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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

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As Long As You Need (Reader x Adam Sackler)

Summary: Adam and Reader are hookup buddies. Adam gets concerned that you don't want to see him for a few weeks and comes over to check on reader. Reader is struggling with anxiety/depression and Adam comforts them through a panic attack.

Warnings: Depression, anxiety & panic attacks

Note: This was the fic I wrote for the Summer 2021 @adcuficexchange for LondonID!🥰 I hope this fic is something that resonates with people, I know mental health is a vast and personal subject but I hope something hits home. Even if it's just some beautiful care from our favourite gremlin 💕

The light of the day was fading slowly and the grey cover of dusk was slipping its way into the room. You lay in bed, head tucked against the pillows, body exhausted with the expense of the energy anxiety was taking from you. You felt empty and yet full to the brim, your mind weighed so heavy that you could barely move most days. The second you heard the loud thumping knocks on your front door you jolted as if waking up from a bad dream.

“Kid you in there?” Adams voice came, muffled by the thick wood of the doors between you, booming through your silence. You realised in that moment that you hadn’t spoken to him or seen him for a while and as someone who was a pretty regular occurrence in your life it suddenly felt strange to hear his voice after such a long time, you pulled your phone out from under the pillow and unlocked it. Your eyes screwed shut at the blinding light, but peeking through your eyelashes you checked your messages. Your last text to him had been nearly 3 weeks ago, then the page was just filled with him texting you again and again. All of which, in the haze of your mind, you had ignored. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him; you craved his cheeky smile, soft hair and adorable galaxy of freckles that smattered his skin. It was just the thought of having to explain the tornado that was tearing you apart that felt like a crushing pressure you couldn’t bear. Basic daily life was enough, sometimes too much, so anything on top of that you had shut out.

You curled yourself into the sheets a little more, pulling them around your shoulders. Although they were soft cotton the brush of them across your overly sensitive skin felt like sandpaper dragging over a raw exposed nerve. You stayed as still as possible whilst his knocks continued to echo through your apartment.

In a way you wondered if you had any obligation to him at all, you guys just hooked up every now and again after meeting at a mutual friends birthday party a year or so ago. Nothing serious, no dates, just fucking. He scratched an itch for you so you didn’t have to brave the dating world that daunted you. He was fun, he made you laugh but he didn’t pressure you to spend any more time with him than coming over to hold you face down into your mattress allowed.

The knocks turned to bangs of a fist and you pulled your blanket over your head, maybe he’d just go away if he thought you weren’t home. Your body thrummed with the disturbance of your comfortable silence and it made you uneasy. A slight nausea rippled through your throat. “I know you’re home” his voice bellowed, you closed your eyes and didn’t respond. “Open the fucking door kid” he shouted, he didn’t sound angry but you couldn’t quite make out the tone. He’d never used it before around you that’s for sure, he almost sounded worried. Then there was more thumping on the door, “Kid, for fucks sake your sweet old lady neighbour is looking at me like I’m fucking nuts, open the door”

You sighed and slung yourself off the bed onto your feet. The rush of movement made your head spin; your muscles and joints ached with a lack of energy. You tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the main room of your apartment, hoping that he couldn’t hear your deliberately soft padding footsteps. With your eyes trained on the door you didn’t notice the chair sticking out from the table and you bumped it as you passed. You froze dead still waiting to see if he’d heard it.

“I can hear you rustling around in there. Just open the fucking door and talk to me”

“I don’t want you to see me” you replied hesitantly, not raising the volume of your voice too high knowing he could hear you through the door now. The croak of your voice finally speaking was crackly and broken. “Why not?”

“I… I don’t look great” you looked at yourself in the reflection of the painting hanging on the wall. In the glass you could just about see yourself looking back; your hair was greasy and dishevelled, your eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red and dark circles created a deep shadow underneath them. You suddenly balked at how awful you actually looked, you hadn’t showered in a few days and it really showed. Your face looked kind of gaunt with the limited food and sleep you’d given yourself for the last few weeks, mind always racing with one thought after another. The racing thoughts only leaving space for the basics of working at your laptop for 8 hours a day and activities to numb your mind till a restless bedtime. “Are you kidding?” he scoffed, thumping his fist once against the door, “I’ve seen you sweating, crying and covered in my cum… I don’t think you looking a little messy is going to be bother me” You cringed at how loud he was talking and in your embarrassment you frantically pulled the door open, “Jesus Adam don’t say that so loud my neighbours will hear y-“ you paused mid-sentence when you saw how he was looking at you. He was shocked and trying to hide it but his eyes were wide with sympathy. You instantly went to close the door on him again but he put his overly large foot in the way.

“Nope, no way! You opened it, I’m like a vampire, you’ve got to let me in now” he smiled cheekily. You sighed and let go of the door walking away from him. “Listen I don’t know why you’re here” you said, voice trailing behind you as you made your way to the couch hearing him step inside and close the door behind him, “I don’t really think I’m in any fit state to be fucking anyone” “I’m not here to fuck you” he retorted, for some reason that kind of stung. “Then why are you here?” you said, nestling into the couch cushions as he firmly placed himself standing in front of you. Adam was staring down at you with that intense glare he always seemed to have and you squinted your eyes, hurting due to the light from the windows, to look up at him. “Why am I here? You haven’t talked to me for like… three weeks. What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? I thought I was going to find you rotting in the bathtub or some shit” You rolled your eyes “I’m fine” “Oh right this…” he paused, flailing his arms at the quite frankly disgusting state of your living room, “… this is ‘fine’?” “This is as good as it gets” you muttered under your breath. He scoffed and you looked up at him, you took a second to take him in. He’d clearly run here, the beads of sweat were trailing gently down his temples and had matted the curly little front pieces of his hair. The outfit he was wearing, a dark blue cut off tank top, grey knee length shorts and heavy tan work boots over cream socks, would look kind of uncoordinated on anyone else but something about Adam always just… made sense.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing” you rolled your eyes again, “You know you can just go right? I don’t even know why you’re bothering”

“What are you talking about kid? I wanted to make sure you were alright. You went all ghost on me and I was worried about you”

“Worried?” now it was your turn to scoff, you could feel the sickening panic rolling around inside your stomach and you needed him to leave.

“Yeah kid… worried” Adams voice suddenly had a tinge of anger behind it and it made the panic swirl harder around inside you.

“Well I don’t need you to worry about me. That’s not your job, your job is to fuck me and leave. And you’re good at that. So you do your job and I’ll do mine”

“Not true” he retorted, face screwed up a little against the harshness of your words.

“You were the one that set those rules Adam” you replied, frustration tainting your words “You don’t need to act like you give a shit”

“Hey when I commit, I really commit” “Commit to what?” you shouted, losing a little of your patience as your ears started to ring and the blood pumped through your body like a steady beat of music. “Commit to you!” he yelled back “We may not be dating or whatever but when I want someone in my life I work for that. Clearly you don’t…we are supposed to be fucking friends after all!”

He had every right to be mad, you had barely treated him like a human being lately and the wash of guilt made your heart start to jump in its rhythm. You could feel the brush of heat up the back of your neck and your pulse thudding in your ears. You shook your head wishing away what you knew was happening; the panic of the overwhelming sense of everything was rising up from your toes. He couldn’t see you like this, it was too embarrassing.

Although your breath was basically coming out like gasps you looked up at him and firmly said “Please leave”

He shook his head “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re avoiding me. Did I do something?” You stood up from your seat on the couch but didn’t get very far, your body felt over stimulated and you couldn’t get your mind clear enough to decide where to go to escape him. So you started pacing back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

“Adam please just go” this time your voice betrayed you even further, the tell-tale break in your speech giving away the tears that had begun to brim in your eyes. You pushed the base of your palms harshly into your eye sockets, rubbing away the tears. “Hey hey hey” he said softly, reaching out for your wrists and you flinched back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Please just leave!” you shouted, panicked breath coming out of you in heavy pants. “I can’t breathe” you whispered to yourself turning away from him. Your tears, now virtually unstoppable, cascaded down your cheeks as the panic truly set in. You swayed slightly as you began to feel light-headed.

“Tell me what you need” you heard him say, but his voice felt like it was miles away from you even as he stood mere steps away with his hands outstretched slightly in your direction.

This was it, you were officially going crazy. You couldn’t even handle a simple conversation or own up to your shitty actions. You stole a glance at Adam, his eyebrows were pulled down with concern watching you and a wave of nausea rolled up into the back of your throat. He was going to think you were insane after this, this was the last time you were ever going to see him and this was how you were acting. You felt your cheeks heat up, burning with panic and embarrassment. One of the only things that kept you afloat, the only thing had made you happy as of late, was going to walk out. You could imagine him telling his friends about the crazy chick he used to fuck on the side, “She just totally flipped out on me, honestly man fucking nuts” you could practically hear his voice already, full of mocking vitriol towards you.

Then you really started to hyperventilate, chest aching with the weight of your gasps, but something in the back of your mind gave you respite… that wasn’t Adam. That wouldn’t be how he would act. He was kind. You glanced up at him as your hands began to shake violently.

“I-I’m sorry” you stuttered out, you felt your body collapse underneath you as the room began to spin around you. He dove forward to catch you as your body buckled down to the hard wooden floor.

“Come here” his voice was gentle and barely audible to you but he held you tight, this time you didn’t flinch and he quickly gathered you into his arms in the fear you would move away from him again. “It’s just a panic attack, you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, it’ll be over soon” As he pulled you into his chest, seating himself on the floor with you, he stretched his long legs out around you so his whole body was caging you against him. Your breath instantly started to slow down as the warmth and closeness of him soothed you. He didn’t speak too much, he just calmed your mind with hushed whispers of “Shhh” and “You’re going to be okay”.

You clung yourself to him, vibrating with the force of the trembles that were wracking your body. Your teeth chattered in your head causing you to screw your eyes closed in pain. Your fingers wound tight in his shirt as your breathing finally began to even out. Your body released some of the tension that was winding your muscles tight and you leant a little more into his chest.

“H-how did you know?” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper as you regained your breath.

He shrugged “My mom used to get them… and my sister for a while. I’m used to it.” he smiled softly, lips merely twitching up at the edges as he gauged your reaction. He stroked his large hand through your tangled hair, massaging his fingers over your scalp as your body relaxed and you sighed. “Better?” he asked, placing a careful kiss to the top of your head. You nodded, the scent of his cologne and sweat drifted over you as you kept yourself gripped against him, not quite ready to be moved from his warmth.

“You didn’t have to do this” you croaked, looking up at him now. He shook his head and rolled his eyes jokingly, a smirk coming over his lips as he does it.

“You know we don’t just have to fuck right? We can be more than that.” he chuckled, holding your face gently with one hand, “We can also talk, we are friends right?”

You nodded again, looking up at him with wide glassy eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose and you scrunched it.

“Listen maybe we’re just friends for a little while. We can… get lunch or walk through the park when the weather gets better. Whatever you want” he shrugged, you smiled at the level of effort he was so clearly trying to give. Adam hated stuff like that, lunches out and walks in the park; he often said how trivial it all seemed to him. He liked to be at home in his own little world. So the fact he was offering to make you feel better was more than enough to bring a smile to your face. You nodded and giggled when he pumped the air with his fist in celebration.

“And you know, if you need someone to come with you to therapy or whatever I can do that too” he mumbled clearly unsure how you would respond, “You still go to therapy right? I know you mentioned it a while ago and I figured-“ he began to ramble nervously. You pressed your hand into his chest and nodded.

You pushed yourself up a little and placed a kiss to his cheek, “That would help, thank you”

He shuffled a little and rose to get to his feet before extending a hand out to you. You clasped your hand across his, so much smaller in his grasp, and used his body weight to pull yourself up on unsteady legs. He wrapped his arms around you a little bit, his body hunched over yours protectively.

“But first, you need food… and a shower” he paused for a moment, making small grunt-like thinking noises as he looked you over. Then all at once he dipped and gathered you up in his arms, you squealed loudly and wrapped your arms around his neck “What are you doing?” you protested through unsure giggles.

He didn’t say anything but started walking towards your bathroom. He kicked the door open with the toe of his boot and swung his arms so that your head just missed the door frame. He propped you, sitting upright, on the edge of your bathtub before reaching up and turning on your shower. He gestured for you to stand as the water began heating up behind you. Soft clouds of steam quickly started to rise up around the room and he nodded with satisfaction. He tentatively tugged at the base of your oversized-hoodie and you raised your arms above your head. He slipped your hoodie off in one swift motion and dropped it to the floor beside you both. You self-consciously crossed your arms over your now bare chest and he smiled down at you. He placed a kiss to your forehead before kneeling down to wriggle your panties off your hips and down your legs. You shuffled shyly, despite the fact he’d seen you naked so very many times, and stepped out of them as he reached your ankles. He tossed them on top of your hoodie, placing a tender kiss to your stomach as he knelt in front of you, before standing back up to his full height “I’ll get you fresh stuff and wash those” he noted, almost to himself as he spun you by your shoulders so you had your back to him. “You get in there” he pointed to the steady stream of hot water creating billows of steam in the small bathroom, “And I’m going to make you some soup, you still have cans of that chicken one you like?” You nodded once and he placed a firm kiss to your shoulder. With his hands on your waist he placed a final kiss to the top of your head before his touch left you completely. You smiled at his constant need to show you physical care, it was like he understood how even simple affection could heal even the worst of the pain your brain could throw at you. You turned to look over your shoulder as he left the room; like he sensed your hesitation he stopped and turned to look at you with a sweet smile…

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll stay with you as long as you need me too”

#adam sackler x reader #adam sackler #tw:mental health #adam sackler x you #adcu #adcu fic #adcu summer fic exchange #adcu fic exchange

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aewhore · 3 years

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Rhea Ripley x fem!reader.Where the reader is Shane’s adopted daughter.So the reader and Rhea are secretly engaged and Vince decides to put the reader in a storyline with Adam Cole.Of course the reader doesn’t like it, and after a few months it’s getting closer to the wedding and Vince decides to start setting up for an arranged marriage,which causes Rhea to confess to their engagement.And reader ends up setting Vince and the McMahons (Not Stephanie) straight with some colorful words.

Hello, my love @mrsbaszler I’m so sorry this took so damn long to write, Thank you so very much for being so patient with me so I hope you love this as much as I do!!!

Word count: 2500

WARNINGS: slight hints towards NSFW activity in beginning. Hinted at homophobia.

Fighting for my family ~ Rhea Ripley x fem! reader.

The morning sun beamed in through the window and straight into your face. You rolled over into the chest of your fiancée, Rhea Ripley. Her arms tighten around you, tangling your arms with hers. “Good morning sunshine” Her morning voice was deeper and raspier than her normal voice. You groan as you bury your face deeper into her chest trying to avoid the reality that you will have to leave the safe haven that is your hotel room bed. Rhea laughs at your attempt to hide away from your responsibilities. She starts to move to leave the bed much to your protests. “Come on sleeping beauty, I have to go shower and I think we both know you’d like to join me” Rhea leaves the bed and walks into the bathroom leaving the door open behind her. “Damn it! Your good” You had no choice but to leave your fort of comfort to join your fiancée in the bathroom before you have to leave.

Coming out of the bathroom after showering and drying your hair, you and Rhea jump slightly when your phone blasts out your ringtone. You rush over to check it and see it's your dad. You look back to see Rhea staring back at you with a raised eyebrow at the identification of the caller. ‘Dad’ you mouth before picking up. “Hey Pops” You try to sound as cheery as possible but you already know what he’s calling about. “Y/N! Where are you? Do you know what time it is?” You check your phone and see it’s 9:30, You’re half an hour late for the morning meeting at the WWE headquarters. “Ugh shit, I must have overslept, I’m on my way now.” You’re lying through your teeth but your dad seems happy enough with your excuse as he ends the calls after a quick “Get your butt her ASAP” after hanging up you realize you’re still naked and rush around to find your clothes to get dressed. “Overslept huh?” Rhea says interrupting your hunt for your pants. “Rhea” you warn, knowing what she’s going to say next. “I know I know, you can’t tell your family because they’d never accept it but Jesus Y/N, we’re engaged. We’re getting married like to each other in less than a year and-” You interrupt Rhea as your frustrations get the better of you. “Rhea! I love you and I love your family but you don’t understand my family wouldn’t accept us. Being Shane McMahon’s daughter means I have to fit a certain mould. If they found out about us… I don't know what they’d do.” You break eye contact with Rhea to locate your shirt after zipping up your jeans. “You told Steph and she was fine with it. All I’m saying is I’m tired of being your little secret.” You freeze at Rhea’s cold words. “Rhea-” You know you don’t have a good defence to her claims but still she interrupts you. “Don’t. Just don’t. I’ll see you later at the P.C.” and with that she turned on her heels and reentered the bathroom, leaving you in stunned defeated silence.

You arrive at headquarters a half an hour later with a guilty pit in your stomach. Rhea’s words ringing in your head as you sit in the meeting room, hearing your family bicker around you about the product and the plans of this and that and the other. You worked on NXT with Uncle Paul and William Regal, that's how you met Rhea in the first place. Onscreen you were a commentator with Vic Joseph and Wade Barrett, you were damn good as well. You had been commentating for the last 5 years and you loved every minute of it. “Y/N!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts to the realization that the entire board meeting is staring at you. You straight up in your seat “pardon?” You try your best to at least sound polite despite the fact you hadn’t heard a damn thing that was said. Your Grandfather stared daggers into you as he began to speak again. “Well, had you been listening you would have heard that we are setting a storyline between yourself and adam cole into motion as soon as possible” Your face scrunches in confusion as you speak up. “Wait what? Why?” your voice comes out more frantic and high pitched than you had hoped. Triple H turned in his chair to address you “Well we want to put Adam in a program against Johnny again but Adam needs someone to balance out against Candice” Like Beetlejuice or the devil himself, there's a knock on the meeting room door, Vince breaks into a grin as he welcomes the interruption in and in walks Adam Cole with his infamous smirk already pasted onto his face.

“Adam! So glad you could join us” Triple H warmly welcomes the UE leader as he sits as close as possible to you in the seat next to you. Why him? Of all people, it just had to be him. When you started your job as a commentator he made it his business to berate your work on Twitter until he came to NXT where he could belittle you in person. You can already tell this will be a horrible time for you. “I’m so glad to be here Paul, Vince thank you so much for this opportunity and Y/N, you actually look really good today, good job” Adam’s voice rang through your head as he made it his mission to get under your skin as soon as possible. Thankfully Vince intervenes in Adam's mission but that tankful feeling is short-lived “Well Adam we’re thankful you suggested this story and we truly feel that Y/N is a perfect fit.” You turn in shock back towards Adam only to come face to face with that sly smirk that you wished you could scrape off his face with your boot. “Wait, how can I have a storyline against Candice if I’ve never wrestled before?” You took a leap of faith, hoping that someone would see how insane this was and put an end to it but alas no luck. “Oh don't worry sweetheart you won’t be getting your pretty little hands dirty in an actual match or anything but if we need you for a brawl or something I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.” Adam punctuates his sentence with a wink, he leaned in closer to whisper “or maybe you could ask your little friend Rhea for help, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help ya out”

The blood rushed away from your head. You felt like you had been sucker-punched, how dare he? Did he know? No surely not. How could he possibly know! Your father, Grandfather and Uncle had carried on the conversation so they had missed Adam’s potential bombshell but they brought the two of you back into the conversation when Shane said: “So what do you think Y/N?” You felt all eyes in the boardroom on you as the pit in your stomach grew and grew and you had hoped it would swallow you whole. “Sure, I’ll give it a shot for a week.” the second you agree the entire room erupts as scripting the rest of NXT begins. Once the meeting is dismissed you rush back to your car to call Rhea but you’re interrupted by your father as you near the exit. “Jeez, someone’s in a hurry, where’s the fire?” Shane laughs out as he stands between you and the exit. “Oh sorry dad, just wanted to go back to the hotel because I forgot my laptop” Your eyes were darting around to avoid your father’s gaze. “Is it important sweetie because I need you to run a few errands for me” your eyes snap to your father. You know you’ll look suspicious if you turn down your father but you need to talk to Rhea ASAP. “Will it take long?” you begrudgingly grumble.

That's what put you in this situation now. You were running around the performance centre helping out with the writing and distribution of the scripts for the NXT tapings tonight. The hours before NXT were ticking away and your anxiety about your new “storyline” was only building and building. Before you knew it, it was showtime and you were rushing out to the commentary desk, nearly shaking with nerves. You almost physically facepalmed when you remembered that you haven't spoken to Rhea and your storyline was starting tonight. Your stomach sank as the show began, you had to put on your game face but inside you were dreading tonight's events. The show ticked by and you calmed as the storyline slipped to the back of your mind as you focused on the action happening in front of you. Before you could even truly settle in to enjoy the episode of NXT that you were commentating on, the main event came and the air was knocked out of your lungs when you realized what you had to do in less than 15 minutes.

The main event of the show was going to build towards the men's war game, Pat Mcafee would approach the commentary desk and cut a promo on Vic and Wade, then he will turn his attention to you and start to insult you before Adam run down to be your knight in sweaty armour to save you from the big bad football man thus starting an on-screen relationship between you and Adam. The segment was going so far so good, Pat was doing his job and Adam came to your defence exactly on time. Just as you're about to sit back down at your desk Adam suddenly grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before he struts back up the ramp to close out the show with Undisputed Era standing tall. If you didn't have to act like a blushing little schoolgirl then you might have thrown up at Cole’s horrible attempt at romance. The show finished and you gathered your things from the commentary desk to return backstage. You politely say good night to your coworkers as you pass by them on your way out to your car to return to your car. The drive back to the hotel was quicker than you expected. The exhaustion of a long filming day was settling into your bones as you entered the hotel and made your way up to your room.

The loud beep of the key card being accepted rang through your ears as you pushed through the door. The door clicked behind you as you dropped your bags and coat on the floor with an unenthusiastic thud. You see Rhea is already on the sofa in the room and once your eyes fall on your fiancee, you quickly move towards her to fall into her arms. “So you and Cole huh?” it feels like your heart stops beating, shit… you never warned Rhea about your new storyline. “Baby, I’m sorry I-” you start to apologize but Rhea cuts you off “Don’t baby me Y/N, What the fuck was that? You can’t tell your family about your fiancee but you can give fuck me eyes to Adam cole on national TV?? I can’t believe you sometimes” you hang your head in shame as the severity of the situation settled in. “Rhea, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you beforehand but I didn't have a moment to myself at all today” You start to explain yourself but Rhea rolls her eyes at your excuse. “Enough Y/N… enough, I’m done with being your dirty little secret. I love you more than anything but I can't stand it as you allow your family to play pretend with you.” Rhea was standing now as you both stood eye to eye, you were only 3 feet apart but it felt like an ocean between you both. Your eyes brimming with tears as Rhea starts to walk past you. “Rhea, please.” She doesn’t stop and once you hear the door open and close behind, you break out in sobs. The future of your engagement lies in your ability to come clean to your family.

The phrase hell hath no fury as a woman scorned never rang truer than you making your way into WWE HQ to meet with your family to reclaim your destiny. You realize you’ll have to get your father alone to tell him about your relationship with Rhea first before hopefully, you both go to your grandfather to scrap the Adam Cole storyline. So as you sit down to the morning meeting, you already feel yourself zoning out as you work out what you’ll say to your father later on. The meeting goes by faster than expected but sadly the meeting deviates towards the future of yours and Cole’s storyline. “You want to book a WHAT?!” your shock overtakes your body as you nearly yell at your grandfather. “Well Y/N. As you should have guessed by now the end goal of this storyline will be a wedding angle between the two of you, I think the fans will love it. it was trending last night.” Vine had his selling hat on but you weren't having it. You were ready to put your foot down and finally stand up to your family before the doors to the meeting room burst open.

Rhea stood at the entrance of the room, a shocked silence fell over the meeting room. “Rhea, how can we help you?” Triple H breaks the silence. “Oh, you could help me out her trips, How bout you give me my fiancee back?” Your heart skipped a beat as your knight in shining armour came to rescue you. “Excuse me?” Vince's confusion echoes through the room as your breath catches in your throat as you stand from your seat. All eyes in the room dart to you as you finally catch the courage to speak. “It’s me, I’m her fiancee, I have been for months and they’ve been the happiest months of my life.” you and Rhea lock eyes and smile at each other. “Excuse me? I can't believe you Y/N, how could you not have told us this?” Your father stared up at you with a shocked expression on his face. “Jesus Christ Dad, how would I tell you? You never listen to me anyway. At every meeting, I’ve ever been at you’ve all ignored my input. Then you forced me into a dumb storyline with that idiot Cole and then you wanted me to marry HIM? I’m gay dad and I love her and I refuse to be ashamed of my love anymore”

After your rant, you move towards Rhea to hold her hand and lead her out of the meeting room. “Let’s get out of her babe” you put on your best cool girl face as you lead your gorgeous fiancee away from HQ. Rhea suddenly stops your stride and you snap back towards her, “You wanna do something crazy?” you furrow your brows at your fiancee’s question. “Go on?” she’s piqued your interest now so you java to know. “Let’s just go to Vegas and get married now” The request takes you by surprise but the answer leaves you as if it's been sitting in your brain for years. “Yes, let’s go right now” You both break into giggles as you run towards your (hopefully long and happy) life together!

#Rhea Ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fancfiction #WWE NXT #nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #WWE #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #im v proud of this #love me?

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tarithenurse · 3 years

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Impervious

Fandom: MCU / TFATWS Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Content: Mentions of hate/harrasment, bad weather, sadness, awkwardness, fluff. A/N: This is my contribution to @princessmisery666 ‘s Daily Mix Challenge! She tossed me a song I’ve never heard before (Skin – by Sabrina Carpenter) and listening to the lyrics I had the image of a highschool prom dance scene where the main character is dancing with the partner while the jealous ass holes are staring daggers....but instead I ended up writing this – oops? Hope you enjoy! And thank you for a lovely challenge!

Impervious

I should delete my Twitter too. The day has only just begun but haters never seem to sleep, filling your online existence with a shit-ton of “negativity”.

It wasn’t as if you had planned it. It just happened!

Thinking back, you can’t help smiling at the memory of that morning a couple of years ago.

Way too early in November, cold and wet and absolutely not a day where you really wanted to be out in the horrendous morning rush and trying to weave in and out between people, with a cooling coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and an umbrella sandwiched dangerously by your shoulder and chin. Nope, the day was shitty and had just plummeted further as you hung up: you’d just had a contract cancelled. At least you wouldn’t be late.

Ready to give up your attempt at adulting (without the prospect of a new gig), you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings for a moment. Just a few seconds. But of course, that’s all it would take to ram straight into someone, crushing the paper cup between the two of you and jostling him to spill his own coffee.

On any other day, you’d probably have handled it more graciously. This day...not so much.

Scrambling for your phone (ugh, it had landed in the biggest puddle available and cracked), you rattled off frantic excuses while trying to hold back the tears. Then your umbrella got snagged by the wind and someone bumped into you, forcing you onto hands and knees and it was all...just...too much.

“Hey baby girl, don’t worry. Don’t cry,” his voice was warm and soothing just like his hands as they gripped yours, brushing off dirt gently with his sleeve, “don’t cry, ’s gonna be fine. See? No harm, no foul.”

There were scars on his hands – especially his knuckles had seen a lot of use, disrupting the gentleness of the dark skin with odd patterns – but they were steady and welcoming then as they cupped your elbows.

Still trying to push out excuses (at this point as much for your own reaction as the accident itself) between hiccups, you were not prepared for him.

His coat was practical and glistening from the rain that gathers on the treated material rather than soak into it...as opposed to your own old jacket that could double as a sponge.

“Just breathe,” he smiled from under the hood, “and stop apologizin’, ‘aight?” Well, you did shut up, too stunned by the crooked smile and the sunshine peeping out at you from his eyes. “That’s better. Lemme just grab this -” he bend for the remains of your phone -”and then...maybe I can offer ya somethin’ warm to drink?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I do that?” Your voice began to rise once more despite your best intentions. “I wasn’t watchi-”

“Nope.” You liked the way the P popped. “Gotta make sure ya fine...that’s kinda my thing, y’know.”

“O-okay...”

He had done just that: brought you to a warm café and hooked you up with their biggest mocha with chocolate powder on top (he even secured you a seat close to the heater) while still chatting about random things to calm you down.

But then his phone had rang and he’d have to leave.

You never got around to ask about his name...but later, when your brain decided to finally cooperate, you realized you didn’t have to: you had just been helped by Sam Wilson, former Falcon and the new Captain America.

That could have been the end of that.

It left you with dreams you neither wanted to share with anyone nor forget. Something inside you had woken up, wanting company but finding nothing but solitude – not that you technically were alone, of course.

You found yourself reading about Wilson’s heroic deeds both before and after the Avengers...and you kept noticing the little details that people seemed to ignore on the gossip pages or in the headlines. You fell for the man without the wings and shield.

A month later (and thankfully a few seasonal jobs too), you walked from the subway towards your little apartment after a long shoot. It was late and you were too tired to notice much about your surroundings until the winter boots of someone appeared in your lowered field of vision, making you jerk back to attention.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” Sam Wilson smiled disarmingly.

You were several blocks from home still. The streetlight flickered, stretching the shadows from a nearby dumpster, and towering above you were windows which all tried to block out the world for the sake of the residents living there.

“What are you doing here?” You bit your tongue in regret immediately. “I-I mean uhm...you didn’t...didn’t scare me...”

If he had been offended, Sam didn’t show it. Instead he just smiled that crooked smile, flashing what you were absolutely certain must be the prettiest tooth gap. “Let me walk ya home for starters?”

“...sure.”

It wasn’t winter anymore inside you when he was there. It was as good as you were ever going to get, knowing your dreams were unrealistic, so of course you decided to enjoy it for a little while. You walked side by side with him, basking in his warm presence until you were chatting as if he was an old friend.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here, Sam.”

The two of you had come to a stop outside your complex. Fidgeting with your keys in the pocket, you wished that you could keep walking with him.

“Well...I was just gonna check in on you but now...this gonna sound crazy,” he pauses to scratch under the scarf, “...I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me finish that coffee with ya some day?”

He was still smiling although a bit more timidly and more towards the winter boots.

“I’d like that.” Inside you, a million sparklers were lit. “Tomorrow?”

“Hey baby girl, what ya smiling like a goof for?”

Sam’s voice calls you back to the real world – a real world where he’s coming over to you on the couch with a big mug of fresh coffee.

“You.” Closing the laptop, you push it away in favour of your boyfriend. “I was remembering how we bumped into each other.”

The memory makes him smile the way you love. “Best day in my life.”

“Same for me.” You kiss him. “I wouldn’t give us up for anything or anyone.” Not even jealous haters.

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hawksward · 4 years

Text

F**k Him, He’s a DJ (Hawks/Reader Music Industry AU)

Summary: A year after your separation from your former girl group, your solo career is just getting started. It only needs some extra oomph. Enter world renowned DJ, Hawks. Here to give you more than what you bargained for.

Pairing: DJ! Hawks (Keigo Takami)/ Singer! Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: sex without a condom, drunk sex, cunnilingus, ragging on DJ’s, dirty talk if you squint

Notes: Hi All! Its been a hot second since I’ve written smut and this is the first time for my favorite bird boi. Music Industry AU’s are a weakness of mine. Please enjoy!!

Special shout out to @shinsotired for beta-ing my trash

“No. Absolutely not. Under no conditions will I work with him.” Water splashed everywhere as you slammed your water bottle onto the table. “I’ll take anyone else you give me.”

Maya, your manager, let out a hefty sigh before adjusting her tight ponytail. She had only taken the position a short year ago after you ditched your former girl group the moment you turned 18. They couldn’t pay you enough to sign another contract describing in detail the ‘cute’ and ‘pure’ image you were expected to maintain. It was time to turn a new, edgier, leaf.

Just not with an insufferable asshole as your first collaboration.

“Hawks has been the only DJ on the top 10 list consistently. Plus you work for the same label. He’s already created the track and we’ve written the lyrics. All you have to do is show up and sing. Maybe do some appearances on his tour.” Maya didn’t take her eyes off her tablet “You’re an established name, but you need to prove yourself again. Now suck it up, he’ll be here any minute.”

The door nearly flew off its hinges with the force Hawks used. You’d never seen him in person before, and he was definitely shorter than you imagined. Not like you could talk. He wore a beige bomber jacket lined in sherpa and a simple pair of jeans. Far simpler than you’d seen him wear on stage.

“Y/N,” Maya put on her biggest, most professional smile, “I’d like to introduce Keigo Takami, or as he more commonly goes by on stage, Hawks. Keigo this is Y/N.”

“Ah good girl gone bad.” His smirk was infuriating. “So this is what I’m working with.”

He circled you, like a bird ready to strike its prey. Taking in every inch of you. Anger continued to rise in the pit of your stomach as he came to a halt. Putting his fingers to his chin in contemplation.

“Something to say?” You questioned, arms folded across your chest.

“Nah.” His fingers raked through his blonde locks “This’ll be fine. I always liked a challenge.” He gave you a wink.

Offended didn’t come close to how you felt about his comment. A challenge, not for you but for him. The bastard probably thinks you don’t have what it takes to succeed in a solo career.

“A challenge?” You rose from your seat to meet him head on, despite being a whole head shorter. “I’ll have you know I’m a fucking professional.”

“She’s got small dog syndrome too!” He nearly folded in half with laughter “Don’t worry, Maya, I’ll play nice with her.”

He knew all the right buttons to push to send you into a rage. Half moons formed on your palms as you exercised every ounce of self control you had. You wanted nothing more than to tell him where exactly he could shove his bullshit.

“Great!” Maya grabbed you by the arm “She will see you in the studio first thing tomorrow morning!” There was no mercy as she pulled you through the door, not giving you the chance for the final word.

The next morning came too fast for your liking. You arrived 15 minutes before your scheduled meeting time, canister of warm tea in hand, wishing it was coffee instead. You were no stranger to the ins and outs of taking care of your voice. It was your livelihood after all.

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

“Morning Chickadee”

You recoiled at the name, noticing Keigo standing in the doorway. Takeout coffee in hand. He sauntered in, throwing his jacket on the back of his chair before setting his coffee down on a nearby table. He pushed himself in his chair over to his soundboard, letting everything boot up.

“Do you need a minute to warm up or are you already ready for the main event?” He gave you a quick wink before diverting his attention back to his equipment. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Like I said before, I’m a professional. I’m ready to start whenever you are”. You took your place in the soundbooth on the opposite end of the room. Slipping your headphones over your ears before checking to make sure your mic was on.

Take. After take. After take. He had a problem with everything.

“You’re too pitchy in the chorus”

“What the fuck is this breathy shit? Stop making it weird.”

“Are you even capable of being sexy?”

The last one bothered you the most.

“Stop being picky because you don’t fucking like me!” You ripped the headphones off before storming out of the booth “There was nothing wrong with that take!”

Keigo rolled his eyes, straightening himself out in his chair before removing his headphones. “You think I’m being picky? My fans will never buy whatever fake sexy shit you’re selling.”

“ Your fans?” The fangs were coming out now “Do you even have fans? All you do is stand behind a laptop and wave your arms around like an idiot.” DJs had no performance value in your mind. Sure, they could make a good track but they were worthless live.

“Yeah, my fans.” He didn’t seem phased at all. Even his body language exuded confidence. “This is my track, Sweetheart. You’re just the feature.”

Your muscles tensed as he said it. Maya had you convinced that this would be the last track on your album, something to really set you apart. You should have known this was a publicity stunt to gain you some of his fans. The room went silent. Hawks shook his head.

“Have you ever even seen a live set?” He rested his elbows on his knees, folding his hands to hold his chin “Not some prom shit. But an actual, full blown set at a club? I’m talking about mixing your own tracks to spinning.”

You scoffed “When would I have time? Some of us are trying to debut.”

“Tonight.”

Taking a step back, you narrowed your eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m taking you to a set tonight. Consider it part of the creative process.”

He rose from his chair, tossing his jacket over his shoulder before walking out the door. A quick wave and a nod was all Hawks gave before he left the studio. You were dumbfounded.

A loud buzz came from your pocket revealing a text from an unknown number.

I’ll pick you up at 10. Wear something sexy. -Kei

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

At 9:55pm you stood outside the apartment. After spending hours trying to determine what was considered ‘club sexy’ you settled on a short black dress and the highest pair of heels you owned. Crisp night air filled your senses as you took in the city. It would have been peaceful if it weren’t for some douchebag pulling up to the curb in a sports car, flashing the lights like a strobe.

The window rolled down to reveal Keigo in a slim fit shirt and jeans. He let out a low whistle, his eyes trailing down before returning to your own. “You clean up nicely”

You rolled your eyes, walking to the passenger side and easing yourself into the car. The dress slipped up your thighs as you adjusted in the seat. Keigo made no attempt to hide his eyes drifting to your legs during the ride to Sky Parlor, Tokyo’s premier nightclub.

He was in his element. Bodies parted around him as he led you to the roped off center area of the club. The place was already full and from what Keigo said, the headliner had yet to perform. You nestled yourself into a corner of the booth, careful not to trip over the short table in front. Someone already dropped by to place a bucket full of ice along with a bottle of tequila onto the table.

Keigo popped the bottle open with ease, filling two shot glasses to the brim “What do you say we toast?” he shouted into your ear, barely coming across as a whisper muddled in all the noise “To a successful partnership?”

You grabbed the glass out of his hand, clinking it to his before shooting the liquid. The burn warmed up your insides as you grabbed the bottle to pour another “Better do two to be safe.”

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the bottle was half empty. There was now enough liquid courage running through your veins to let loose. It didn’t hurt that your girl group reputation wasn’t there to drag you down either. As much as you hated to admit it, the DJ was putting on a good show.

Your hips moved with the beat, hands running down your body before making their way up to the air. The atmosphere was intoxicating, your body moving in time to the bass. You hardly noticed when Keigo snaked his arms around you, allowing his hands to drift to your hips. He pulled you tight to his chest, his body moving in time with your rhythm.

If you were sober you might have put up more of a fight when he began to grind his hips into you, greedy for more contact. Your arms moved up to snake around his neck, bringing his face closer to your own. Keigo’s breath grazed the shell of your ear as you moved in sync, seeming to raise the temperature in the room by at least 10 degrees.

You turned to face him, allowing his knee between your legs as you continued to grind your hips into him. His eyes were lidded, lips barely parted open. Your fingers traced along his jawline, your lips parting to meet his.

Before you had time to process the music began to fade, the DJ picked up his mic to pass it over to the next artist.

“Thanks everybody! Hope you’re having a great time tonight!” The crowd cheered “We’ve got a really special guest here tonight. Rumor has it he’s going to let us preview a new track. Everyone welcome to the stage HAWKS!”

Keigo detangled himself from you at a speed you didn’t think possible, flashing a large smile to the crowd. Bouncers guided his way to the front stage, keeping him safe for all but the roaming hands of strangers. You slid into your seat, pouring yourself another shot of tequila to make up for your disappointment.

When Hawks took the stage he exuded energy. The hum of excited crowd chatter filled the club while he set up. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” His cheeky smile radiated under the harsh lights. The entire crowd erupted into cheers. You even managed to catch a few I love you’s and a Fucking marry me already!

Hawks winked at the crowd, blowing a kiss in the direction of the rogue comments. “I have a special treat, it’s a new track I’ve been working on off my new album.” He let out a laugh before continuing “This one’s dedicated to a special someone who thinks all I do is push play on my laptop”

The blood rushed to your face as the track started. Thankfully he decided not to drop a name or else his fans might have mauled you.

He was good, great even. Almost good enough to make you admit it. His energy on stage was contagious, waving his arms in the air causing the crowd to follow. You could see why he was #2 on the charts. Maybe Maya was onto something.

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

The night was a blur of stolen glances, tequila shots, and deafening music. Keigo, ever the gentleman, booked both of you an Uber back to his place. Something about ‘strike while the inspiration is hot’.

Keigo’s apartment was the penthouse of one of the tallest buildings in the city. The place was beautiful. Tall ceilings, windows open to the glow of the city night. Everything someone would expect from a successful artist.

“Follow me” Keigo motioned “I have a home studio. We should be able to get some work done in there.” He led you to a smaller room, crammed with every piece of recording equipment imaginable. “Start from line 17.”

Shimmying through a sea of tech, you made your way into the corner where a small mic was set up. No glass to separate you from the rest of the studio. Tequila still running through your veins, you began to wonder if now was the best time to record. Your words were probably slurring already.

The words came out like vomit. Completely unsexy. You caught Keigo’s eye and could already tell he was pissed. At least if he came home drunk to work he didn’t have to worry about opening his mouth.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, eyes narrowed. “Is that what you call sexy?” Keigo removed his headphones and leaned back into his chair. “Let’s try something. Seduce me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” arms folded across your chest.

“You heard me. If I don’t buy it, my fans won’t.” Fuck, the man didn’t shut up about his fans. You tentatively walked over to him, unsure how to fulfill his request. No one asked you to seduce them before. The man sitting before you looked unphased as you slid your hair to the side, exposing your neck. You ran your hands down your chest, moving down your thighs. You were too drunk for this shit.

Keigo laughed, “have you never seduced anyone before?” He rose from his chair, inching closer to you, like a predator fixated on his prey. “No bringing a boy band member home and hoping no one finds out?”

Your back was against the wall as he slammed his hand into the foam soundproofing, keeping you locked in place. “Trying to keep quiet so your roommates don’t hear you breaking the rules?” His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered “Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

Blood rushed to your face “Of course not!” you practically shouted “I’ve slept with multiple people.” Which was not any of his business. You weren’t sure why you blurted it out.

A smirk graced Keigo’s features. He was enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. His other hand pushed a strand of hair out of your face, succeeding in making you even more flustered. Your nerve endings were on fire, begging to be touched. Tequila swirling in your mind, encouraging you to give in.

“You’re supposed to be seducing me, not the other way around.” His breath caused goosebumps.

“Please just shut up.” You turned your head to avert your eyes, the blush still painfully apparent on your cheeks. Keigo grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes back to his.

“Only if you make me.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, you went for it. Grabbing a fistfull of his hair, you closed the distance between you. It didn’t take long for him to take the lead, his lips bruising your own. His teeth pulled on your lower lip, causing you to let out a small sigh. Keigo used the chance to grant his tongue entrance, fighting your own for dominance.

Limbs intertwined, your hands clenched the back of his shirt. Keigo’s mouth moved from your lips to the edge of your jaw, trailing lower as he kept your chin in place with his hand. His mouth continued to trail lower as he sucked on the sweet spot by your collar bone. A moan left your mouth, causing Keigo to bite down. Your nails dug into his back, eliciting a low growl from his throat. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair with his opposite hand, pulling to give himself easier access.

Your eyes closed as the room started to spin around you. It was euphoric. It was hard to tell whether it was the booze or the way his mouth moved across your skin, but it felt like heaven. Enough so that when he removed his mouth from your skin, the first feeling was disappointment.

“What?” your voice came out as a harsh whisper “Don’t stop.” You’d beg if you had to, not that you’d tell him that.

“Stop?” Keigo smirked “Baby, I’m just getting started.” In one swift movement he pulled the shirt off his head revealing his sculpted chest and adonis belt. If you were a lesser woman you might have actually drooled at the sight. Being a part of the entertainment industry you were well aware that taking care of your body was important, but it was clear that his was a labor of love.

“LIke what you see?” He smirked, signifying your staring hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was hot, sure, but he was still a cocky bastard. You rolled your eyes before pulling him back into another heated kiss, allowing him to lift your arms up before he pulled the hem of your dress up and over. Leaving you in your bra and the smallest pair of panties you owned.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, so ladies first.” Keigo kept eye contact as he dropped slowly to his knees, taking the strings of your panties down with him. Leaving you on display. Your core twitched in anticipation when you felt his hot breath on the inside of your thigh. Planting light kisses as he moved his way upward. He tossed your leg over his shoulder, unbalancing you for just a moment, for better access.

Your eyes rolled back as he lazily traced shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Back pressing further into the wall to arch yourself into him, you grabbed a fistful of his hair. Desperate for something to hold on to. He alternated between fast and slow, short and long before using his fingers to tease at your entrance.

“Damn Baby, are you already this wet for me?” He pulled away if only for a moment, his index finger pushing past your lips into your core.

“Fuck Kei.” You groaned as your head arched back, “Do you get off on hearing yourself talk?” It was your current opinion that there were other things you would rather his mouth do. You felt him smile into your folds, slipping a second finger into your wet pussy. The new sensation filling you up from the inside, making you feel like you could crack at any moment.

Heat continued to build inside you as Keigo’s pace quickened. Curling his fingers into a spot none of your previous lovers had even tried to find all while keeping pace with his tongue. It didn’t take long for you to boil over, moaning out his name. Keigo removed his fingers as he rose to meet you, lips crashing into yours allowing you to taste yourself. His fingers quickly moved, fumbling against the clasp of your bra, clear that the tequila still had a hold on him as well.

Fabric fell to the floor as he grabbed your breast in his hand, playing with your nipple while he took the other breast in his mouth. Tongue flicking and sucking until you reached a stiff peak. Your hands made their way down to his belt, trying to ignore the sensation enough to concentrate on the buckle. Clear that you were struggling, Keigo removed himself from you to unbutton and throw down his pants at an almost inhuman speed.

Even his dick was magnificent. The brief thought passed your mind of how many other people he brought back to his penthouse after a recording session. Drunk and ready to make bad decisions.

His hands grabbed onto your ass, giving it a squeeze before hoisting you into the air and back down onto his hips. You could already feel his rock hard erection teasing at you. Keigo pushed your back into the wall, causing a small gasp of air to leave your lips. He positioned himself so he was at your entrance. His head grazing your lips before thrusting himself inside, your sufficiently soaked pussy allowing him to bury himself in one motion.

Keigo let out a moan, his forehead resting on yours briefly as he let himself acclimate to just how tight you were. It was difficult to describe just how full and amazing he felt inside you. Your breathing picked up as he slowly began to thrust in and out.

The small ‘oh’s’ and ‘ ah’s’ from your mouth filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin. Keigo’s mouth returned to your collarbone as he picked up his pace, nearly removing himself from your cunt before pushing himself back in, almost punching you in the cervix. Every vein felt like it was made to please you, sending your nerves into a frenzy.

“Holy fuck you feel good.” His breathing matched your own, rough and uneven. Enough to send shivers down your spine. Your head arched back, enjoying the sensation of his cock while he adjusted himself to put your nipple in his mouth. Nails traced thin white lines down his back, lightly breaking the tattooed skin.

The building sensation was quickly becoming overwhelming. Your mind unable to focus on your surroundings, only your impending release. “Oh Fuck, Kei. I’m gonna cum.” You grabbed a fistful of his hair, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder. Your words causing him to go feral, his pace increasing exponentially as he gripped harder into your thighs. His fingertips sure to leave bruises. He brought his mouth back up to yours, his tongue thrashing with your own in a sloppy kiss.

The bundle of nerves inside you, that kept winding tighter and tighter exploded. You gripped harder as the wave of sensation washed over you, continuing to hold on as Keigo reached his own release, emptying himself inside of you. You rested your forehead against his, enjoying the moment of bliss before he pulled out.

“So..” Keigo smiled “Think you’re ready to record a number one single?”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hawks #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #music industry au #bnha #mha #smut #hawks smut #boku no hero fanfic #Dj! Hawks

355 notes · View notes

solastia · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary | 2

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Your bed & breakfast has a new regular...Jeon Jungkook of BTS

You shuffle into your office, still a little sleepy despite having a shower and having a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. You weren’t sure what the cause of it was, but you’d been entirely too restless to sleep well. Too much excitement, perhaps?

You shrug to yourself and sit into your office chair with a loud yawn, ruffling your still damp hair as you power on your laptop. You still hadn’t received any reservations for this week and you were hoping someone would come by for the weekend at least. You had some honeymooners reserved for next week, but that didn’t help you now. An entire week without guests would put a noticeable deficient in the books.

That’s why when you pulled up your check-in program and saw that you’d been booked for the entire week by a single client, you had to verify that you weren’t still asleep. You pinched yourself and cringed at the pain, staring again at the program.

Sure enough, it was all still there. One client, for seven days straight. They’d booked the biggest room upstairs, the only one up there besides your own. What was incredibly strange is that they changed the offered rate. Normally, you were one of the cheapest places in the area and charged $120 a night. Not bad for one of the more expensive areas in Northern California. This person was offering you a deal of $300 per night, along with fees for meals and a hefty “to be discussed” tip if you were to close reservations for anyone else. They were trying to rent the whole place? So probably some celeb going for anonymity by hiding in an unknown B&B.

You shrugged. It wasn’t that crazy, although most local celebs tended to hang out in Carmel rather than around here. And it certainly wouldn’t be the first one you’d hosted, simply the first one that had been so generous. The other two were well-known names and you’d been expecting a hefty tip from them but they’d been surprisingly tight-fisted. One had even tried to argue your nightly fee down in exchange for using the name of your place on his social media. You’d been happy to decline.

While a little more business would be nice, you didn’t want the place overrun. You wanted it small and cozy. Safe, for yourself as well as your guests. The whole purpose of the place was to have somewhere calm and comfortable to escape to.

This person must be especially desperate if they were booking the entire place to be alone. There wasn’t a mention of them bringing any other guests with them. You exhaled noisily and clicked accept, sending them a little welcome email with all the instructions they’d need. You wondered with a self-amused grin if you should start putting a little footnote mentioning that celebrity scandals or drug-filled parties were not allowed on the premises.

You lean back in your chair when you’re done, taking sips of your now luke-warm coffee as you think over everything that you have to do to get ready. According to the form they filled out, they’d be arriving that evening. You kept the house in shape daily so you didn’t have much to do in the way of chores, but you should make a menu for the week, get the fireplace in the room prepped, and hit up a few of your friends for the local event tickets.

Thor comes up and bumps your thigh, reminding you that you still had to take him out.

“I got you, buddy,” you chuckle, standing up with a groan and going to fetch his leash. “We have a long day ahead of us, and then maybe you’ll have a new friend for a bit, huh? You gotta be on your best behavior.”

Thor barks softly and you pretend he’s answering you instead of demanding you hurry the hell up with your shoes. You decide at the last minute to throw on a hoodie too since the temperature was lowering fast. You hiss as you step outside and hope that Thor manages to get his business done fast. But even the chill wasn’t enough to bring down your mood. Today was going to be a great day. You could just feel it in your bones.

****

You had just finished putting another batch of cookies in the oven when you heard someone arrive and ring the little bell you kept on the front desk.

“Good evening! I’ll be right there, but go ahead and shut the door if you want!” You holler from the kitchen as you wash your hands.

You’d left the door open just in case they came around while you were putting around the place, but now that they were here you could finally turn on the heater.

You dry your hands and pat down your shirt and pants as you walk, hoping you didn’t look too casual. Jeans and a flowy blue button-up blouse with matching flats seemed casual yet comfortable. And you were wearing your pearls just in case they were the stuffy sort that would look down on you for not looking at least a little professional.

“Hi, welcome to Sanctuary! I’m -”

“Hey, Noona,” a cheeky-toned voice answered as you turned the corner and entered the foyer.

Your eyebrows fly up as you see the tall figure standing there. “Jungkook?”

He looks...fucking glorious. Black pants that look like they are painted on tucked into those stomper boots he seems to love. Plain black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a blue flannel shirt over that. Sitting next to him is a large black backpack that is easily half as big as him.

He grins cockily and leans against the desk. “They gave me a couple of weeks off so I’m here on vacation. Please take care of me,” he bows with mock formality.

“You’re the one that booked the whole place, right?” you ask, bringing up your computer application to check him in. He leans in way too close and looks over your shoulder as you work.

“Yup! One of the managers did the form though. Did he do everything I asked? Up the rate and made sure you feed me?”

You snort, “Yes, Jungkook. They are paying me an astronomical amount and I have plenty of food. Although, I only went shopping for one normal person. You’ll probably go through it all it two days, so make me a list.”

He chuckled lowly and you shivered, feeling his breath on your ear.

“Well, I’m not eating every meal here. I’m going to go out sometimes, too. Maybe noona can show me some nice places?”

You struggle to hold back a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A shrill beeping started in the kitchen and Jungkook jumped back, looking around curiously.

“Cookies,” you answered the silent question. You finish typing a couple of things in the program than jump up and rush towards the kitchen, amused to notice Jungkook hot on your heels.

You shove your hand in a glove and pull out the pan, your own stomach rumbling a little from the delicious smell of chocolate chip cookies. It probably also didn’t help that in your rush to prepare for your guest you might have forgotten your own meals.

You scoop them onto the wire rack, so focused in the work that you forgot about the other person beside you until his thieving hands begin reaching towards one of the scalding hot cookies. You smack it with the spatula.

“Let it cool,” you order unapologetically, forgetting for a moment he was an actual guest. His sheepish grin assured you that there were no hard feelings. And that he would probably do it again.

“Are you hungry for actual food?”

He nods quickly, helping himself to one of the bar stools at your prep counter.

“Yeah. I ate this morning, but then I had to finish this interview before they’d let me go free. And that means an hour in hair and makeup for five minutes of questions,” he rolls his eyes and props his cheek onto his hand as he watches you.

“Ugh,” you grunt sympathetically. You look around for the menu you’d made for the week and hand it to him. “Look this over, will you? Let me know if there’s anything you don’t like.”

He silently reads your list as you prepare him a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. And maybe you sneak a couple for yourself as well.

Finally, he nods and tosses it over. “It’s good. Maybe add some Korean food if you know how to make any. I noticed there weren’t any restaurants.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t really known for its diverse cuisine. But if you want fifty seafood places, we have you covered.”

He snorts, “Kinda like home.”

You laugh, remembering how many little food carts littered Busan’s beaches.

You place his snack in front of him and he dives in happily, his eyes wide with happiness. You slide into the seat next to him and study him.

“So, Jeon Jungkook. What are your plans for the week? Are you going to stick around the house most of the time or should I maybe find some places for you to visit? I have lots of friends that I can get tickets from.”

He takes a huge gulp of milk and sighs contentedly before he answers. He shrugs, “Mostly around here. This is my time to actually relax. Definitely going to the beach and taking some photos. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Hmm,” you hum, propping your chin in your hand. “The main attractions out here are all marine-based, so it’s up to you if you want to see any of it or if it’s all just old news to a Busan boy. But we do have the marine sanctuary nearby, there’s whale watching, and I think the butterfly exhibit is still going on. It really depends on how far you’re willing to travel. Monterey has even more things to do.”

He looks almost shy when he glances up at you. “Is it okay if we just stay here tonight?”

Your filthy disgusting mind conjures up all sorts of things hearing a sentence like that coming from Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, but you gulp and hope your voice sounds normal.

“Yup. Of course. It’s your vacation. Most guests don’t even interact this much with me. They just check-in and have meals sent to their room.”

“It’s okay. I like having noona around,” he grins, his eyes crinkling mischievously. Brat.

He looks around suddenly. “Hey, where’s Thor?”

“I usually keep him in my room until I figure out how pet-friendly the guest actually is.”

“You can let him run around, I’m fine,” he grins with excitement and follows behind when you get up and head towards the stairs.

Once you reach the top you can already hear Thor sniffing on the other side. You fling open your bedroom door and let him practically fly towards Jungkook. The man tries to sneak a peek inside before you slam the door shut, not ready to let the international celebrity see your mess.

Instead, you nod towards the room across the hall and gesture with your arm.

“This one is yours.”

He grins softly and walks around peeking at everything, patting the covers of the bed until Thor jumps up. He sits next to him and nods.

“It’s so nice. You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you grin lopsidedly as you take a quick look around. “I think I did okay too. I’m no interior designer, but I was hoping for homey.”

“It’s relaxing,” he agrees with a nod. “I couldn’t even do this with my own place. I just threw some blankets on the floor and set up my PC. I don’t even think I have proper dishes. I had to eat cereal out of the plastic bag inside,” he giggles.

You shake your head, unsurprised really.

“This TV is pretty big too,” he grunts as he climbs towards the headboard of the bed, then crosses his ankles with a sigh, setting against the plush pillow behind him and playing with the remote. “Do you get all the channels?”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing there awkwardly now as he gets comfortable. You should probably go make dinner now or something, right?

“Oh nice,” he suddenly exclaims exactly, tossing the remote away. “Deadpool is on. Come watch, noona,” he says, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

His eyes are huge and there’s not a single hint on his face that this is a joke. He looks innocent and earnest. Just where was this “shy” Jungkook you’d always heard about?

You shuffle towards the bed and slowly lower yourself onto it, trying your best to avoid actual contact with him. He didn’t seem to approve because he actually scooted closer until his rock hard thigh was pressed right up against yours.

“Get comfortable, noona. I don’t have rabies,” he chuckled, tugging you down a little more until you were sharing a pillow.

Fuck. How was it possible for a man to smell so good, you moaned in your head. Thor - the traitorous bastard - was cuddled in a circle right in between Jungkook’s legs. He looked well on his way to taking a nap.

You focus on the tv, not really watching the movie, and trying instead not to hyperventilate. He was so close and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. You felt like a nervous teenager.

It was probably midway through the movie when you first heard it. A tiny little wheeze. Then, the man next to you felt like he was slipping. You turn and grin when you notice that Jungkook is pretty much out for the count. His head has slipped right onto your shoulder and his mouth is wide open as he sleeps, his nose making a cute little rattle instead of outright snores.

You huff and look around, yawning as the feeling of laying in bed finally begins to catch up with you as well. You hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so it was understandable. But Jungkook probably didn’t get much sleep on a regular basis, so you’d hate to disturb him now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit. Just until it was time to make dinner.

You give in to the lazy feel of the room and shut your eyes, snuggling into the pillow a little more. You barely noticed when a strong arm flipped you over gently and pulled you closer.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook #noona #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #mxr #sanctuary #solastia

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notsowrites · 3 years

Text

i thought of you

I was writing something else, then this popped into my head and demanded to be written instead. Basically, it’s Missing Alex Manes Hours for Michael Guerin in this fic (but with a happy ending, of course).

(AO3 Link)

Enjoy! <3

----------

Michael picks up his cell phone and stares at the screen.

No new messages.

It's not that he doesn't trust Alex, but there's still a sense of worry that takes over every time Alex leaves on a work trip. Michael finds himself paralyzed by the memory of the time he'd supposed to have gone on a recruitment trip for the Air Force, and had ended up being taken hostage by Flint Manes and Helena Ortecho. No one had known for days because Alex was scheduled to be out of communication.

At least now during the day he'd been able to keep busy at the junkyard, going in early, and staying much later than his normal shift demanded. Sanders wasn't thrilled by the temporary arrangement, but the workshop had never been so straightened and cleaned up before, he'd stopped grumbling after the third day.

No, the problem comes later when Michael is supposed to leave for the day. The first night without Alex, he'd gone back to the house - their house, their home - and tried to not think about how empty it felt knowing Alex wasn't just late coming home from work at the base. He'd wrapped himself up in one of Alex's Air Force hoodies and fallen asleep on Alex's side of the bed. It didn't get easier the second night, or the third. And by the fifth night of Alex's scheduled trip, Michael hadn't even bothered to drive home, instead crashing in the Airstream that he hadn't properly occupied in months.

This trip though, is harder on Michael than any of the ones that have happened in between. Because this time, Alex is off the grid, and Michael has no way of knowing that he's okay, that he's safe, or even that he'll be coming back home on time. It doesn't stop him from checking his phone, hoping maybe to see Alex break a rule, and choose to contact him in a fit of rebellion.

"You're scaring the customers," Sanders gruffs at him on the night of the sixth day Alex's been gone. "Did you and the Manes boy fight or something?"

Michael sighs. "He's traveling for work."

"So you've decided to haunt my junkyard in the meantime?"

Michael checks his phone again - nothing.

"Go home, idiot."

He listens, afraid of having to deal with Sanders otherwise, and returns home to the empty house. Inside the bedroom door, he toes off his boots, and kicks them off watching them land in the middle of the floor. Next is his grease stained work shirt, dropping it onto the floor, thinking he'll pick it up later along with the jeans he steps out of in the doorway to the bathroom. Standing in front of the shower, he turns the water on, lets it get hot as he removes his boxers, throwing them somewhere in the vicinity of the hamper in the corner, before stepping under the spray.

He and Alex have gone much longer without speaking, they made it through ten years with only seeing one another maybe one or twice a year, and now-

Now Michael couldn't even handle a week.

He closes his eyes and focused on the feeling of the water hitting his body, trying to stop his mind from it's usual noise and chaos. Sometimes it helps when he's stressed, but the hot water in the Airstream only ever lasted so long, and Michael feels wound tight now, he misses Alex so much. It had taken them so long to figure it out, figure them out. Months of trying to be friends, both of them watching the other date someone else, thinking maybe that person could make them happier then they could make each other.

Michael braces one hand against the wall, wrapping the other around himself. He keeps his eyes closed, water still cascading down around him, and thinks of Alex's hands on him. Despite the years of being in the Air Force, despite that childhood with Jesse Manes trying to force him into that Manes Man mold, Alex still had the softest, most beautiful hands. He thinks about how it feels when Alex does this, when it's Alex's hand wrapped around him, or it's Alex's mouth he's pushing into instead of his own fist.

But his mind won't settle, his hands are too rough and calloused from years of working at the junkyard, nothing feels right enough to feel good, and he shuts the water off instead. Hair dripping, he steps out of the shower, and grabs the nearest towel off the bar to get rid of the excess water, as he steps out into the bedroom.

It's getting late, just around eight o'clock, and Michael feels like he's already exhausted. According to the basic itinerary Alex had given him before leaving, he would be back on the seventh day, though it wasn't clear what time. With the knowledge that maybe, maybe when he wakes up he'll only have to deal with a handful more hours until Alex returns, Michael slips into a clean pair of boxers he grabs from the dresser, and crawls under the covers, curling up on Alex's side of the bed again, and missing him even more.

He wakes in the middle of the night, and notices light coming in under the bedroom door - had he forgotten to turn off one of the lights in his movements earlier? Michael groans and momentarily considers leaving it until morning, except that’s when he hears the opening of the fridge in the kitchen and a cupboard door closing. His heart feels like it skips around in his chest - is Alex home?

It's that question he asks himself that makes him throw back the covers and throw open the bedroom door into the main room.

Alex is sitting at the table, laptop open in front of him, a half-eaten sandwich and a cup of tea next to it. His hair is a mess, and he's wearing fatigues, which means he'd probably had to report to base at some time today, but he's here.

He's home.

For the first time in a week, Michael feels like he can breathe properly, even before he’s managed to get his hands on Alex. Just physically seeing him sitting there at the table is enough for the moment.

“Alex,” he chokes out, his voice not higher than a whisper, still in shock that Alex is here in front of him. He watches as Alex finishes whatever he was doing on his laptop, closing the lid, and turning to face him, and he really is the best thing Michael has seen in a week.

“Did you miss me?”

He’s teasing, Michael knows he is, because that’s a dumb question to ask. Alex has to know how much Michael has missed him, doesn’t he?

“Did I-” Michael sputters, before watching as a smile crosses Alex face. “That’s not funny.”

“I know,” Alex replies, pushing up off the chair, removing his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair, before crossing over to him.

Michael doesn’t move, stays still in the open doorway to the bedroom, and lets Alex come to him, doesn’t protest when Alex puts a hand on his chest and gently pushes him back against the door frame, Alex pressed up against him.

“Sanders was ready to fire me for being at the junkyard too much.”

Before he can push forward to kiss Alex, because it’s one of the only things he wants to do right now - Alex is taking a step back, eyes wide and brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Michael feels his shoulders sag. “Nothing, just missed you. The house felt too empty without you here.”

“Michael-”

And he knows. Without Alex saying a word, he knows that Alex has figured out he’s been miserable this entire week. It hadn’t been his plan, to let Alex know the extent of how pathetic he’d been, missing him terribly, especially without being able to even text this past week. But the cat’s out of the bag now, and there’s no turning back.

“It’s not a big deal-”

“Don’t say that,” Alex interrupts, stepping forward again, and back into Michael’s space. Michael reaches out, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist, pulling their bodies flush, reveling in feeling all of Alex against him. It’s something he’s working on, accepting when he feels sad or angry, letting Alex in instead of blocking him out and claiming he’s fine. It’s a process to learn, to allow himself to lean on someone else, and trust they’ll be there to catch him. “But I promise, this isn’t going to be a normal thing. Next time, there won’t be a communication blackout.”

Finally, finally, Alex leans in, gently brushing the tip of his nose across Michael’s cheek before pressing in, their lips connecting, and Michael can’t help himself, he pushes forward into Alex, tightening his arms around Alex’s waist to keep him close.

“I missed you too, you know,” Alex says against his lips, and even though they’re pushed flush together, Michael still tries to tighten his hold a bit.

Skipping out on work tomorrow sounds like a good idea. He’s pretty sure Sanders won’t mind if he doesn’t show up.

#roswell new mexico #malex #malex fic #notso writes fanfic #still listening to taylor swift #still writing like crazy #no more keepin score ficlets

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kayteewritessteve · 4 years

Text

DT - Just Drunk 3/3

Description: It’s finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.

Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

It’s finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” “Cause I’m getting that feeling right now.” CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Here’s to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol ❤️❤️❤️

That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you weren’t exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you weren’t.

So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then you’ll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tonight’s the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wine—read, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we aren’t about that life here— It’s finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. And—oh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You can’t do this. You just can’t!

You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You can’t do this. You really can’t. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.

Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.

But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you don’t take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shit—wait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!

And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, and—you swear that—you walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!

Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You aren’t special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?—No, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..

Alright, it’s decided. You aren’t going on this date. You don’t deserve to go on this date. You’ll just pick up your phone and call—no! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesn’t matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. And—hey! Don’t judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. It’s a part of who we are now.

You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.

It obviously doesn’t, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so that’s a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! You’re willing to bet he’ll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he won’t even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.

You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit you’ve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. “H-hello?”

“Breathe. What are you wearing?”

Lindsey, it’s Lindsey. You glance down, “dark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.” You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. “Oh shit, do you think I’m too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, aren’t I? I should have worn a dress! He’s from the damn 30’s! Oh fu—“

“Woman!” Lindsey cuts you off, “just breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?”

You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey can’t see the action you quickly mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be okay, I look fine, I’m fine. I’m breathing now. Promise.”

“Very convincing,” Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.

You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! He’s here!

“Fuck! Linds!” You hiss. “He’s here! What do I do?!”

“Jesus,” she sighs, exasperated, “you get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.” Yet the words don’t sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.

“You do,” she reaffirms. “Now repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.”

“Yes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!” You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.

“Wait!!” Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.

“Yes?” You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.

“Call me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!” She warns. “I want all the dirty details, so don’t forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!” She singsongs the last part.

“Will do! Bye!” You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. You’ll make it up to her later.

You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he can’t catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldn’t go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is ‘bad form’, as Sam had put it, and ‘makes you look too eager,’ as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you don’t want to show up too early is because she probably won’t be ready, and it’s never good to rush a woman’s pre-date prepping process. So after Nat’s words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.

But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.

With a sincere and rushed ‘Thank you’, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that it’s now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.

His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he can’t make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though he’s sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tony’s file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so it’s not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it does—

The door abruptly opening cuts off Steve’s train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and that’s saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.

How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he can’t even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, he’s doomed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. “Uh, hi,” you wave awkwardly—And woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? You’d facepalm right now, if it weren’t for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.

Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, “Hi.”

Okay, so at least you aren’t the only awkward one. That’s good, you guess. “Shall we?” You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.

He nods quickly, “yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.

A silence looms over you both, you aren’t exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. “Is that,” you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, “is that a Mclaren P1?” You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

He gives you a bashful look, “it is. I’m sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you weren’t, the helmet would just mess up your hair,” he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, “So Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.”

You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. “Not ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, that’s the first thing I’d buy,” you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.

There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isn’t a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. You’d be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, you’d have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after you’re dead and gone. That’s how expensive they are.

A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!

“Ah, shall we?” You ask, yet again, as clearly that’s the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasn’t a first date, and that wasn’t Tony Stark's car, you’d have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.

Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,—yes, ‘lifts up’. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!— like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you don’t want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.

Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, “you like cars, I take it?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. “My dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.”

Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.”

You smile at him, happy that you’ve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. “I like bikes as well, though I’m nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.”

He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, “Well, I’ll have to take you out on my bike one day,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “If um, if you’d be interested in that?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’d really like that.”

You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, “okay. I can make that happen.”

Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadn’t clued into this until after you’d answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didn’t want to see him again. Or that you weren’t enjoying yourself so far. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadn’t scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasn’t him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So he’d once again decided to go with Nat’s advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.

But when the words had left his mouth, he’d almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume she’d even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because she’d replied instantly, and excitedly, that she’d really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly don’t know what to make of the smile, it’s not exactly one you’d have expected, and you can’t place why it makes you feel so awkward.

It’s odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. It’s sweet and soft, and calming. “Good evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?”

“We have a reservation, under Rogers,” Steve answers and you aren’t sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isn’t normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you aren’t going crazy—at least not this time, you aren’t.

She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. “Here you are,” she says as she places the menus down on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment you’ve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.

Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but it’s pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, “that was weird, wasn’t it?”

He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. “Yeah, that was odd.”

“Does that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?”

He shakes his head, “sometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.”

You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, “okay, so I wasn’t the only one that thought that was weird.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

“No,” Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. “You weren’t.”

He has never had someone react to his presence like that, he’s had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, he’s even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isn’t sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasn’t. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.

A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. “Good evening, my name is,” there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, “Will,” is added. “And I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?”

Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that he’s heard it many, many times—You have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostess’ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.

Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasn’t looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to ‘Will’ and he narrows them. The aforementioned ‘waiter’ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. ‘What are you doing here?’ He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.

‘Taking your drink orders,’ Sam mouths back with a ‘duh’ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.

“I’ll just take an iced tea,” Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, “and I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap.”

“Excellent choices,” Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friend—hold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Nat—what his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal you’d like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if he’s decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is looking—read, glaring—at a table with a few people sitting at it. “Do you know them?” You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.

“Hmm?” He questions, “who?”

You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. “The people at that table over there,” you tip your head in it’s direction.

He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. “Ah, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I can’t really remember exactly where.” He shrugs, “probably from work.”

You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. “So, any ideas on what you’d like to eat?”

“I was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking about getting as well,” you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly that’s another thing you both have in common. Score!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called ‘friends’ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.

It’s taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tony’s invasion of privacy folder.

And if barely paying any attention to his date, isn’t bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He can’t imagine how she’d react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.

He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesn’t really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

It’s not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and you’d have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.

And maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasn’t really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.

So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.

You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadn’t yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around him—But we aren’t focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.

The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you don’t miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, that’s fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?—Shit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.

And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safe—you shake your head gently. Don’t be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after all—

“Oreos?” He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one you’d picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.

And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. “I like Oreos,” you shrug, trying to act casual. “So tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?”

He chuckles, “I guess Oreos are pretty good, I’m also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

“Really?” You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again. “When I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reese’s were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30’s. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,” he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. “It still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.”

“I can’t even imagine,” you say honestly, “what else has stayed the same?” And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as it’s raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is she—is she taking freaking pictures of you!?

Your eyes focus in on the phone in question and—wait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the ‘old ladies’, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the ‘old mans’ head, and come to an unwavering realization.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You flick your eyes back to Steve’s. “Oh, yeah. Yep. I’m just dandy,” your eyes again lock on the stupid ‘old woman’. “I just have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isn’t watching and then forcefully yank the ‘old’ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.

Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the woman’s grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you weren’t so angry right now, you’d have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.

“I really shouldn’t be in here,” Tyler points out unhelpfully.

“Oh please,” you scoff, “I’m more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.”

He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.

“Look, we can explain,” she puts her hands up in submission.

“I sure fucking hope so,” you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. “Well, let’s hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?”

“It was his idea,” Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, “it was her idea.”

They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. “Liar!” They say in unison. Another gasp from both, “I am not!” and again, in unison.

You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didn’t, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.

“Okay, whoever’s idea it was aside,” you wave a dismissive hand around. “You both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.” You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, “now, the real question is what the hell guys?” You shift your eyes between the two, “you both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, “but it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.”

Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, “it was ‘our’ idea, traitor!” She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.

You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, “okay, enough!” They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. “I don’t have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, I’m sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and I’ve now been standing in the women’s bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steve’s going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Do you think he’d even understand that reference?” Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, “do you think anyones shown him those movies yet?”

Lindsey gives him an odd look, “of course he’s seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.”

Tyler nods slowly, “unless his friends all suck, I guess.”

“Very valid point, Ty—“ Linds starts but you cut in.

“Not important at the moment, guys,” you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. “Now, I’d ask you both to leave, but I know you won’t listen to me. So instead, I’ll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?”

“Got it,” they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, “but Harry Potter is always important.”

You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isn’t even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldn’t change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. It’s a 50/50 thing, for sure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. ‘What the hell are you guys doing here?’

His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see it’s from Tony. ‘We are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.’

Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isn’t in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. “Oh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then what’s with the get ups,” he flicks the obviously fake wig on Bucky’s head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, “and why the hell is Sam our waiter?”

“Look, Steve,” Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. “I had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,” she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former to—well, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, “I only chose to join them to make sure they didn’t fuck your date up too badly.” Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, “and I’m just here for the food.”

“Traitors,” Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.

Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, “you can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steve’s bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, that’s a bullet I won’t take for you.”

Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “We just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isn’t that right, Manchurian Candidate,” he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he crosses his arms. “Your choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you. I’m supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,” he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. “And tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isn’t the next person to approach my damn table, I’ll be even more pissed off,” then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasn’t come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didn’t see him scolding the table of assholes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. “Sorry that took so long,” you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! “Ah, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.” Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!

“Oh?” Steve asks hesitantly, “is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, yeah,” you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. “She just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her I’d call her back later.”

He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. “Does it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?”

You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, “no, it’s not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?”

He nods, “yeah, something like that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” you comment, trying to be positive. “And it just means we get more time to talk.”

He smiles at you, “well, in that case, let’s hope the food never comes.”

And swooooon. You couldn’t not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that it’s probably the biggest, goofiest thing he’s ever seen, but you can’t help it. “Fingers crossed,” you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, “Cause I’m getting that feeling right about now.”

Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. “All the time, actually.”

You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, that’s neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that it’s now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his ‘friends’ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.

And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding they’ll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

“Sorry for the delay,” a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. “Ah, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, I’ll be taking over for him.” He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. “These drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldn’t be too much longer for your food to be ready.”

Y/N thanks the new—actual—waiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.

The new waiter—Kyle—scurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. “Did you have a better time at work, this week?” He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadn’t been very fun for her. He’d been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.

And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve can’t get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, because—does this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldn’t they give him the same one he’d ordered before?

He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. It’s no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steve’s learned since waking up from the ice in this new—and expensive—era, it’s that you should never ever pass up free things. So he’ll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalism—Okay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.

You and Steve don’t waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of fo—five now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isn’t worrying you. A lot.

After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didn’t mean to be that forceful with it.

Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot and—wait, is he drunk?

“This food was amazing!” He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Something isn’t right. He don’t feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he can’t get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian mead—his eyes snap over to the table of his ‘friends’ and it instantly hits him—The beer didn’t taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.

Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his ‘friends’ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckers—

“Who’s going to pay?”

Steve’s eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/N’s. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. “My horrible friends,” he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/N’s face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. “You’re adorable when you frown,” he chuckles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You were still trying to figure out what he meant by ‘his horrible friends with pay for this’, but then he has to go and say you’re adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. Geesh—Focus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over and—holy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.

And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steve’s did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. “Steve?” You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. He’d been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding slightly out of it.

“Question?—err, actually maybe two questions,” you hastily amend and he chuckles.

“Okay,” he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, “W-what are they?”

“Is that your team over there?” You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.

He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles “yeah, it is.” But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this time—read, damn near yelling again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be here—“

You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out what’s so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. “Y/N?” He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.

And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, “see the old couple behind you, a table away?”

Steve’s lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, “yeah,” he says slowly.

“Those two ‘old people’,” you make quote signs with your fingers, “are my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,” and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steve’s frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.

“You’re joking?” He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, “not even a little bit.”

He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. “That is too funny.”

You nod, agreeing with him, “that it is. Looks like both our friends are,” you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, “nosey assholes.” Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steve’s. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, “and here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didn’t fake being our waiter,” you giggle.

Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, “were you really surprised they’d go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.”

“Oh shit,” you chuckle a little more, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Yeah,” Steve shakes his head, “they are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. It’s rather frustrating,” he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.

“Wait,” Steve abruptly says, “you said you had two questions?”

You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though you’re going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, “so I’m guessing they spiked your drink, which means you can’t drive?”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? I’ll pay for it.”

“No,” a sly grin works its way onto your lips. “I have a better idea.” You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. “Come with me,” you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you won’t be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell she’ll be able to stop him, and he’ll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, can’t be passed up, even in Steve’s mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.

He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isn’t gonna lie, he’s excited to see what her master plan is.

“Avengers,” she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.

His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, “Y/N,” he nods then looks at Steve. “Steve.” Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. “I see you’ve figured us out,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That I have,” she giggles, “wasn’t too hard, once you spiked Steve’s drink.”

“That was Sam’s doing,” Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.

“It might have been my doing, but it was Tony’s idea,” Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You aren’t interested in their bickering about who did what, and who’s behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad,” you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“We aren’t,” he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but it’s the thought that counts.

You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. “But,” you abruptly say, “there are conditions to us not being upset.”

And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, “and those are?”

“Our bill still needs to be paid,” you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, “okay, and?”

Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. “Since Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morning—“. Tony cuts in, “what? No, no, that doesn’t seem—“. “Tony,” Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,” you say, “therefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, I’ve driven supercars before, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Tony doesn’t seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. “I think it’s only fair,” Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. “I agree with Nat,” Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, “fine, you can take the car for the night.”

And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, “but,” he points a finger at you then at Steve, “if there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.”

Steve gives you a look, one that screams ‘now just wait one second, let’s talk about this a little first’ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, “Deal.” And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, “I like that one,” to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.

As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!—A deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. “Sorry,” you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, “I’m a little excited.”

“I can see that,” he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all it’s shiny black glory, and you are sure you’re dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or you’re drooling.

The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, “it’s my turn to be the gentleman.”

Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.

And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.

You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the ‘gentleman’ this time. Steve deserves as much.

He chuckles again as he clues into what you’re doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.

Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.

“I had—“. “Thank you—“. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Even with our friends crashing the date?” He asks, one brow raised.

You giggle, “yes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.”

“That it did,” Steve nods. “And I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.”

You wave it off, “they aren’t so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.”

He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You grin brightly, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “No, I wouldn’t be interested in doing this again.” Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks you’ve ever seen in your life. “Just wait,” you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, “let me finish. But yes, I’d love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.”

His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, “yes, no friends on the next one for sure.”

“Okay, well I should get home,” you say reluctantly, “but I’ll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” he nods. “And yes, just the two of us.”

“Perfect,” you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.

Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, you’d melt into the sidewalk. You’d become a human puddle.

But luckily for you, he doesn’t release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. “Goodnight, Steve,” you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.

“Goodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.”

You smile, “see ya then.” You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you don’t care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.

You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.

The whole drive home you can’t wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if you’re being honest.

This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldn’t change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.

And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, and—if you have any say in the matter—many, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that you’re going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because you’ll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, that’s what.

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

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#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #Drunk Twitter #part 3 #Just Drunk #au fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers #justkendingwritingchallenge

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harrysgoldrush · 4 years

Text

and they were roommates {h.s.} i

masterlist

one of the perks of being roommates with harry is that he’s an honest audience.

you’re both writers, with him being the successful musician he is and you being a best-selling romance novelist which works out perfectly for the two of you when writer’s block takes over.

it there’s a chapter or moment you’re unsure of, he’s always eager to help even if he seems busy. you’ve always done the same for him when he can’t find the right word or turn of phrase to carry his latest tune, you’re quick to set aside your laptop to help.

still, anyone who knows you two knows that you’re the two most competitive people in the world.

every bit of advice comes with its own witty comment.

harry never fails to find your weaker moments, suggesting that the youthful confession of love in chapter four should be shyer and that your main characters should struggle more when nervous to tell the other how they feel.

you’re quick as a whip to point out any misspellings or made-up words, or as he likes to call it ‘harryisms’ and advise a shift of words to make the flow of lyrics fit better when he has too many syllables.

its all good-natured, you’re both stubborn perfectionists in the end and highly supportive of the others.

but that doesn’t stop you from sneaking into his bathroom early in the mornings to bring harry asperin, having learned early on that he has a nasty habit of falling asleep in the bathtub with his typewriter when he needs a late-night change of scenery when struggling with finalizing a song.

its become a habit for harry to get you an espresso every morning in the weeks leading up to a deadline when sleep is chased away by nerves and procrastination. he hates to hear you fell asleep at another meeting with your publisher.

still, the loving jabs at each other just serve as distractions.

he’ll loudly barge into your room at 2am to tell you your typing is keeping him up late as he slowly picks up the latest printed chapter of your book, tucking into his ridiculously fluffy yellow robe as he tells himself its just a much needed late-night read.

you simply scoff at him, not looking away from your laptop as you tell him you’ll stop as soon as he stops singing so loudly in the morning when he makes breakfast, carefully pausing your harry styles radio on spotify and hoping he couldn’t hear his music blasting through your earbuds.

it’s never been a secret you two admire each other’s work, there isn’t an unsupportive bone in either of your bodies.

and its been that way since the two of you met in a rushed coffee meeting in between business meetings in between work. he needed a ‘flatmate’ and you needed an apartment closer to your publishing house.

a friend of a friend had mentioned you at some point during a fashion show two years ago and harry was happy to reach out and ask to meet.

harry sat hunched over his warm coffee mug, his olive green jacket collar popped up to keep him warm as he watched you carefully sip your pomegranate tea, unbothered by the wind as you sat outside the fairly empty cafe.

his hair was longer back then, being relentlessly pushed into his cheery face with every gust of wind until you had graciously offered him a dark yellow hair tie. the two of you had instantly begun chatting like old friends.

“it’s freezing out here,” he exclaimed, his teeth chattering and his eyes wide as he held his mug close under his chin, ducking down to feel the steam on his face. after another particularly strong gust of wind, harry set his mug down and reached down to zip up his jacket. his brows furrowed and his face grew comically annoyed, making you stifle a laugh, before he shifted back in his seat and began to tug at the thin material of his white shirt which had somehow gotten caught in the teeth of his zipper. Once he successfully freed his shirt and fully zipped up his jacket, he smiled widely and grabbed his mug again, squeezing it between his hands.

his nails were a deep blue, his neat manicure both impressed you and caused you to curl your hands up to hide you last minute and very messy attempt to paint you nails red before rushing here to meet him. his ripped jeans and designer boots put your leggings and worn trainers to shame.

but something in his kind eyes told you it didn’t matter to harry. he had seemed ecstatic to see you, practically leaping onto you once he took in your faded fleetwood mac shirt you definitely stole from your mom before going off to college, crushing you in a surprisingly comforting hug.

“sorry. i guess i’m stuck in the habit of sitting outside, i’ve only gone in to order.”

“you don't have to apologize, ‘sides, it has a nice view of the park.”

“exactly. perfect to people watch.”

he had laughed at that, nodding as you casually checked the time on your phone.

“sorry, what time is it?”

“one thirty two.”

“don’t you have that meeting at two?”

“oh,” blinking, it dawned on you that you did indeed have a meeting you were scared shitless for. “it’s okay, i can reschedule.”

“no, no its fine. we can wrap this up.” finishing up his coffee, he set his mug down and rubbed his hands together quickly. “jeremy hatcher said you were still looking for a flatmate in the city. my flat is far too big for just me and it’d be nice to not come home to an empty house; i haven’t been adjusting well to living alone. i don’ t have anything planned for the next few months but normally, i travel for wo--”

“i know who you are, harry,” you laughed. when he looked at you surprised, you added, “the whole world does, your band has been the focus of every tabloid for weeks since you decided to go on hiatus.”

seeing him grimace made you realize that you never wanted to see him frown again.

“i am so, so sorry that was uncalled for.”

“maybe a bit.”

“you should make plans.”

“what?”

“just because you don’t have a band anymore doesn’t mean you can’t keep doing what you love. i’m sure everyone tells you this but its a blessing in disguise,” sighing, you rubbed your neck, unsure of why you were opening up so quickly to a practical stranger you wanted to live with. “i got laid off from my last job where i was cowriting mystery novels with eight other writers. i have a draft due in twenty minutes that i’m terrified to deliver because i’ve never published a book that didn’t have my name in tiny print. i’m scared people read my books because of the other seven authors but i’m also happy because this is my work. its what i want to write and if no one reads it, so be it because i know i’ll read it. maybe my parents will too. but i’ll have said what i want to have said.”

harry’s smile from earlier grew tenfold and he quickly stood up, startling you. “You shouldn’t be nervous about that meeting. i think you’ll be fine. and i’ll be happy to read it once you move in.”

“what?” you asked in shock, watching as harry dug through his jacket pockets before awkwardly shoving a hand down the tight pocket of his skinny jeans, pulling out a few crumpled dollars which he set on the table, placing his mug ontop of them to protect them from the breeze. “you hardly know me! you can’t just ask me to live with you after half an hour. i could be a murderer. don’”t ask me to be your roommate yet!”

stepping back, harry chuckled and shrugged, his hands moving up to grab at the drawstrings of his hood. “i’d like to think i know you well. besides, that’s the best part, we can’t rush getting to know each other.”

“you can’t just leave!” you exclaimed as he pulled his hood up and began to walk away.

“yes i can,” harry spun on his heel to take one last glance before frantically tapping at his bare wrist, “and you have a meeting to get to!”

“harry!”

“i know you’ll do great roommate!”

#harry styles tpwk #harry styles blurb #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles #romance movies #romance novels #romance #styles #roommates #friends to lovers #harry styles x y/n

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spectralscathath · 4 years

Text

Skinny Vanilla Latte

Mikaela is the world's nicest customer, and Yuu's heart absolutely Does Not go 'doki doki' whenever he comes into the cafe for his standard order. Anyone who says otherwise is entirely incorrect. (Mikayuu but Coffee Shop AU)

Commissioned Mikayuu oneshot for @fyrecrackeruwu

Ao3 link, ff.net link

“Peppermint mocha, extra whip, for Lacus!” Yuichiro called out, trying to remember his customer service smile even though he knew his eyes said ‘I’ll kill you’ to every person in the café. Narumi just had to go and get a new job, like the traitorous bitch he was. Being a lifeguard wasn’t even a real thing.

Narumi’s absence left the Moon Demon Café down a barista, and because Shinoa and Kimizuki were banned from interacting with the general public, Yuu had been the only one they could shunt from the kitchen into front of house.

Fuck this job. If he didn’t need it so badly he’d have tossed his apron in Guren’s stupid face to get rid of the shitsmug smirk.

“Hi, welcome to the Moon Demon Café,” he turned to the next customer. “What can I-” oh my god. Don’t pause keep talking. “… I get you today?”

Holy SHIT someone call Heaven because an angel had gone missing. Seriously, the customer standing on the other side of the counter was the prettiest guy Yuu had ever seen. Not to be corny on main, but this was the first time Yuu had ever thought ‘eyes like sapphires, hair like spun gold’ had ever felt like actually applicable metaphors for someone.

“A skinny vanilla latte, please?” Pretty Boy said with the utmost politeness, and Yuu remembered that breathing existed and so did brain functions.

“Of course, can I interest you in any of our specials today?” He put on his best grin, writing down the coffee.

“No thank you, just the coffee.” Pretty Boy kept smiling, already having his card ready to pay because clearly this guy was Mr Perfect Customer.

“Sure thing, can I get a name for this order?” He barely held back from tacking a pet name onto the end, but he managed. Someone get him a medal.

“Mikaela. Mika works though, please don’t try spell ‘Mikaela’.” Pretty Boy- Mika’s- smile became slightly glassy, with the wartorn eyes of someone who’d had consistent misspellings of their name throughout their life.

“Mika it is,” Yuu grinned at him and scrawled it down. “I’ll have that ready for you in a jiffy.” Why the fuck did he say ‘jiffy’.

Mikaela snorted, bringing a hand up to cover his smile. “Sure thing.”

Yuu smiled and started up the coffee grinder, his cheer instantly evaporating away when he heard the sound of an empty grinder. Where were the coffee beans kept again? Shinoa better not have moved their location to fuck with him.

“It’ll be just a sec,” he forced a grin at Mika, getting a shrug in return. Customer seemed chill, cool. He reached under the counter to find empty air, instantly ducking down to check. Nothing but coffee residue from the bags. Welp.

“Hey, Kimizuki?” He yelled at the back.

“What?!”

“Where’d the coffee get moved?”

“You think I know?! Figure it out yourself, dumbass! I’m cooking!”

Yuu’s eye twitched and he counted to ten in his head to prevent himself from leaping through the overpass to wring Kimizuki’s neck. “Of course,” he grumbled. “Let me just pull some coffee beans out of my ass, that’s how we run things here.”

There was a soft chuckle and Yuu blanched, realising that shitfuck his sarcastic grumbling might have been a little too audible. He whipped around. “Uh- sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Mika hid his laughter behind his hand again, blue eyes glittering like sapphires. “No no, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Yuu relaxed a little bit, kinda starstruck by the mirthful twinkle in those eyes. “I’ll just find you the coffee, give me a moment.” He spun around, hunting through every cabinet he could until he managed to find a dark roast with ‘hi Yuu’ scrawled on it in purple glittery ink. Shinoa and her fucking gel pens.

He started making the coffee properly this time, mentally promising that he would commit first-degree murder and get away with it the minute Shinoa showed her rat face again. He waited for the coffee machine to do the job and wrote Mika’s name on the takeaway cup, pausing before thinking to himself ‘fuck it’ and adding his phone number. He was gonna take the shot, especially since Mr Gorgeous had laughed at his sarcasm.

He finished putting it all together and smiled as he handed it over. “Skinny vanilla latte for Mika.”

“Thank you,” Mika grinned and pulled out a cup sleeve, slipping it onto the cup and completely hiding Yuu’s number. Yuu’s smile cracked. Fuck.

“Uh-” But Mika was already walking away after dropping change in the tip jar.

“Thank you!” He waved goodbye, the door closing behind him with a little jingle.

“You’re… welcome.” Goodbye gorgeous. Guess Yuu’d never see him again.

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

It was with great surprise that Yuu did in fact see Mika again, this time over Mitsuba’s shoulder as she did the ordering and customer talking while he just made coffee after endless coffee. Fuck rush hour holy shit.

He tried to catch Mika’s eye in-between frothing up milk and shaking cocoa powder over a cappuccino, green catching and locking with blue for the barest second before Mika smiled widely and gave him a little wave, a fancy-looking camera hanging around his neck. “Hi Yuu. Good luck with the rest of your shift, I hope it calms down a bit.”

“What, this? It’s no problem!” Yuu bragged, before he caught the side of his wrist on the milk spout and bit back a curse. Always with the burns.

“See you next time.” Mika grabbed his coffee, oblivious to Yuu’s plight, and walked out the door, again emptying some coins into the tip jar before he left.

Mitsuba turned to Yuu, blonde twintails bouncing with the movement. “You know that guy? He’s the nicest customer I’ve had yet. I hope he becomes a regular.”

“Yeah.” Yuu nodded. “Me too.”

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

Mika did, in fact, become a regular. Which was awesome.

Every Wednesday and Friday like clockwork he’d show up, order his skinny vanilla latte to have there, pick a booth, and do stuff on his laptop. It was pretty cool, aside from the fact that Yuu couldn’t write terrible pick-up lines on the latte glasses.

That was Plan A of ‘Operation: get Mika’s number’ thwarted.

Plan B was to write it on the napkins, but then the problem was that Mika didn’t order food. Currently Yuu was on Plan C, which was Plan B but better.

Mika walked in with his laptop bag and his camera-holding thingie, waiting patiently in line until he was at the counter. “Hi Yuu.”

“Hey Mika. The usual?” Yuu gave him a charming grin.

“That’d be great, thank you.” Mika beamed. It was really pretty.

Yuu had to take a second to recover. “Easy, one usual coming up. Do you want to try a muffin to go with it? On the house, between you and me.”

Mika looked like he was considering it and for a moment Yuu’s hopes were rising, rising higher- “Thank you for the offer, but I already ate. Just the coffee, please.” And down those hopes fell, dashed against the rocks and crumpled like wretched Lucifer, cast from Heaven into the pits of hell.

“Sure thing. Give me a shot if you need a refill.”

“Will do.” Mika smiled at him, paid, and pottered off to go take a seat.

Yuu watched him go, noticing that he was wearing thigh-high boots what the fuck that wasn’t fair. That was illegal, that had to be illegal.

“Uh, sir? Sir? Can I order now?” Someone rang the bell and Yuu snapped back to reality, looking at the man in the- what the fuck was that a fucking cat? It looked like this man had lopped off the skull of a white tiger and mounted it on his head what the actual fuck. Yuu really hoped it was fake, he desperately fucking prayed.

Okay, goodbye Mika, hello Crazy Customer of the Day #309.

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

“Afternoon, Mika, the usual?” Yuu grinned at him, the café a bit quieter than usual. Maybe this time he could get a good conversation in while making Mika’s coffee.

“Yep, and also an English Breakfast tea, no sugars. I hope that’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all. You meeting a friend here?” He hoped it wasn’t a date. His attempts to try give Mika his number through shitty pick-up lines could not be foiled so easily.

“You could say that.” Mika smiled cheerfully, offering his card. “On debit, please.”

“No prob. He here yet?” Yuu looked around, not spotting any new faces.

“He said he’d be by in a few minutes. I’m surprised there’s not a rush, normally this place is quite busy. I thought getting a table would be harder.” Mika looked quite concerned at that.

Yuu waved it off as he finished putting in the docket. “It’s pre-midterms week. Everyone’s panic-studying, ordering pizza in, all that stuff.”

Mika chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m on top of my studies then, or else I might have had to miss out on the best coffee on campus.”

“Wouldn’t want that.” Yuu shot him a finger gun and a wink, before wondering if he’d overdone it. Luckily, Mika seemed to find it hilarious by how his smile went supernova and his laugh bubbled out of him.

“Definitely not. Thanks again.” Mika placed some coins in the tip jar before he went to the booth he always tried to sit at, pulling out his phone once he sat down.

Yuu watched him go and set to work on making the drinks, wondering if he should try make a food platter. Counterpoint to him trying to woo Mika through good food was the fact that Kimizuki was a snotty bitch who would kill him if he gave out even more free food, crushes be damned.

And yeah, Yuu could totally throw down with Kimizuki, but Mitsuba would tattle about it if there was a fight and he’d probably lose his job.

He’d just have to make it the best damn coffee in existence.

He was halfway through making the tea when a man walked in, and Yuu had to stop and stare for a sec because while yes, he was very fucking gay for Mika, he still had eyes.

It was when the total hunk sat down in front of Mika that Yuu felt his bout of ‘he’s pretty’ turn into entirely rational jealousy. Was Mika dating this guy? It took a special kind of hotness to pull off a braid and dyed bangs, Yuu could admit.

He put on his customer service smile as he carried the drinks over, rampant envy broiling in his veins. He set drinks down, being extra delicate and polite with Mika’s coffee and blanking out the other guy entirely. “here you go, Mika. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks. Crowley, this is Yuu, the barista I mentioned. Yuu, this is my dad, Crowley.”

Yuu practically heard the record scratch sound. Dad?

His next thought was along the lines of ‘oh thank god, Mika’s still possibly available’, and he was starting to realise he may be desperate. “Nice to meet you, Crowley.”

“You too,” Crowley grinned back with a touch of a British accent curling around the words, red eyes twinkling in amusement. “Thanks for the cuppa, luv.”

Yuu nodded before tuning him out again and giving another smile to Mika, going around to clear some other tables and already plotting his next move. Fingerguns and winks were now on the table. Mhuahahahaha.

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

“So, Mika, how’s the photography?” Yuu struck up a conversation as he cleared away the latte glass, taking advantage of the restaurant’s quiet to try and kickstart a deep meaningful conversation that he was absolutely going to fill with stupid jokes.

“it’s going well,” Mika smiled, saving the photoshop file on the screen. Clearly he’d lost a file once by accident and saved every program with the vigour of a spartan warrior ever since. “Are you interested in photography?”

“Actually, I’m studying psychology,” Yuu grinned. “Gonna go for a masters if I can once I’m done with this, then eventually you’ll have to address me as Dr Yuichiro.”

Mika’s smile sharpened slightly. “A PhD, huh?”

“Thinking about it.” He shrugged, trying to look humble when he was anything but.

“I think Dr Yuichiro’s got a good ring to it,” Mika smiled slyly, and oh no that wasn’t fair he was not allowed to make it sound so sexy.

“You’re the first. Kimizuki said I shouldn’t be allowed near people,” he grinned.

“And you work the register?” Mika laughed.

“Used to work in the back ‘til Narumi up and ditched us to ‘follow his dreams’,” Yuu told him conspiratorially. “I’m the only one of the kitchen staff who can reliably not scare away customers, so I got shunted here.”

“Maybe I should thank Narumi then, if he got me such a good barista,” Mika smiled. “You’re not scary at all.”

“How dare you, I’m terrifying,” he joked.

Mika scoffed, sapphire eyes sparkling. “As terrifying as my cat.”

Yuu let out a theatrical gasp, balancing his tray on one hand as he clutched his heart. “I think I liked you better when you were a polite customer.”

Mika blinked innocently at him, a challenge curling at the edges of his toothy grin. “Am I not anymore? Shame.”

What a brat. Yuu smirked at him in answer. “Well, I can’t be rude to customers, so I’m legally required to say no.”

“Only legally? Not morally?” Mika rested his chin in his hands as he leaned forward on the table, his photoshop file left entirely forgotten.

“Morally I can say whatever the hell I want as long as it’s not said in front of consumers.” Yuu winked.

“I guess you’re treading on thin ice right now, huh?” Mika bit his lip in affected concern, a prominent pearly canine catching for a moment, and Yuu’s mind went fucking blank. “Best be careful then. I wouldn’t want my favourite barista to go jobless. Right, Yuu-chan?~”

“R-right.” Yuu stuttered for a moment as he tried and failed to come up with literally any kind of flirty remark in reply, getting zero zilch zip from his flatscreening brain. Head empty no thoughts. “I’ll get you a refill, then?”

Mika’s smile screamed ‘cat who caught the canary’. “Don’t keep me waiting, Yuu-chan.”

He nodded and scampered back behind the counter, taking a minute to settle his racing heart. He heard a tapping sound and looked at the overpass into the kitchen, Kimizuki rapping a spatula on the counter.

“You’re pathetic.” Kimizuki’s scornful gaze was only amplified by the glasses he wore.

Yuu flipped him off. Fuck Kimizuki.

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

Yuu steeled his nerve as Mika walked in, refusing to let his crush pull one over on him again. Shinoa hadn’t let up since Kimizuki had told her, and Yuu was getting real tired of every whipcrack hand motion she was sending his way.

Mika smiled very innocently as he walked up to the counter, blue eyes bright and oh-so-breathtaking. “Hello, Yuu-chan.”

Little bastard.

“Good to see you too, Mika,” he grinned, resting his elbows on the counter. “Here for your usual, or are you thinking of switching it up?”

“Hm,” Mika tilted his head like he was considering it. “Now that you mention it, maybe I should try something out. How about something a little sweeter this time, Yuu-chan?”

“I think you’re sweet enough already,” Yuu flirted cheesily, watching Mika’s eyes widen a touch. That’s right, he could flirt too. All that ‘Yuu-chan’ business had no power over him now. “But sure, hit me up with what you want to try.”

Mika’s eyes sparkled delightfully, a challenge in his smile. “What’s your poison, then?”

Yuu raised a brow. “Well, I’m a black coffee kind of guy-”

“Because you grind so fine?” Mika interrupted him, like he didn’t just say the sexy pick up line for Yuu.

He gave Mika a Look, Mika merely batting his eyes back at him. “Double shot, nothing extra.” Maybe a bit of hazelnut when he really needed a pick-me-up. “That’s my coffee.”

“A ‘keep me up til two AM’ kind of guy, I like that.” Mika snickered.

“Stop it,” Yuu cautioned. Only he was allowed to use terrible puns like that.

“Make me,” Mika downright dared him, leaning over the counter a little more.

Yuu grabbed his chin and looked him in the eye, a spark of victory gleaming in his emerald gaze. “Keep it up and we’ll see where it gets you, gorgeous.”

Mika’s pupils dilated.

Yuu smirked at him and let go, picking up the docket sheet. “So, coffee order? You’re holding up the line, babe.”

Mika beamed, a smile like spun sunshine. “You know what, I think I’ll go for my usual after all. But maybe next time I’ll be a bit more daring.”

“Sure you will.” Yuu winked at him. “Later, beautiful.”

Mika laughed as he went to his favourite booth, Yuu internally high-fiving himself as he went. That went excellently.

Okay. Next time he’d ask him out. Next time for sure.

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

Today was the day. It was absolutely the day. Today for sure.

He handed Mika his coffee, got ready to say ‘I love you give me your number’, and chickened out when he realised that was absolutely not the way to ask and would instead plant him straight in ‘ultra creep’ territory.

Next week. Next week for sure.

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

Yuu looked up from wiping down the counter, groaning as Shinoa came in. “Aren’t you meant to be on your day off?”

“Well, yes,” Shinoa smiled far too innocently, and Yuu’s hackles went up with suspicion. “But my dearest friend has been telling me ALL about his new favourite café, so I had to come by and see it.”

“Shinoa, you work here.” Yuu glared at her.

“He doesn’t know that,” she smirked, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I never say names, my darling Yuu.”

“I never agreed to you calling me that.”

“I don’t care.” She swanned up to the counter, propping herself up on her hands and tiptoes. Yuu scowled as she smeared her hands all over the area he’d literally just wiped clean. “Now gimme free coffee.”

“Fuck off. Employee discount only and even then I’m debating making you pay full price.”

“You’re so mean,” she pouted. “And when I’m buying for my friend as well. I think you’d like him, as much as a big meanie like you can like anyone.”

“I like people, I’m not Kimizuki,” he rolled his eyes. “Who’s your damn friend?”

“Oh, you might know him.” Her evil grin came back full-force, making her look downright demented. “Why don’t we see if you can guess from his order?”

“Do you know how many customers we have?” Yuu snapped a tea towel at her hands. “Hands off the counter, you’re probably infested with something.”

“Boo you.” She huffed and raised her hands, twiddling her fingers as she did. “Anyway, I want a multi-mega mocha milkshake with extra sprinkles and four shots of coffee. Oh! And whipped cream. Lots of it.”

“You’re going to die from a caffeine overdose and I will film it.” He wiped the counter down again out of spite.

“Maybe so, but at least I’ll die not hopelessly pining for some boy who takes, oh, what was it now?” She tapped her chin, looking deep in thought. He didn’t buy it for a second, especially not when she turned a vicious smile onto him. “Oh, right, skinny vanilla latte. Large.”

He wondered what the hell kind of expression he made that had her cackling like the wicked witch she was. “You gotta be joking.”

“Nope, and remember, on the cup for that one, my friend’s name is Mik-ae-la~” She sounded out the name, taking too much joy in it. “And make it fast, sweetcheeks, he’s going to be here soon.”

“I hate you with every blood cell in my body.”

“Make sure to put one of your cute little pick-up lines on that now,” she winked. “I’ve been reading them whenever I take out the trash. You’re so desperate it’s cute. Now shoo shoo, make me coffee, coffee man.” She flicked a hand at him, revelling in the power that a customer had. Shit like this was why she was banned from interacting with the general public at work.

“Sure thing. I’ll bring your drinks out to you,” he forced out through a smile, teeth grinding together as he gritted them. His eye may have twitched. He wasn’t sure.

She twirled around and skipped to her seat, spinning her favourite little trinket in her hand and making the green and orange lights on it flare up like she was at a rave. He tried to stare a hole through the back of her head before he set about making her the drinks she ordered.

Mika. Mika was friends with Shinoa. It was a testament to how in love he was with that guy that knowing Mika willingly hung out with Shinoa did not become an immediate turn off. He liked her too, sure, for whatever was left of his sanity’s sake, but she was still a pain.

He heard the little bell above the door jingle and glanced up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Mika waving at him. “Hey Yuu,” Mika grinned, sounding way too proud of himself.

“Hey Mika,” he smiled back, unable to stop himself from getting all soppy at the edges. “Skinny vanilla?”

“You bet,” he winked at Yuu and sauntered off to sit with Shinoa, the two of them immediately starting up some sort of gossipy conversation judging by the hand motions and expressions.

He looked down at the drinks he was plating up, took a deep breath, and furiously scribbled a puntastic pick-up line and his number on the napkin under Mika’s coffee. This was it. He was going to do it.

“I am not a coward,” he muttered to himself, picking up the tray and carrying it over. “That was a multi-mega mocha milkshake with quadruple shots, extra whip, and sprinkles, and a large skinny vanilla latte?”

“She’s having the deathshake.” Mika pointed at Shinoa, who fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“No problem.” Yuu set the drinks down, trying to ignore how he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his eardrums like the bass beat of a good metal concert, keeping on a smile that was at this point reserved only for Mika. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Mika reached for a packet of sugar and dumped it into his coffee, picking up his spoon before his hand froze, sapphire eyes tracing over the wickerscratch handwriting on the napkin.

Are you an espresso? Because you’re a shot to my heart. Call me?

Mika blinked up at him, Yuu frozen in place with the sort of calm that only came from blasting beyond panic and landing in the cool grey apathy of total nerve-ridden shutdown.

Shinoa snorted, the sound snapping Yuu out of his quiet reverie. “Uh- I mean, unless you want to kinda- not to be a creep or anything, but we could-” he paused when Mika put a finger over his lips.

Mika’s smile was soft as silk. “I like movies?”

“Movies. Right. I’m off at eight?” No way no way no way-

“Eight sounds great,” Mika’s grin became a bit toothier. “I’ll meet you out front?”

“It’s a date?” Yuu smiled hopefully.

Mika grabbed the front of his apron and kissed his cheek. “You bet it is.”

“Great!” He gave him a thumbs up, practically floating back towards the counter with a sunshine smile all his own.

He heard Kimizuki scoff from the overpass at him. “What coffee shop fanfiction bullshit is this?”

Yuu ignored him, too happy to even care. Best workshift ever.

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #mikaela hyakuya #yuichiro hyakuya #mikayuu #yuumika #yuumikayuu #fyrecrackeruwu #my writings #commission

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thevelvetseries · 5 years

Text

I’ll Stay

Summary : Isabela is a foster child who has had a hard life. She has looked after her two younger siblings Antionette and Mila from a very young age and they have been moved around to many different foster homes until they come to their latest house. Her 2 little sisters warm up to the Ackles faster than Isabela. All she is looking for is a place to keep her siblings safe.

Pairing : Jensen Ackles x Foster Daughter Reader / Danneel Ackles x Foster Daughter Reader / Isabela Gomez OFC (AGE 16) / Antionette Gomez OFC (AGE 5) / Mila Gomez (AGE 8)

Warnings : Fluff, Angst

A/N : Today I watched a movie called Instant Family and it just got me in my feelings and I really wanted to write a little story like the one the movie presented. Also the song by Isabela Merced – I’ll Stay that was played out the end of the movie really inspired me as well.

Main Masterlist

Me and my two sister were currently sitting in the back of our social workers car being driver all the way across town to live with our new foster family. Our social worker always made sure that if someone wanted to foster one of us she would make sure they knew they had to foster all of us as we came together and didn’t want to be split up. I first started taking care of my younger siblings when I was around 12 years old when my mum disappeared for nearly two weeks. I just woke up one day and she was nowhere to be found. I made sure I got them both feed and washed and made sure they were ok. I didn’t end up going to school during that time, and that was the first time that CPS came around. At first I didn’t know what was happening. Mum was back now, I didn’t tell anyone that she was gone. Ends up the school was wondering where I was for two weeks without letting them know I was away, they phoned my mum and no answer and since they became a little worried they phones CPS to check out to see if we were ok. Turns out we weren’t in there eyes.

We were now pulling up to a house. Melissa opened her window and pressed a button on the intercom and waited for an answer. Once she identified herself the gate opened and we started to drive up to the house. It was much bigger than I expected it to be. Antionette and Mila were staring out of the car window amazed by the house, as they’d never seen something this big before. We were used to small rooms, not a lot of food and being around horrible people who really didn’t want us. Melissa parked the car and started to get out the car and went to open the boot to get out our belongings while I got us three out of the car. I made sure they looked presentable and told them to be on there best behaviour and to be polite, even though I know at some point that will fly out of the window. While we were staying by the care getting ready the door of the house opens and a man and woman come out they start to walk up to us and Melissa.

That’s when the women speaks up and introduces themselves to us. “Hey, I’m Danneel and this is my husband Jensen we’re the Ackles. It’s to nice to finally meet you guys.” I smile at them while the little ones tell them their names. They always liked meeting new people, they always become attached very quickly, I on the other hand didn’t. I said hello though out of politeness and we all headed into the house. Melissa stayed for awhile and helped us get settled into the house before leaving. We were shown to our rooms, Antionette and Mila were sharing a room down the hall from you and I had my own room. We were on the top floor, I didn’t mind though the house was very big. They didn’t have any children, why did they think they could look after 3 children at once. Mila and Antionette spent the evening playing in the living room with the toys they brought with them while I watched them reading my book to make sure they were ok.

Everything in this house seemed perfect. They were nice people but still in the back of my mind was why were they doing this. Were they just doing this to make themselves look better to their family and friends, or doing some charity thing. I was going to keep an eye out for sure. Later on that night I found out the Jensen was an actor and dint spend that much time in the house during the year, but since he was on hiatus he was at home until he had to leave next.

We had currently been living with the Ackles for 2 week now and have been going to school for the past week. I was the only one going to high school while the little ones were going to be attending the elementary a school. Jensen had just parked outside the high school and turned off the engine. He told me to have a good day and I went off my way. I got assigned to my classes and went on with my day, I liked the school people were kind, didn’t ask too many questions and everything seemed like it was going to be ok. By the end of the school day, Jensen came back around to pick me up while Danneel picked the little ones up from school.

When we arrived home Danneel and the kiddos were already home and Danneel was already starting to prepare dinner. I helped the kids do their homework before getting out the laptop that Jensen has given me permission to use to start writing my English essay which is due in 2 weeks. Romeo and Juliet a simple story about love but full with anger. I was half way wiring the essay when a knock came from my bedroom door, and it opened slightly.

“Hey Bela, hows the essay writing going?” Jensen asked while walking into the room.

“Ermm… it’s going ok. Should have it done by tonight.” I say putting the laptop next to me on the bed.

“Well that’s good.” Jensen said while nodding his head. “I just came up to let you know dinner is ready.”

“Ok, just let me save this file and wash my hands and I’ll be down.” I say. Jensen nods and gets up and leaves.

I washed my hands and made my way downstairs. I reach the dining room everyone was just about to sit down. I sat between Mila and Antionette, Danneel and Jensen started to bring in plates of food and places them in front of all of us. Antionette just starred at her plate. I could understand why we haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in so long. Since we have been here, the past week we’ve have some takeout and a bbq. This was our first sit down dinner.

“Where’s the potato chips?” Antionette asked.

“We’re not having any chips tonight sweetheart.” Danneel said while picking up her knife and fork.

“I want my chips” Antionette continued.

That’s when I started to intervene. I don’t want her to get into trouble. “Antionette” I say at a louder volume.

“It’s ok Bela” Danneel said. “Me and Jensen worked really hard to make this dinner, we wanted to make lots of yummy for for us to all eat.”

“NO! I want my chips” Antionette shouted.

“No les hablas así.” (You don’t talk to them like that.) I raised me voice to Toni. She started to shout back and me and hit my hands away from her as I was trying to keep her from having a tantrum at the dinner table.

“Bela stop. Let me handle this.” Danneel said with a raised voiced, like she was shouting.

“Why are you yelling? I’m only trying to help.” I say back to her.

“IM NOT YELLing” Danneel shouted but got quiet near the end. “Well then I was, but I.” She turned to Antionette and continued “don’t do what Bela said. But Bela I’ve got this” I just nod at her and sit back in my seat and let her handle it on her own. I started to eat my potatoes listening to them.

“I don’t think she is getting on board with the plan hunny” Jensen said across the table.

Antionette kept shouting, she got up from the table and ran into the kitchen and got a bag of chips. Things started to happen and somehow the bags of chips popped open and went everywhere, then her milk got knocked over and went all down her clothes. She started to make her angry noise. She would heavy breath which would sound like she was growling like a dog. She picked up her plastic knife from the table and kept looking at them.

“Can I? I ask. They nod.

“Baja el cuchillo ahora.” (Put the knife down now.) I say while grabbing it down of her little hand. “ahora vamos al baño y lavemos y luego disculpemos cuando hayamos terminado.” (Now we go to the bathroom and wash and then apologize when we're done.) and then I dragged her to the bathroom. “gracias” Jensen said. When we were done she apologised and gave them both a hug. I spent the rest of the night in my bedroom reading my book before I fell asleep.

We had been living with the Ackles for nearly a month now, I’ve noticed that they talk about work but they never really leave the house that much. Maybe the work while we are at school but something always felt off about that. It was now the weekend. I was in the front room watching morning cartoons with the little ones while Danneel and Jensen made breakfast. That’s when the front door to the house opened up and a tall man and a small woman walked in to the house since they don’t have to walk past the living room to enter the kitchen we didn’t see them, but I saw them pass in the mirror. About 5 minutes later Jensen walked into the room and caught our attention.

“Hey. So breakfast will be done soon. I also wanted to let you know we are having a few friends over for have breakfast with us if that’s ok with you all.” He said while sitting down on the couch.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” I say and Antionette and Mila nod.

“Ok, well when is program finishes come on through to the kitchen for me please” Jensen said before leaving the room.

When I knew he was out of earshot I started to tell the girls that they needed to be nice to them. Even though we don’t know who they are they will prob be apart of our lives for a little while if not more. So we needed to make a good impression. We finished watching the show and made our way into the kitchen where the four adults were drinking coffee and there was a bowl of fruit and a tray of stacked pancakes in the middle of the table. We made our way inside and sat down at the table. The couple introduced themselves Jared and Genevieve, they were married. They knew each other as Jared and Jensen worked together.

“Oh, cool. What do you guys do?” I ask to them which eating some of the raspberries that where on my plate.

Jared looked at Jensen a little confused I didn’t understand why at first but them I found of they were all actors and actresses. Now I was a little on edge. Was I right? We’re they doing this since they wanted to look good in front of the world. That’s when I started to shut down a little, I just focused on my siblings and made sure that ate there breakfast. When we finished breakfast we went back into the living room, Antionette and Mila continued to watch TV while I read my book. After awhile I got myself ready for the day. I turned on my laptop and started playing my playlist while I took a shower. When I was done I rembered the conversation that happened during breakfast and decided to do some googling.

I typed in the search bar Jensen Ackles. Jensen Ross Ackles is an American actor, singer and director. Best know for his role as Dean Winchester on the CW show Supernatural. It carried on telling his birthday and all that jazz. He had also been in a few movies and other TV shows over the years. I also did the same with Danneel there didn’t seem to be anything bad to there names or what was on the surface. I was a little curious did they act the same way they did with us at home like he does on his show, was this an act. He’s an actor for a living was this all a lie, they stayed in my head for a long time.

After awhile I got dressed I’d my hair and put on some light makeup and headed downstairs. Antionette and Mila were still in there PJ’s. I entered the living room “Vamos, ustedes dos. Lavarse y vestirse.” (Come on, you two. Wash and dress.) I say they both start to wine a little. Jensen and Danneel and Jared and Genevieve were all looking at me wondering what I had said. “Now please.” I say with a smile. They get up off the floor and start to walk out the room “Help each other” and they left the room.

“What did you say to them?” Jensen asked.

“Oh.. just to get washed and dressed. They can do it.” I say and sit back down where I was before I got ready.

“You know you don’t need to look after them like that anymore right. We’re here, that’s what we are here for.” He replied.

“I know. It’s just I’m still used to it. Plus I don’t think they would move if it got too late.” I say with a little laugh.

Around lunch time all of us were in the backyard. At this point the Padalecki’s decided to bring there kids over since they were done with morning practice. All 5 of the kids were playing on the grass. Jared and Jensen were manning the BBQ, and I sat reading my book, when I decided to bring up this mornings googling.

“So this morning after breakfast I did something.” All the adults were listening. “I may have looked you up. I just wanted to see… Ermm…. I’m not sure what I was really looking for I just wanted to see… I think.”

“Ok. Just don’t believe everything you read. Not well of it is true.” Jared says.

I nod before turning to Jensen. “Why yours voice different? You sound really different with a deeper voice.” I say.

“Annoying acting choice” he replies.

Over the past 4 months we have had our ups and downs. I’ve had my fights with the Ackles where my little siblings took to them fast. Tonight was the night I was performing at the winter musical, where you just sang, or did something in the arts. Since being in this house, this family I’ve gotten more into music and started writing some songs and tonight I was singing one I wrote for Jensen and Danneel to tell them thank you. They have made my life better that I could have imagined. I was in the dressing where the other kids where getting ready, the 2nd act was on right now, I was the second to last performer. In the audience tonight was my whole family. Jensen, Danneel and their parents and Jared and Gen and my little siblings and I was excited but nervous. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. It had been an hour, it was finally my time. I got out my chair and waited by the side of the stage. Mrs Mitchell announced my name and I walked out to the microphone and waited for the music to start. That’s when I closed my eyes.

I’ll Stay.

My feet are sore from walking all night long

No direction when there's nowhere to go

Empty picture frames of times all gone

Lonely echos of the stories we've told

If you put on my shoes walk a mile or two

'Til your eyes open wider then they used to

Then I will meet you there where the air is clear

Pinky swear, I'll meet you there

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

Familiar faces as we chase the moon

Fall in love and I'll come crying to you

Through the changes and the Earth's bad moods

I'll lay my troubled bones on you

If you, put on my shoes walk a mile or two

'Til your eyes open wider then they used to

Then I will meet you there where the air is clear

Pinky swear, I'll meet you there

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

And I'll stay, today until forever

And I'll stay, with you I see new colours

My eyes are open wider today until forever

I'll stay with you

My eyes are open wider

Tonight

When I'm a hundred two, and I can't sing to you

Close your eyes, memorise how we used to.

When I heard the crowd applauding I opened my eyes. I gave a small smile before walking off the stage. I was in shock people liked what I did. I wasn’t at failure. I stayed behind the stage to watch the last performance before making my way down to the hall to find my family. Everyone was smiling at me. Jensen gave me a hug before Danneel got one. Then I got to eyes level to hug my sisters and grave them both a kiss. This was everything I had ever wanted growing up and my life was starting to o fall into place. What I didn’t know was when I got home Jensen and Danneel was going to change all three of our lives for the better and that ways a whole other adventure waiting to happen.

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thearvariblues · 4 years

Text

The Bard and The Wolf - Chapter Three

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

Just to catch you all up before I post the next chapter. In this one, Jaskier gets drunk and does something incredibly stupid. You go, Jaskier!

You can also fins this fic on AO3 if you want.

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE

3 – When a Humble Bard...

It was a bad idea to check the comments before the rehearsal ended. It was a bad idea to check the comments at all, as he realized the moment he did it.

“Oh, cock,” he muttered, staring at the little screen. “Well. I know I said it was gonna be a shitstorm… but this is even worse than I expected.”

Renfri raised her head from her guitar and Geralt stopped fidgeting with his microphone. “What is it?” the man asked and turned his impossible amber eyes to Jaskier.

“Oh, nothing. The jury is in,” Jaskier smirked. “Apparently I’m just a common twink who’s forced Yennefer out of the band, slept my way in, and I’m not even worthy of licking her boots, let alone taking her place. And that’s one of the kinder comments.”

He blinked. He won’t cry, he just won’t. He knew it was going to be hard, that Kaer Morhen’s usual audience wouldn’t exactly welcome him with open arms, but… This was really bad. Really fucking bad.

He sighed and shook his head.

“Right. I suppose that’s it, then. It was a nice experiment, but you should probably find a… female singer.”

“Give it to me,” Geralt growled and snatched Jaskier’s phone from his hand. “It can’t be that… Fuck.”

“Basically,” Jaskier sighed.

“Can I see?” Ciri asked.

“No way!” said Jaskier and Geralt in unison.

“Oh, hell,” Renfri muttered, taking a look at her own phone. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how you spell fairy… And who the hell even uses the word fairy anymore?!”

“Our fans, obviously,” Lambert muttered, looking over Renfri’s shoulder. “Jesus. They’re vicious. I mean… I don’t even want people like that to be our fans, does it make sense?”

“Geralt?” Eskel said, and all the eyes in the room turned to the white-haired singer who looked like he was about to crush Jaskier’s phone to pieces.

“I really didn’t want to do this,” he sighed. “But I guess there’s no avoiding it, right? Fine. Fine. I’m gonna call Yennefer. Tomorrow.”

Jaskier felt himself nodding, but it was as if the body belonged to someone else. He couldn’t believe what was happening – for the second time in a fucking week. And of course it was. This had been a crazy idea from the very start. But he allowed himself to believe that it would work out in the end, because he clicked so amazingly with the band…

“Jaskier,” he heard Geralt say to him. “Jask.”

He blinked and tried to focus.

“What?”

Did Geralt seriously just call him Jask?

“I’m not gonna call her to come back. You will leave this band over my dead body. But Yennefer is a PR expert, and it was her who took care of our social media,” Geralt sighed. “What? Did you think I would beg her to come back just because a bunch of assholes on Facebook want me to? Yeah, if someone’s only reason to come and see our band was an opportunity to stare at my ex-wife’s tits, well… good riddance.”

“My words,” Renfri nodded. “Don’t worry, buttercup. We’ll sort this out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Jaskier sighed. “Would you… Would you mind if I… I’d really like to go home, if I could. I’m not in the mood for… Just not in the mood.”

“Jaskier,” Ciri said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. But I’d like to be alone tonight, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Geralt nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow and tell you the plan. Okay?”

“Right. Thanks,” Jaskier said and managed a tiny smile. “You’re a dear heart.”

He quickly started to pack his things, so no one would notice his trembling hands.

One hour and three glasses of gin and tonic later, he made a decision.

He sat up on his couch and tried to find a tiny voice of reason, the last remnants of his sobriety, just something that would stop him from doing what he was about to do – but to no avail.

His laptop was lying on the coffee table and he opened it and went to make more gin and tonic.

This was either an absolutely brilliant idea, or a truly terrible one.

Well, he was going to find out soon enough…

Geralt was having a really shitty morning. He couldn’t sleep at night. He was mad at their so-called fans for being so mean to Jaskier. (Seriously, how could they? Geralt knew Jaskier wasn’t exactly the type that screamed metal singer, but he was so sweet – being mean to him was like kicking a puppy, for fuck’s sake!) He was mad because thanks to them, he would now have to call Yennefer – and he’d promised himself that this time, he would stay away from her as much as possible.

He was mad at himself, because maybe he should have listened to the band and Ciri. Perhaps if he was in the photo with Jask…

“Geralt! Geralt!” yelled a voice, and then Renfri barged into the kitchen, holding a tablet in her hand. It startled Geralt so much that he dropped his coffee mug in his lap. Luckily, the coffee was already getting cold, but his morning got much shittier nevertheless.

“What is it?” he growled.

“Look what I’ve just found – and guess where? On our very own Facebook page, shared by us!”

“Great. But what is it?”

“For fuck’s sake, Geralt… It’s a video, can’t you see? From Youtube.”

“What video?” Geralt frowned.

“Jesus Christ, what have I done to you...” Renfri sighed and tapped on the screen.

The video started with Jaskier sitting on his couch, wearing the same black trousers, black T-shirt and vest he’d been wearing to the rehearsal the day before. His hair was all ruffled, his face was flushed and he was smiling stupidly.

He was so cute Geralt had to bite his lip so he wouldn’t smile himself.

“Hello, hello,” Jaskier said. “My dearest… Witchlings? Witchitas? Witch… Witcherlings! Yeah, that sounds great. Hello, my dearest Witcherlings. As you may have noticed, this is Jaskier, the brand new singer of your beloved Kaer Morhen.”

Idiot, Geralt thought. They already hate you, and you go and call them “Witcherlings”?

“You’re probably thinking: Christ, is he drunk?” Jaskier went on. “And no, I am not. I’m merely slightly tipsy. The important difference is that when you’re tipsy, you’re able to post stupid videos of you yourself, but when you’re drunk, you need other people to do it for you. But since I am indeed on my way to drunk, we should probably hurry this up a little. Cheers to you, my dears.”

Jaskier raised his glass full of some clear, sparkling liquid. Geralt had no idea what it was, but it definitely wasn’t water.

“Now,” Jaskier said, taking a sip from his glass. “I think we can start this with a little AMA session. Here on my… trusty phone, I have a few questions you guys have posted on our Facebook, and I’m going to try and answer them now. Question number one: Where did they even dig out this pretentious twink? Well, I could object to being called a twink, since I’m definitely too old and tall and fat for that, but whatever. The answer is, they found me on the pavement outside their rehearsal room. I mean, I was standing there, I was having a shitty day, Geralt and Renfri saw me, invited me in for a drink, I played a few funny songs for the band and Geralt’s daughter Ciri, and then I went home. The next thing I know, Geralt calls me that they’re looking for a new singer, and they want the singer to be me. So, to sum it up… The pretentious not-twink is basically a stray they found on the street. Funny, eh?”

This time, Geralt didn’t even try to stop his smile.

“Question number two!” Jaskier announced. “Does this twink – holy shit, I really need to change my style, don’t I? – really think he can replace the sexiness that is Yennefer? Answer – no, I don’t. I could never fit in her dress. But I can buy my own dress if you insist. I’ll do it, if it makes you more comfortable. If you want to see some cleavage on stage, I mean, I can totally give you that!”

He pulled the neckline of his T-shirt a little lower to show more of his plentiful chest hair and Geralt could hear Renfri snort.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Jaskier muttered. “By the way, guys, I swear this is not some tiny, helpless animal I’ve taped to my chest, it’s, unfortunately, all me. Right, question number three. So you wanna tell me they kicked out our feminist queen Yennefer, only to fill her place with some half-brained male… Come on, guys, there’s so many more insults than twink! Be original! I mean, you could say twat, cock, moron, idiot, milksop… Be imaginative! But back to the question. As far as I know, Yennefer wasn’t kicked out, she wasn’t forced to leave, it was her decision, and hers alone. She left the band, she wasn’t interested in coming back, they needed a new singer.”

Jaskier shrugged and took a mouthful of his drink.

“I mean… Come on, I was as shocked as you are when Geralt called me they wanted… me. Because… Yeah. I’m not a gal, that much is obvious. In fact, I was convinced that it was just a stupid joke, but no. And truth is, I guess we just… We just clicked. With the band, I mean. They’re dear hearts, all of them. Eskel, he’s a great guy, a great musician. Lambert, he’s… Yeah, Lambert’s a dick, but a dick you can’t help but like, you know? Renfri, oh, my dear darling Renfri. She’s a total sweetheart, always supportive, and if you can trust what Geralt says, she’s one of the main reasons why I ended up being in the band. And Geralt? Oh, our grumpy wolf who mainly communicates in grunts. You can never be sure what he really thinks, but he took me with him to his D&D group, he didn’t kill me during the evening, and he even saved my poor little bard’s life! That means something, guys!”

Geralt grunted and rolled his eyes. Renfri chuckled.

“Right, where was I?” Jaskier frowned. “Oh, question number… was it four or five? Never mind. Guys, do you think Geralt’s gonna sleep with this little cocksucker – see, you can be more original with your insults! – as he did with Yennefer? Oh, yeah, absolutely. Just because I’m bisexual – yes, that’s right, I swing my lute both ways – and so is Geralt, we’re definitely gonna bang.”

“Oh dear God,” Renfri whispered as Geralt groaned and closed his eyes. “He’s just outed you.”

“Question number… The last question,” Jaskier continued. “Whose cock did he have to suck to even get in? Well, everyone in the band, of course. Renfri included. We’re all here for equal opportunities, right? But I might have done Geralt twice, I admit. Just to make absolutely sure I’d get in, you know?”

He winked at the camera and finished his drink.

“But let’s get real now, guys,” he sighed. “I get it that some of you… well, most of you aren’t sure about this whole… change. To be honest, I’m not completely convinced myself. We’ve only just started rehearsing, and we’ve got a gig next week and I’ve been freaking out ever since they told me about it! But I know I already love them all, I love playing with them, and I really want to try to make it work. So I’m only asking you to give me a chance to convince you that I’m good. That I really fit in with the band, even though I love bright colors and weird music and quirky accessories and I honestly don’t think Manowar are any good...”

“Do you think he knows you hate Manowar with a burning passion?” Renfri asked.

“Shut up,” Geralt growled.

“And I gotta tell you,” Jaskier went on. “This band is just awesome for my creativity. I swear that I haven’t been this inspired for months, maybe even years. I’m already working on a new song, and I’ve got those… snippets and bits of others lying all around, see?” He lifted a piece of paper with a few lines and a drawing of a wolf on it. “And you know what? I could play you that song I’m working on, what do you think? It’s inspired by that evening Geralt took me with him to his D&D group. Wait a second.”

He jumped up, knelt on the couch and bent over the backrest. His T-shirt rode up and Geralt could clearly see the hem of bright purple underwear poke out from underneath Jaskier’s pants. He heard Renfri snort once again.

Then Jaskier straightened and promptly sat back. Geralt expected him to hold a guitar, but boy, he was wrong.

“Yeah, it’s a lute,” Jaskier grinned. “And yeah, I can totally play it. And I’m gonna play you a song about the time my darling, innocent bard met the mighty White Wolf. I start alone, like this...”

He took a deep breath and began to sing.

“When a humble bard

Graced a ride along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song

When the White Wolf fought

A silver tongued devil

His army of elves

At his hooves did they revel

They came after me

With masterful deceit

Broke down my lute

And they kicked in my teeth

While the devil's horns

Minced our tender meat

And so cried the Witcher...”

Jaskier opened the eyes he’d closed… When exactly? Geralt had no idea.

“And this is when Geralt joins in, with that mighty growl of his, going...” Jaskier scowled and changed his voice to a deep growl: “He can't be bleat!”

“That was good,” Renfri muttered. “If you ever piss us off–”

“Shut up.”

“And then,” Jaskier continued. “We sing the chorus together, and it goes like this…

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty

Oh, valley of plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty...”

Jaskier stopped playing then, and laughed.

“And that’s all I’ve got so far, I’m afraid. Consider this an exclusive preview, since you’re the very first people to hear this song. So far, I’ve only played it for the spider that lives above my fridge, and he’s even worse at giving his opinions than Geralt is. I really hope you liked this song and that I haven’t made you start hating me more than you already did. And since I’m out of my gin and tonic, let’s wrap this up, so I can go and make more. Farewell, my dearest Witcherlings. I love you all.”

Geralt kept staring at the screen for quite a few seconds after the video had ended. He would have kept staring for much longer, but Renfri decided to whistle right next to his ear.

“Wow,” she said. “That was… something.”

“Yes. Something,” Geralt muttered. “Gods above.”

“Any idea how it got posted to our page?” Renfri asked.

“I thought it was your doing,” Geralt frowned. “But no, it doesn’t make sense. You were as surprised as I was.”

“Definitely wasn’t Eskel,” Renfri continued. “He’s got trouble switching his smartphone on.”

“Lambert could have done it.”

“He would have called you first, dying of laughter.”

“Well, that only leaves… Fuck,” Geralt muttered, rising to his feet. “Cirilla! Cirilla, get up and get your ass over here, now!”

Jaskier was having quite a lovely dream. He was running through a meadow full of wildflowers, laughing, singing, the birds were chirping and bees were buzzing around him…

He scowled and scrunched up his nose.

No, it wasn’t the buzzing of the bees, it was something… something else…

He raised his head from the pillow and moaned. An angry dwarf was busily banging the inside of his skull with a tiny hammer. The room was spinning around him. And the buzzing just wouldn’t stop…

“Aw, cock,” he muttered, blindly reaching for his phone. That, that was the source of the irritating sound. He grabbed it and cracked one eye open.

Geralt. Oh, no. The video. Oh, fucking hell, no...

The phone stopped vibrating, but started again in a few seconds.

Jaskier took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hello,” he said, desperately trying to sound cheerful and not like he was about to throw up any second. “How is my favorite white wolf doing today?”

“Your favorite white wolf sincerely hopes you’ve got the worst hangover of your life, and if you happened to die from it, I wouldn’t object.”

“Ah,” Jaskier said.

“If you mean Ah, so you’ve seen it then, the answer is yes, I have.”

“Look, Geralt, I can explain...”

“Explain why you didn’t wait for me to contact Yennefer to sort this mess for us? Explain why did you send the link to the video to my daughter to share it for you?”

“Oh, I hope you weren’t mean to Ciri. She only did it because she loves me so much. And she thought it was funny.”

“I wasn’t mean to her, I’m saving that for you. By the way, do you realize you outed me?”

“I what?!” Jaskier yelled and sat up. Which was a mistake, as his stomach immediately betrayed him. He dropped his phone and sprinted to the bathroom.

“Jaskier?” Geralt said to the phone, but from the other side, he heard nothing but silence. “Jask!”

“What happened?” Renfri frowned.

“I think he may have died for real,” Geralt muttered. “Jask?”

“He’s probably just hugging the toilet very tight,” Renfri chuckled.

“He sounded like shit. I should go and check if he’s alright.”

“I think he’ll live, Geralt. He may wish he didn’t, but he will.”

“It won’t do the band any good if one of your singers dies of alcohol poisoning,” Ciri said.

“Nah. He would have already been dead,” Renfri replied.

“I’ll go and check on him,” Geralt sighed. “Ciri’s right. He’s an idiot, something could happen to him.”

“I didn’t say he was an idiot...”

“And how do you even know where he lives?” Renfri asked.

“I dropped him off after D&D. Stop it with the eyebrows, Renfri! I know the building he lives in. I have no idea what his real name is, so–”

“Pankratz,” Ciri peeped. “Julian Pankratz.”

“I’m not gonna ask how you know that,” Geralt sighed. “But thanks.”

“I could go with you,” Ciri offered.

“No way in hell, Cirilla. Renfri, will you take care of her while I’m away?”

“Yeah, sure,” Renfri shrugged.

“Excuse me, I don’t need anyone to–”

“And remember, no phone and no computer, Cirilla. I’ll be back as soon as I make sure the idiot’s gonna survive.”

“Don’t forget to change your pants!” Renfri called. “You wouldn’t want him to see you with your lap full of coffee stains!”

Geralt grunted and strode out of the living room in a way that made Renfri almost feel sorry for Jaskier.

Yeah… almost.

“Well, that was that,” Renfri smirked. “What do the comments say, by the way?”

Continue with Chapter Four

#witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #my fics #the bard and the wolf

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