him. There was something so inherently feminine about her; sure, she was a girl, but she was more. Her lips were perfectly blossomed. Her eyes were kind and sure. Her body was like a flower, curved and edged in a way that asked the question how that kind of natural beauty was possible.

And yet, there was something fragile about her. There was something like a newborn baby. She was untouched by the evils of his world: one where people would gladly tear him down to build themselves up. She was physically delicate, as he had just experienced by finding her on the bathroom floor unable to get up. Grayson’s heart wanted so badly to protect her from world with all his being.

And even so, there was a toughness about her. She was strong: she could handle any emotional situation a thousand times better than Grayson could. She was brave: facing a new life in LA with no support but never complaining. She was courageous: never fearing to speak her mind, no matter the audience. Grayson wanted to be like her, as much as he wanted to be with her.

Standing in her bedroom, faced with all these realities, Grayson’s mouth went dry. His eyes found the floor. His blood pumped into his brain with too much vigor. The blister in his mouth spasmed in pain. He swallowed with a heavy tongue. His eyes looked back at her, meeting her gaze. He recognized the concern in her eyes. His chest rose and fell quickly. “No- “Grayson started, realizing that he was almost dizzy, “I can’t do this.” His legs used wide strides to fly him out of her apartment while she called out after him. The outside air felt cold on his skin as he closed the front door, making him realize he was sweating profusely. Kate had just grabbed her crutches and hopped across her apartment to look down from her porch, hear Grayson’s car door close, and watch him zip away into the LA traffic.

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan x oc #dolan twins #fanfic #story #youtuber #ethan #ethan dolan #grayson

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cas-kingdom · 5 years

Text

World Changer

A/N: Reader is only about 11 in this, and the youngest Shelby, as per usual. :p

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: World Changer

Summary: You buy Tommy a present with your first ever pay cheque.

Words: 3623

“Tommy! Tommy!”

Said man turned at the shouts of his name and noticed the blur racing towards him just in time to open his arms out, lean down, and catch you as you launched yourself at him. He stumbled slightly, a look of shock briefly crossing his face, but the corners of his lips were pulling upwards nevertheless.

“She’s gonna give you a heart attack one day,” Polly commented from where she was sat at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea and reading the paper.

“Don’t I know it,” Tommy muttered quietly. He shifted you and held you in one arm before removing his hat and placing it on the hook by the door. “Now,” he said afterwards, chucking your chin with his free hand, “what’s got you breaking one of the rules by running through the house and jumping at me?”

You had the good grace to blush a little under his raised eyebrows, but rushed to explain yourself nonetheless. “You came home,” you told him with a shrug.

Tommy’s eyebrows rose higher. “Yeah. I’ve been down at Uncle Charlie’s.”

“I know, but I was waiting for you!”

“Were you, really?” He stepped over to the table Polly was sat at and pulled a chair back, sitting down and placing you on his knee. “It was just too boring without me here, was it?” He gave you a wink and smiled at your giggle.

Polly snorted. “She only came back home herself not ten minutes ago.”

“Really? Where were you?”

“I was out with Arthur,” you said. A toothy grin was quickly making its way onto your face as you suddenly reached down to supposedly take something out of your trouser pocket. If you noticed the way you were losing your balance on your brother’s leg as you did so, causing Tommy to grab at your small waist to steady you, you didn’t say anything. He watched with curious eyes as you apparently found nothing in the pocket you’d been looking in and reached around for the other. Your eyes brightened the moment your hand came into contact with something, and he rose a dark eyebrow as you pulled out a black box. “Here!” Your voice was excited as you held it out to him.

Tommy took it, though his eyebrow didn’t lower. “What’s this?” he asked, glancing down at the box. It wasn’t too small, nor too big, though it had a velvety touch to it, like the boxes people bought wedding rings in. He briefly glanced over at Polly, but she surprisingly looked just as curious to see what was inside.

“A present,” you said, almost bouncing on his leg. “I bought it for you!”

He seemed to be raising his eyebrows a lot today. “Did you? You and what money, eh?”

“The money you gave me yesterday.”

He stopped for a moment and stared inquisitively at you, cocking his head slightly to the side. Your eyes were fixed on the box in his hands, and he knew simply from that that you were probably more excited to open it than he was.

The money you were talking about was undoubtedly the ‘pay cheque’ (it hadn’t been a cheque, but you’d loved to call it that to make it seem more official) he’d given you the day before. He’d found it in his best interests to start giving you little jobs around the house and shop and reward you for it – preparation for the future, he supposed. He’d handed you a few coins, to which you’d been elated at, and watched with a fond shake of his head as you bounced off to show your brothers. It was a meagre amount of money, he knew, but you were a Shelby, and there wasn’t a lot nowadays that Shelbys had to pay for.

Which was why he was so intrigued by whatever this was that you – and Arthur, apparently – had found it necessary to put money towards.

“Now,” he said, “what’re you doing, going and spending your first ever pay cheque on me?” He shifted his hold on you slightly and your grin widened.

“I wanted to!” you told him excitedly. “And Arthur said I could,” you added, in case of the strange thought that you’d be in trouble for spending your money on someone that wasn’t yourself. Tommy chuckled at that and nodded, noticing how Polly had set down the paper on the table behind you and sat back, mug in her hands as she silently watched the exchange. “Please open it, Tommy?”

He smiled and took his arm away from you, reaching over to open the box. You were biting your lip in anticipation, and though that was a habit he and his brothers had been trying to break for some time now, it was only really when you did it out of excitement, so he let it pass.

The box opened exactly as a wedding ring box would, and he almost expected to find a band of gold or silver in there to accompany it. What he did find inside surprised him.

It was a pocket watch. A beautiful one at that – gold rimmed, the roman numerals painted on a crystal white surface beneath clear glass while the gold-plated cogs sat perfectly placed in the middle. The chain was in a little pocket next to the one holding the watch, gold yet again and shining in the light streaming through the kitchen window. It was quite an expression of wonder on his face that you saw when you looked up to gauge his reaction. “Do you like it?” you asked almost anxiously, beginning to worry your lip even more, and your brother gently tapped your mouth in warning before reaching in to gingerly pull the watch out of its casing.

“I do,” he said. “I like it very much.” And he did. The pocket watch he had on him at the moment had been a gift from an old friend of his before the war, but it was weary and scratched. This one was a beauty, and he didn’t believe he’d been quite so amazed at something given to him before in his life. It was definitely worth more than the coins he’d dropped in your hands yesterday, that was for sure, so he made a mental note to thank Arthur for covering the majority of its cost with his own money. It was plain to see that he hadn’t told you the watch cost a fair bit more than your day’s earnings, but he supposed that was the beauty of it… there was definitely something about watching your younger siblings pick out gifts for you and believe they were buying it solely with the few pounds they’d been given. The excitement in their eyes… the belief that they were doing something nice for someone they loved. He smiled. At least there was proof he was raising you right.

“Take a look at this, Pol,” he said, leaning forward and handing the pocket watch to his aunt. She took it with a smile and immediately set to gazing at it, obviously satisfying your need to hear that you’d chosen the perfect gift.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” she said, glancing up. “That was a very nice thing to do for your brother, sweetheart.”

You smiled in delight at the praise before turning back to look at your brother. “Do you really like it?” Tommy chuckled. He looked knowingly at Polly over your shoulder and her smile grew as she passed it back to him. “Because… because there was another one that I saw, and I couldn’t decide between the two, but Arthur said you might like that one better so I got that one, but if you don’t like it I can-”

Tommy rolled his eyes and quickly shut you up by wrapping his arms around your little body and pulling you to his chest. He nestled his head against your own for a few seconds before moving and pressing a kiss to your unruly hair. Oh, how he wished you’d stay this small forever. What was he going to do when you were older and too big to fit on his lap?

“I love the watch, Y/N, truly,” he told you honestly, pulling you away from him a moment in favour of cupping the sides of your face with both hands. He smiled at your rosy cheeks and bright eyes that were staring into his own. “I feel very loved that you chose to spend your own money on me.” His smile grew a little cheekier. “I mean… I just know how much you love those sweets down at Mister Brown’s bakery. I wonder how many cakes you could’ve bought with the amount of money I gave you…” He rose an eyebrow as though in question, and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“My big brother’s better than any cake,” you said, and Tommy chuckled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against your own.

“That’s my darling girl,” he said quietly. He pressed a kiss to your nose and released your face from his grasp, leaning over to pick up the watch once again where he’d set it down on the table.

“Besides,” you said as he did so, a spark of mischief shining in your eyes, “Arthur already got me four. They’re over there in the bag.” You pointed behind you at a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter, and Polly, most unlike her, snorted at your sudden revelation.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up and he quickly pulled you towards him once again, holding you against his chest as his dexterous fingers danced along your sides while he nuzzled his stubbled chin against your sensitive neck. You spluttered, scrunching your neck up, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “What was that about me being better than cakes, eh?” he asked. “You resorted to lying to your big brother, now?”

“No, no!” you managed to get out between laughs. “I was joking! I was joking, Tom!” He stilled his fingers and chuckled softly as you all but collapsed against him. “He bought them for me after I got your present,” you told him. “Promise.” He briefly glanced down at you, mock-suspicion shining in his eye.

“Alright, then. I suppose I can forgive you.” You smiled up at him and sat straight, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head against his shoulder. He gently pat your back. “Thank you for this, little one. Really.”

“You’re welcome, Tom.” He could hear the bubbling exhilaration in your voice and couldn’t help but smile over at Polly. He supposed you were so used to receiving gifts from your brothers and thanking them that you’d never really been thanked for something before yourself.

“Seriously, though,” he said. “What made you decide to spend it on me?” He was genuinely curious. You and Finn were famous for flouncing off to Mister Brown’s bakery as soon as anyone dropped even a single penny in your hands… for you to want to spend it on someone else was a sweet thing, but nevertheless not something commonly seen from the two baby Shelbys.

You shrugged against his shoulder. “I remember Aunt Polly telling us to always spend our money wisely. And I wanted you to be happy. You’re not happy much anymore.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment, staring a little dolefully at you. He was almost certain Polly had been speaking to him and the boys when she’d said that. And as for the latter… well. He supposed it was true. The end of the war hadn’t been that long ago, after all, and happiness was a rarity in these days whether you were a soldier or not.

He cleared his throat when the woman across from him shifted in her seat a little noisily, probably attempting to gain his attention. You felt another pat on your back. “Yeah, well, when you’re as young as you are, you don’t need to be so wise… next time, go and buy yourself some cakes and save Arthur a bit of money, yeah?” He turned his head to look down at you in time to see a small nod.

“Okay, Tom.” He was relieved with the lack of argument at that. If he knew you at all – and he knew you better than anyone – then he was quite sure you’d soon be forming a little plan in your mind to buy each of your brothers a present every time he handed you some money… and poor, indulgent Arthur would be broke by the end of it all. He smiled halfheartedly at the thought.

A small tug at his coat pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced down to see you absently fingering the pocket watch he already had on him. He gently detached it from its place and held it out to you. “Here,” he said, “I want you to have it.”

You looked hesitantly up at him. “But this is yours.”

“And I’ve just been given a shiny new one, haven’t I? I want you to have it. A gift for a gift, shall we say.” He smiled before nodding his head towards it, and you picked it up from his hand, delicately stroking a finger across the glass. You didn’t believe you’d ever actually seen him without the watch; he’d been given it in a time you had trouble remembering nowadays. There were plenty of nicks and scratches on it, but somehow you knew that you wouldn’t like it as much if it were brand new. The scrapes on it proved just how loved it had been.

“Where do I put it, Tommy?” you asked.

“You keep it safe in your pocket ‘til I can buy you a coat like mine.”

Your eyes brightened immediately when you snapped your head up to look at your brother, a huge grin on your face. Whether Tommy liked it or not, you were always looking for ways in which you could be more like him and the boys. A coat was a pitiful step closer to that, but it was a step closer all the same, and he could see the absolute gushing excitement coursing through you. “Thanks, Tom,” you said, leaning forward once again to wrap your arms around his neck. You rose slightly this time on your knees so you were able to rest the side of your head on top of his shoulder before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Love you.”

Tommy chuckled and gave you his own kiss. “You’re a good girl, Y/N.”

You sat back, hands on his shoulders, and shrugged, a mischievous smile on your face. “I know.”

Polly shook her head from where she was sitting. “The cheek,” she muttered, but she gave you a wink nonetheless when you turned to look at her.

“Off you go, little imp.” Your brother reached under your arms and lifted you onto your feet, ruffling your hair. “Go find Finn and make sure he’s not getting himself into any trouble.”

“And make sure you’re back here by one for your lunch,” Polly called after you as you made for the door.

“Okay!” Was all both she and her nephew heard after you disappeared around the corner.

Tommy’s gaze lingered on the kitchen door for a moment before he sat back and crossed one leg over the other, reaching for the pocket watch once again and silently admiring every detail, turning it over and holding it up to the light. Polly watched for a couple seconds before she spoke up. “You’re terrified to wear that out, now, aren’t you?”

He breathed a laugh. “She must have picked up one of the most expensive watches,” he said. “Arthur doesn’t know how to say no to that girl.”

Polly smiled. “Does anyone?”

He shrugged, a smile pulling at his lips. The answer to that was most definitely ‘no’. You had your entire family wrapped around each of your fingers, and it was no secret.

“Still, though,” Polly said, picking her paper up. “If she finds more joy in buying her big brother a gift instead of spending the money on herself, then we’ve not got much to worry about. In fact, I do believe the world would be a little less shit if everyone else felt the same.”

Tommy contemplated his aunt’s words for a moment. He understood it perfectly – many people in the world no longer had the time or effort to care about anyone other than themselves. He supposed it was why he’d been so surprised to receive anything from you today; for a brief moment, he’d even wondered about the possibility that he’d missed his own birthday. Random gifts just weren’t very common (unless you were an older brother doting on his younger sister, of course. He, John and Arthur could personally vouch for that fact).

Finn had been receiving small amounts of money for a while, now, as a reward for helping around, and Tommy was sure his little brother had never once thought to wait at least ten minutes before dashing off to spend it. He hadn’t really put much thought to it, however. Finn was a twelve-year-old boy, after all. What did he expect? That he’d put it in a money box to save it all?

He’d never stopped to think about what you might do with your money. Seeing as you’d grown up with Finn, he supposed he’d just figured you’d act the same as him. Nevertheless, he could tell now that there were going to be some differences. As long as your brothers bought your sweets, he believed you might actually be a little more considerate with your earnings. That would definitely be something worth having in the future.

“Yeah... wonder who she got that from?” he said with a short chuckle, gently placing his watch back in the box and closing it.

Polly glanced up and held him in a steady gaze. “You know,” she said, “practically everything she does is the result of something or other you’ve taught her.”

Tommy rose an eyebrow to himself and heaved a sigh. “I’m not the only one raising her.”

“Oh, stop with the fucking modesty.” Despite her slight admonishment, she couldn’t help but smile fondly. “She’s a remarkable little girl and that’s all because of you.” She stared at him, eyes almost daring him to challenge her on it. Of course, Tommy wasn’t raising you alone, but he was the predominant guardian in your life and held the most responsibility for you over the rest of your family. He praised you, disciplined you, taught you, protected you... he often wondered what his life would be like if he wasn’t constantly busying himself looking after you. A lot less interesting, that was for certain.

And a lot less embellished, he thought wryly when his eyes caught sight of the box once again. He really would have to ask Arthur how much it’d cost him. Somehow, he didn’t think your five pounds would have made much of a difference.

He didn’t realise he’d been smiling at that until Polly cleared her throat and he flicked his gaze up to see her looking victoriously at him. Rolling his eyes, he slumped in his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. “If it’s all because of me, then why hasn’t she turned out like me?” he asked.

“She has turned out like you, you fool.” She shook her head when he rose an eyebrow. “Thomas, you may not think you’re a good man, but one only has to sit in a room with both you and your sister to see that you are. You are not the battle-crazed lunatic you seem to imagine yourself as.” Tommy made a face at that, but Polly ignored it. “You’ve done well with Y/N. Truly. Finn... well, Finn’s a mystery in himself-” Tommy chuckled and her smile widened- “but Y/N... you keep doing what you’re doing, Tommy, and one day she will change the world. I swear it.”

Tommy’s face softened, and his eyes strayed to the box once again. Strange how one simple thing could garner a conversation like this. Discussions with Tommy Shelby didn’t often go so deep. And it was for that reason entirely that, after a couple seconds, he realised what was happening and cleared his throat a little awkwardly, smiling at his aunt before standing to his feet. “I’m gonna, uh, go see how John’s doing in the shop,” he told her, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Polly smiled knowingly and returned to her paper. “Alright, Tom.” She knew he wasn’t accustomed to being praised, especially by her, so let him go.

The halls were pretty quiet, which was normal for first thing in the morning, so Tommy doubted John would need much help in the shop, but he didn’t think he could have lasted much longer in the kitchen. He wondered briefly if Arthur would be with John, giving him the opportunity to ask him about the pocket watch, but that thought was swept away immediately when he heard laughing from outside. He slowed his pace enough for him to look out the window, and he smiled faintly at the sight of you, Finn, Isaiah and a few more of your friends playing by the house.

Keep doing what you’re doing. He breathed a laugh as you tackled Finn to the floor and the both of you began playfully wrestling. If it would keep you as young, innocent and carefree as you were now, he would gladly keep doing what he was doing.

But when you got older?

World changer.

He liked the sound of that.

Peaky Masterpost

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