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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed. 

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #king!steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader

[midnightsapphire]

Break My Heart

Masterlist ~ Hoodie (Part One)

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤 : Betrayal. An ugly feeling.

It was the only thing (Y/N) could feel after she had sworn her heart had belonged to the dreamwalker. All the promises, the shared touches, every whisper burned in the depths of her mind. She couldn’t shake the last words he had spoken to her, refusing to let him break her a second time.

Feedback is appreciated c:

A/N- a special mention to @aonungsmate who practically witnessed my insanity making this

—

I will not forget

All the wonderful things you've done

And I have no regrets

Done everything except for one

(Y/N) forced herself out of the link pod when she had known the avatar was safe, away from the prying eyes of the natives and creatures alike as she took heavy breaths to calm herself. Max had rushed to her side, practically clutching her shaking body as she collapsed into his arms.

He had known better than to make any jokes, knowing how hard she had worked, how much she had wanted this for the sake of her and Jake’s relationship. His hand rubbed languidly at her back as her shaking ceased into breathy gasps, wiping her eyes as she pulled herself away from his grip.

“Wait, we have to make sure you’re okay for the next time!” Max called out for (Y/N) as she slipped on her own coat, the warmth no longer hugging her as she glanced at the man from over her shoulder.

(Y/N) thought back, the happiness draped across Jake’s face, the firmness in his stance as he held his mate’s hand, Neytiri’s hands clasped tightly into his as they stood in front of the Tsahik, the entire Omaticaya clan. It was humiliating, how much she yearned for his affections when he practically had a life without her in it this entire time.

“Trust me. There won’t be a next time.”

It's like a test, it's like a game

To see how much I can take

I'm curious to live and learn

“What happened out there? One second she was so excited to get linked in and now she won’t even speak to us.” Max sighed as he saw Jake disconnect from his own, following the dreamwalker as he had wheeled himself through the maze of desks and equipment littered across the lab.

Jake felt his heart weigh down on his chest knowing the sweater she had cherished was back with his own avatar, clutched tightly in his embrace as he ran the entire duration of eclipse to look for her, to catch any sign that he was simply imagining what he had caused, calling out her name like his life depended on it.

Because to him, it meant that and so much more.

He saw her, faintly out of the corner of his eye dashing wildly to her lab, papers clutched to her chest. She had turned into a blur in his eyes, everything fading around him as his hands moved on their own, mouth parting to call her name as she jumped in her own skin. He had sworn his heart cracked further at the tenseness of her muscles, how she avoided even turning around to give him those large doe-eyes that he had grown to love so much.

The papers fell from her grasp as she bumped her hip against one of the tables, cursing under her breath as she reached for them, every paper haphazardly laying across the floor of the lab.

Warmth. It flooded her senses.

Only now it burned at her skin as Jake’s fingertips grazed her own as they reached for the same document strewn in between them. She had seen his wheelchair first, coming into her view before she dared to look into his eyes.

“Clumsy as ever, huh?” Jake whispered lightheartedly, craning his head to meet her eyes, almost begging for her to look at him. It had only been hours since he had accidentally stumbled upon her presence. But to him, it felt like it had been eternities. She wasn’t there to greet him, to chastise him for being so reckless, to give him water and food to ensure he was at his best.

He was more than taken aback when he saw the coldness of her gaze, how frighteningly empty her irises look when met with his own. Of course, he expected nothing less, but he noticed the spark- the light- no longer reflected in her eyes the longer he held their stare. He blinked to himself when she had ripped the papers from his grasp, his fingertips chasing her touch as he grasped her wrist, nearly falling off his wheelchair as she barely glanced at him over her shoulder.

“What did I do? Talk to me, sweetheart.” Jake nearly begged, forehead scrunched as stress lines grew on his face, his hands nearly sweating in fear as she ripped her hand from his grasp, letting him stumble to catch his balance as Max hurried to grab his shoulder. Jake’s chest caved in as his breath labored, glancing at the floor in disbelief as she pulled several chairs and boxes in his way, preventing from following her without at least some resistance.

“Go back to your mate, Sully. You don’t belong here.”

So light me up and let me burn

“The days are starting to blur together. The language is a pain but you know it’s like field-stripping a weapon. Just repetition, repetition. Neytiri calls me skxawng, it means moron-”

The video log was quickly shut off, (Y/N)’s reflection glaring back at her as she ran her hands through her hair in frustration. It was pathetic, how this was the only time she could face Jake without bursting out into tears at the sight of him. Her hands clenched against her chest, breath heaving into heavy pants as she rewinded the video log, closing her eyes as she listened to his husky voice drone on and on about his experiences.

“Don’t think too much, big guy. I can feel the steam coming off your head.” (Y/N)’s laugh rang throughout the log, her form wrapping her arms around Jake’s shoulders as she affectionately rubbed their cheeks together. The sight brought a crooked smile onto (Y/N)’s actual face, her fingertips ghosting over the holographic screen as it paused momentarily on their own smiles.

If she could have frozen that moment, she would have.

“I use this old thing more than you think, sweetheart.” Jake joked, hands reaching up to cradle her hands that were placed firmly on his chest. (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes as her hands ran themselves through what was left of his buzzed hair, pulling away slightly to look at him, the back of her fingertips brushing against his cheek.

“And what do you use it for? Certainly not for the link.”

“For you.” Jake whispered, pulling her onto his lap with a squeal leaving her lips as her arms found purchase on his shoulders, intertwining with themselves to keep her upright. Their laughter rang around the room, hands covering each other’s mouths as they tried to silence themselves, something that clearly didn’t work in their favor as kisses were placed on the palm of each other’s hands, playful bites were exchanged along the tips of their fingers, foreheads pressed together as they evened out their breaths.

“Kiss me.” Jake whispered, eyes gazing into hers as (Y/N) didn’t hesitate, molding their lips together, shifting onto his lap as she pressed their chests together. Jake’s hand aimlessly felt around, his eyes narrowing at the corner of his eyes as messily pulled away from (Y/N), her lips chasing the skin of his jaw down to his neck as he smirked, fingers hitting the button as the log faded to black.

(Y/N) met her own reflection once again, wiping off the tears that fell down her cheeks as her fingers danced along the keyboard, harshly hitting several buttons as her head fell in her hands, her shoulders shaking as loud sobs wracked her body.

File Deleted.

Tell me you've never loved me

Tell me that it wasn't real

Just say you've found somebody else

I wanna know the way it feels

“Ma’Jake, you seem too distracted.” Neytiri whispered, her hand clutching his five fingered hand tightly as he narrowly hid the IPad behind his back, his eyes softening at the woman before him she looked up at him in worry.

“I’m fine, really.” He started, but felt his shoulders droop lower at the (Y/N)’s frozen face on his lockscreen. “Actually-” Jake sighed, resting his head against Neytiri’s shoulder.

“Are we doing the right thing?” He whispered under his breath as Neytiri brushed a few stray braids away from his face, her features softening as she saw the tears building up at the base of his waterline.

“It is for the people, Ma’Jake.” She whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead before standing up from their spot on the ground before rejoining her place among the clan, greeting them respectfully.

Jake’s eyes never left the screen in his hands, almost foreign against his blue fingers as it dwarfed in size compared to his stature now. He aimlessly played another clip, the volume reverberating along the empty forest around him as he replayed the same clip over and over, his own reflection burning daggers at him as it ended once again, reminding him of how much he was a failure.

How much he failed you.

Tell me you've never loved me

Tell me it was just a lie

I wanna feel the pain

“Don’t you want to go back? It’s been days, (Y/N).” Norm pleaded, peeking his head into the room of the woman’s lab, wincing at the scattered papers, the empty trays and bags of food that littered the floor. It was horrible.

“What’s the point?” (Y/N) scoffed, brushing herself off as she peeled the sheets off from her body, fixing the makeshift bed she had made for herself in the corner of the lab as she glared holes into the fabric. Norm only rolled his eyes, pushing his way through and praying to Ewya- or any higher being, really- that she wouldn’t kill him on his way.

“You’re going. Your avatar is probably out there, starving, dehydrated. That is supposed to be your baby.” Norm scolded with a newfound confidence, dragging her out of the cramped room as she hissed at the new sudden glint of lights burned at her eyes. She followed regardless, knowing he was right.

She neglected her duties, her avatar, her own health at the expense of Jake Sully. Even the name brought distaste on her tongue as she neared the link pods. Norm ensured they stayed far away from Jake’s, now residing in the corner as (Y/N) sighed, laying back onto the gel-like bedding of the pod.

“Empty thoughts, (Y/N).”

–

(Y/N) gasped, sitting up quickly as she looked at her unfamiliar surroundings. She tested her motor skills, rolling her fingers, wrists, ankles, ensuring everything was intact before she had sat up, not yet trusting her wobbly legs. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked down at the various folded leaves surrounding her, dipping her fingers in a freshly lain one as she noticed someone had been leaving water for her.

But nobody knew where she had rested herself.

Her eyes glanced over her figure, warmth resting on her lap as she looked down, ripping the hoodie off her own body as she threw it aside, not caring where it had landed. Her skin felt disgusting, searing at the thought of Jake Sully taking care of her body, at least grateful she was hydrated, but not exactly thankful that he was the reason for it.

She shakily stood up, clutching the trunk of the tree nearest to her as she stabilized herself, making sure she was okay to walk before ducking through the several large leaves obscuring her view. Her ears twitched as she listened to the chirps of various animals, inhaling the sweet scent of the air before a twig snapping briefly caught her attention.

(Y/N) reached to her side, bringing out the pocketknife she had tucked into the pocket of her shorts for emergencies as she held it out in front of her, almost screeching when an arrow pierced the bark next to her head.

Her eyes widened as she glanced down the arrow, noting the vibrant feathers as the end as another arrow poked in between her shoulder blades. “Turn around. Demon.” A female voice hissed in her ear as (Y/N) listened, slowly putting her hands behind her head as she turned around, meeting the amber eyes of a female Na’vi she had known too well from Jake’s stories, the very reason she high-tailed and ran from the village.

Neytiri.

(Y/N) wanted to feel resentful towards the woman, wanted to feel anger, wanted to scream in her face. But nothing had come out, for (Y/N) couldn’t hate someone who had done nothing wrong except be guilty for the same thing she had been. The woman was in love, and for that she couldn’t fault her.

Neytiri faltered, recognizing the features on the woman, knowing how much Jake tried to hide his human devices, Neytiri was keen enough to catch glimpses of the woman. Though her features were more familiar on a smaller body than the dreamwalker in front of her.

“You are JakeSully’s person.” Neytiri whispered in disbelief, watching the somber look in the woman’s eyes when their eyes crossed. She watched the woman’s face drop, shaking her head as she spoke in broken Na’vi.

“No, not his. His.. you.” (Y/N) whispered, the woman’s ears perking as she tilted her head, slowly lowering the tip of her bow as Neytiri looked at her in confusion.

“He has not told you?”

I wanna see the light

“(Y/N), (Y/N), can you stop for a fucking second, please.” Jake pleaded, wrapping his arms tightly around (Y/N)’s figure, burying his nose into the crook of her neck as he tried to burn her natural scent into his mind, wishing- no, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he could experience it. His chest pressed tightly against her back, forehead moving to rest against her shoulder as she thrashed in his arms.

“Fucking let me go, Sully.”

“No. Don’t call me that, please. Call me jar-head, a moron, anything else.” Jake whispered into her skin, leaving gentle kisses as (Y/N) finally stopped resisting his touch, faintly feeling the weight of her head lean against his.

“Neytiri-”

“Neytiri nothing, sweetheart. The sky people- our people.. They’ll kill the entire village. I thought.. giving myself to the Na’vi would make them stop- would keep them away for as long as I could knowing I was still here, until I could actually prepare myself and them. I was wrong, baby I was so wrong.” Jake pleaded, his arms tightening around her as he kissed at the skin trailing up her neck, burying his nose into her cheek as he felt the stickiness of tears, no longer knowing if they were hers or his own.

“That was a stupid reason, even you know that Jake. You lied to me. You-You mated with her.”

“For show, (Y/N). How are the RDA supposed to know the difference? I swear to you.” Jake spoke desperately, circling around the woman as he held her hands tightly against his, angling his amber eyes to meet his own as he held their intertwined hands against his chest.

“My heart, it beats for you and only you. I can’t.. I can’t imagine myself being with anyone but you, sweetheart. You’re the air I breathe, the first and last thought in my mind every waking second. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, I’m sorry I was such a fucking idiot that I didn’t show you- didn’t treat you like i should have.” He whispered, bringing their hands towards his lips as he laid soft kisses along her fingertips.

“But I see you, sweetheart. I love you.” He confessed, his heart hammering in his chest as (Y/N) craned her head to glance up into his pleading eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

Break my heart

---

Taglist : @cleverzonkwombatsludge ; @whenercolorfulrainbowlol ; @arminsgfloll ; @ellabellabus07​ ; @jakesullysupporter​ ; @kitkat1690​ ; @fanboyluvr​ ; @an0th3rsss​ ; @sweetllamaparadise​ ; @netherklutz​ ; @bewbz2110​ ; @ohshititsfenharel​ ; @hot15936​ ; @perfectprofessorloverapricot​ ; @bucky12345 ; @ki-h06 ; @perseny​ ; @itssomeonereading ;

Crossed out means it didn’t let me tag :c

#jake sully #jake sully imagine #jake sully imagines #jake sully x reader #jake x reader #neteyam imagines #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam imagine #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak imagines #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #avatar way of water imagines #awow imagine #awow imagines #awow angst #avatar angst #awow blurb #jake sully angst #fic recs #avatar fic #avatar fic recs #awow fic #awow fic recs

[cheeseceli]

Right hand, left hand

Pairing: San × Gn!Reader

Genre: fluff, implied established relationship, a very failed attempt of humour

Request: Okay but do you think San would learn to be ambidextrous in school if he had a crush on someone he sat next to all the time because he wanted to hold her hand while they work?? I do. - 🌙

Warnings: reader is right handed; both San and reader go to school/university/classes; featuring seonghwa and honjoong

A/n: I loved this concept so much but I can't tell if I like the results 😭 hope you enjoy this tho!

‌San hates that he is right handed

‌He also hates that you are right handed

‌Because no matter where he sits in class, he can't hold your hand

‌If he sits by your left side, he won't be able to keep up with class if he gives up on writing just to hold your hand

‌If he sits by your right side, you are the one who would need to give up on writing

‌Of course he could sit in front or behind you

‌But then he wouldn't be able to look at you with so much ease

‌And as much as he believes that holding your hand is more important than any possible class, his grades would soon disagree

‌That's how Seonghwa and Hongjoong ended up in their current situation

"This is still illegible, San" Seonghwa says after handing back the paper San used to practice his calligraphy as the youngest sighed.

‌His plan was to become ambidextrous

‌Just so he could hold your hand and take notes at the same time. However, it wasn't as simple as it looked

‌He would try to find those "I became ambidextrous in 30 days" except he'd try to replicate it in a weekend

‌Sorry but he cannot wait a whole month to hold your hand

‌When it doesn't work he is like :(

‌Refuses to to let Seonghwa and Hongjoong go until he gets it right

‌Hongjoong is still a bit confused as to why they are even there when everything they do is tell San that it's impossible to read a single thing he's written in the past hour

‌But he got the spirit

"This looks kinda good actually" Hongjoong comments when San hands him another sheet of practice

"For real?" the youngest asks with shiny eyes and Hongjoong almost feels bad for lying. Almost

"Yeah. Keep it like that and I think it will be perfect by Monday"

Seonghwa wanted to say something, clearly questioning his friend's judgement, but he was soon silenced by Hongjoong: "so, can we go now?"

‌San just nodded, too focused on practicing more now that he (thought he) was getting better at it

‌It didn't take more than two seconds for both Seonghwa and Hongjoong to get out of the room, finally breathing after being in there for more than four hours

‌When Monday comes and you see San writing with his left hand, you're confused

‌And you wonder how he'll manage to read those messy notes later

‌But he's so happy holding your hand that you don't even question it

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Feedback is always appreciated <3

#this is kinda cute now that I'm rereading it #anon - 🌙 #celi headcanons #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez soft hours #ateez headcanon #ateez scenarios #ateez soft thoughts #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #ateez x reader #san #choi san #ateez san #san fluff #san x reader #san scenarios #san soft thoughts #san headcanons

[its-time-to-write]

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a little something about Jamie being your guest to a wedding?? Just something sweet and fluffy because I feel like he’d be a spectacular wedding date. Love you!!

Here you go! Haven’t been able to write as much this week, I had finals and in between tests and papers, I’ve been pretty much living at the doctor’s. My brain is feeling a little fried, so I hope this is a coherent fic because I’ve tried to proofread a bunch and it all just looks like squiggles to me, so… anon, if you read this, send me your honest feedback in my inbox. Love ya!🍊💚

i’m glad you exist

“What’s this?” Jamie asks from his position on your kitchen island. 

You glance up from the stove. “What’s what?” 

He holds up an envelope rimmed in gold. 

“Oh, that’s an invite to my old roommate’s wedding. Remember I told you about her? Calls everyone ‘queen?’”

Jamie’s face shows recognition. “Right, yeah, she the one dating that motivational speaker?”

You laugh. “Yeah, they got together a month after I met her. He lived one floor down. Anyway, their wedding’s in a few months so I left the invitation out so I’d remember to RSVP.”

Jamie’s engrossed in the details on the invitation. “Says you can bring a plus one.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “probably won’t though. It’s back home, so, it’s not just a weekend-type deal. My mom and dad want me to come stay for like a week and a half.” You turn back to the stove and narrowly avoid burning the food. “You like your dinner a little crispy, right?”

“Babe,” Jamie says slowly, “you stayin’ with your parents?”

“Nah,” you say, transferring the food onto plates, “too crowded. And loud. My mom always has all the grandkids over all the time.” Your older sister has two kids, and your older brother has three. “She offered, but I told her I’d just get an AirBnB or something.”

“Y’know,” he says, taking the plates and moving to the table, “it’s on the off season. Don’t have any branding deals that week either.”

“Jamie,” you begin, a smile beginning to spread across your face, “are you offering to go to this wedding with me? And meet my parents?”

Jamie shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You are!” you say gleefully, “Oh my god, my mom is going to lose her mind. You know she absolutely loves you, right? She talks about their trip out here all the time. And this time you can meet my whole family, like my sister and her husband, they’re definitely my favorite because my niece and I have the same middle name. Plus my brother is always busy with work and his wife is cool, I guess, but we don’t have a lot in common? Except one time we watched High School Musical together, and she knew all the dances and all the words! It was crazy. And we’ll definitely have to go to the beach, do you know how to surf-?”

You ramble on happily as Jamie just grins at you, digging into his food. 

—

It’s wedding week, and your dad picks you up from the airport. You and Jamie are on your way to your parents’ house before checking into your own house and you’re confident that most of your family is going to be there. Your parents are the only ones who have met Jamie in person, and right now your dad and Jamie are in the front of the car chatting on about who knows what. You just know you’re tired, and you’re grateful that your dad picked you up a coffee. You’re probably going to steal Jamie’s too, because he does not need more energy and yours is gone way too quick. It’s nice to be home. The sun is shining, and the streets are familiar. You’re looking forward to seeing your old friends, and showing off your gorgeous footballer boyfriend.

They’d all heard about him of course, and were more than thrilled that you had finally found someone who actually liked being around you. That sounds terrible. You’re not annoying. You just have a habit of being with men who see you as a chore, not for the wonderful person you are. The person Jamie sees you to be.

You’re pulling into the driveway, and just as you suspected, the entire family is there. You notice your brother’s Range Rover and your sister’s Jeep. You smile to yourself. How very like them.

You hop out of the car, grab Jamie’s hand, and the door is open before you even make it all the way up to it. Your mom’s arms are open for a hug which you reach for except she turns away at the last moment and hugs Jamie first?

“Mom!” you say, laughing, “I’m your literal daughter and I haven’t seen you in forever!”

She smiles and pinches Jamie’s cheek. “I’ve spent more time with you than with him. You’ll survive.”

She wraps you in a warm hug then says, “Come meet the family, Jamie! And you’re staying for dinner. You can get to your house after you’ve taken a break.”

You shake your head and Jamie just grins. Poor boy has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

—

Jamie was thoroughly interrogated by your family, including your nieces and nephews (“Why do you call it football instead of soccer? Did you bring us candy?”). You’re both so exhausted that as soon as you walk through the door of your AirBnB, you collapse onto the bed, fully clothed.

—

It’s the day of the wedding, and you’re stressed. You’d been fine until the exact moment that you and Jamie began walking up to the venue. Everything is fine, you’re walking hand-in-hand, but then you just stop. 

“Jamie,” you say, tugging on his hand, “Jamie I can’t do this.”

He turns to you in surprise. “What d’you mean you can’t do this?” 

“I mean, it’s a lot of people I haven’t seen in forever and I don’t know, I’m just freaking out.”

Jamie laughs of all things. “Babe, it’s all right. Look, you’re with me, yeah? And I’m fucking amazin’. And you’re fucking amazin’. So whatever you’re worried about, ain’t a problem.”

Sometimes you forget how cocky Jamie can be. And how much it can boost your confidence. 

You blow out a breath. “Thanks babe. You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

—

It was more than fine. Like, way more than fine. Your friend looked lovely, and she was overjoyed to see you, and Jamie was the absolute best. He befriended your entire table and insisted you dance with him for every song. He was weirdly good at it, too. 

“It’s all in the hips, babe,” he said.

It definitely was.

Your favorite part, though, is the last dance. 

It’s a slow song, and the only people left were couples. The bride and groom had left, sneaked out a back door because she hated send-offs, so everything was winding down. 

Jamie has your hands in his, and brings them to loop around his neck.

“You alright?” he whispers. You nod. “Good,” he says, voice still low. “Wanted to make sure you had a good time. I fucking love weddings. The dancing, the food… you.” He grins and you smile back. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Not sure I mentioned it earlier.”

You’re blushing now, swaying to the music as his hands circle your waist.

You say, “Thanks for coming with me, Jaim. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun without you.”

Your hands are on the sides of his face now, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

You lean up to kiss him and right before you do he whispers, “Gonna be us someday, yeah?”

You forget how to breathe for a moment, opting to nod instead.

Jamie smiles, and leans down to finish what you started. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[flowerui]

♫ we both like apple cider, pgw

fluff & light angst, 4.1k words ୨୧ first fic on this blog! feedback is appreciated!! ^_^ i've had awful writer's block for MONTHS so i hope i havent gotten too rusty,,,

wherein dancing is your favorite way to destress, until a certain gunwook park goes and spoils it all.

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is a year older than gw, dancer reader, bff hanbin, one-sided enemies to friends to lovers, college au, misunderstandings, set in the us, does this count as forced proximity? light angst, fluff (it gets so cheesy idk what happened to me), drinking/underage drinking ꒱

Dancing had always been your favorite way to unwind. After a long day of classes, practice is like a treat; the mental toll of having to listen to your professors drone on all day, and procrastinating assignments until the night they’re due is easily unraveled by dancing until you can’t feel your limbs—it’s unmatched.

That’s why, despite it being Wednesday (the second worst day of the week), you walk out of your last class with a skip in your step, like nothing could ruin your day.

Nothing except a man named Hanbin, that is.

After changing, you enter the practice room, ready to forget your worries. But before you can begin, you see a paper stuck on the wall beside the door—Hanbin must’ve finally put together the choreo for the solo and duet performances for an upcoming recital for some event on campus (truthfully, you can't be bothered to remember all the details, that's Hanbin's job), and decided on who’d best fit the roles. You’re a little late, so it’s just you who curiously shuffles over to take a look.

Seeing your name under Duet makes you smile until you read your counterpart's name. Gunwook Park.

You find a spot to sink to the floor in the back of the room. Suddenly, you’ve changed your perspective on dancing; it’s the worst thing to happen to you. You regret ever discovering this useless passion of yours, who even needs passions in this economy?!

Hanbin would tell you otherwise, but you believe that you have pretty good ideas.

You’d tried to take an easier route and complain to Hanbin that you absolutely could not work with Gunwook for a duet. But he was adamant about not making any alterations at this point, at least not just because you don’t like Gunwook—what a traitor, what happened to friendship?

Since complaining about your unfair working conditions did fuck all, you came up with a wonderful solution. You get paired with the number one person on your shit list? Just don’t show up to rehearsals. Boom, problem solved. Though it’s easier said than done; you’re a creature of habit, and the disappointment of remembering you can’t destress with dance is depressing.

And, of course, avoiding both Hanbin and Gunwook is a chore.

It’s on day four that you consider, maybe Hanbin is right sometimes. You were only successful in avoiding everything except schoolwork because college kicks everyone’s ass, and finding free time starts to feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But, maybe ditching practice when you live with the leader of your dance team wasn’t your best idea. On Sundays, both you and Hanbin usually end up being home at the same time.

And like an idiot, you forget this detail and trudge out of your room at two in the afternoon (no, you certainly did not just wake up, thank you very much) to find something acceptable to eat.

As you’re rummaging through the pantry, you hear your name called in that tone. The one where Hanbin’s voice sounds mildly shrill and a bit patronizing, the one that lets you know you’re in trouble.

Yeah, not your brightest idea—it might take over the number two spot of your top three worst ideas, followed by trying to gaslight a random group of people into believing that Play-doh is edible after you’d had a drink too many at your first college party at number one. (To be fair, you did not expect a twenty-something-year-old man to have Play-Doh on hand and tell you to prove it. Yes, you tried. You vomited on the guy’s shoes.)

Rigidly, you slowly turn to face Hanbin, who has a terse smile on his face.

“...Yes?”

“I thought maybe you hadn’t shown up to rehearsals because you weren’t feeling well, but yesterday, Gunwook told me every time he spotted you on campus, you naruto-ran away.”

“Uh,” you fake cough into your elbow, “Must’ve been someone that looks like me? ‘Cause I have been feeling kind of under the we—”

You shriek and make a run for it when Hanbin stomps over with that creepy hamster puppet you’d given him as a gag gift last year in hand. Eventually, you get cornered and get a creepy hamster puppet thrown in your face. “You can’t just ditch practice because you have some petty one-sided rivalry—or whatever it is—with Gunwook. You’re risking embarrassing the whole team! What are you planning to do, just not learn the choreography?”

“You know it's not a rivalry...” You grumble.

“You’re being childish,” Hanbin sighs, “I’ve already told you that whatever your deal is with Gunwook is some misunderstanding, he’s a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You huff, probably not helping the childish accusation. You’re tired of hearing that about what a good guy Gunwook appears to be because you know what you heard.

Without another word, you stomp off to your room.

If you had any hopes of getting out of going to rehearsal again, they’re promptly stomped on by Hanbin waiting outside of your class when you trudge out.

“Really?” You groan, and walk over to your supposed friend, “You don’t need to escort me.”

“I think I do,” Hanbin crosses his arms, fixing you with a look, like he knows you better than yourself… okay, he does ninety percent of the time, but that doesn’t mean he can act like it. “I’m pretty sure I saw you ready to head in the wrong direction before you saw me.” He says before grabbing your arm and pulling you down the hall.

“I don’t even get what your deal is with Gunwook,” Hanbin finally says when you’re about halfway to the studio, “I know you said you heard him say something… unsavory, but that just doesn’t sound like him at all. I think you should talk to him, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

“I know what I heard, Bin…”

“I’m not saying you didn’t hear what you heard, but maybe there’s some missing context.”

You try to consider Hanbin’s words, even as you absentmindedly head into the changing rooms, and reluctantly shuffle into the practice room afterward, you truly do. 

But all the rational thinking and breathing techniques in the world cannot quell your ire when you see Gunwook. Calmly walking over and refraining from saying anything uncouth is a true test of mental strength—one that you are quite afraid of failing.

“Hey—” Gunwook rises from his spot in the corner of the practice room to greet you.

“Let’s get started.” You blurt out, aware of how cold and biting your dismissal comes off. To be fair, Hanbin didn’t tell you to be particularly nice, he just insisted you show up.

“Oh, right,” Gunwook’s expression wilts, but he clears his throat and plasters a polite smile on his face. “I’m sure Hanbin already let you know he wouldn’t be here to help us out today—he’s helping Natty with her solo. I’ve got the choreo down, so I should be able to guide you if needed.”

“I practiced at home.”  You did. A little bit, it wasn’t easy with the limited space in your cramped—ahem, homey apartment. But practicing a duet by yourself, then giving up after stubbing your toe on every fucking piece of furniture in your home, and practicing it with your duet partner are two different things.

“Oh, that’s good… um, I’ll start the music.”

Your name is followed by an exasperated sigh. With reluctance—because your phone’s home screen is just that interesting—you glance up from your phone, to see Gunwook eyeing you through the mirror. 

“Could we try to get through the routine? Maybe without you scratching me this time?” Gunwook gnaws at his bottom lip, sweat beading at his temple. He’s actually been hard at work, practicing while you sat in the corner of the room—essentially sentenced to a time-out after accidentally scratching Gunwook every time you tried to run through the routine with him. Accidentally.

You can’t help the frown that sets on your lips. Only to you, it seems, Gunwook Park is an enigma. When he first joined the team, he seemed nice, and he wasn’t much younger than you, you just never got the chance to properly talk to him. However, now you never want to speak to him, the fact that you have to work so closely with him is nauseating.

Tampering down all the ugly word vomit bubbling in your throat, you mentally repeat Hanbin’s words from yesterday to yourself, ‘You’re risking embarrassing the whole team’. Not only do you find most of your teammates to be more than bearable, but you also you can’t bomb a performance because you were too petty to practice the choreography, so, even though the thought of being so close to Gunwook—having to touch him makes you full body cringe, you suck it up.

“Sure.”

Begrudgingly, you get into position and wait for your cue. As the music starts up for what feels like the billionth time that evening, you miss the many nervous glances cast your way.

Succeedingly, you manage to not cause any more bodily harm, even when you have no choice but to get close enough to Gunwook to the point you cannot look anywhere but into his eyes. The urge to flee strikes, as unease among other odd emotions you will not address churn in your gut, but you deal with it (read: ignore it).

You manage to run through the routine once, then again, and again, and again, until your limbs feel like gelatin and you have no option but to sprawl out on the floor. It occurs to you how much you missed this feeling, you can barely believe you let your pettiness get in the way of it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Turning your head to the side, there’s Gunwook, also sprawled out beside you. Huh, you don’t even have the negative energy within you to loathe his presence in the moment.

“You just did. But you can ask one more thing.”

A goofy grin splits Gunwook’s lips before he turns his head back to face the ceiling, expression shifting a little more seriously. “Did I… was there something that I like did? Or said to upset you?”

Oh. Right. So, you haven’t forgotten your distaste for Gunwook. You feel your good mood sour, as you scoff, and force yourself to finally sit up—your limbs are very much protesting, screaming at you, matter of fact, but fuck them. And fuck Gunwook Park. “Seriously?”

You glance over your shoulder, Gunwook, who sat up shortly after you, only blinks at you curiously, as though he hasn’t got a clue.

“You really don’t know? Do you just talk shit about everyone and that’s why you can’t seem to remember me?”

“What…?” Gunwook’s brows furrow, “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you." You push yourself up off the ground, fixing Gunwook with an exasperated look, "After our performance at orientation in August, you had a lot to say about my skill, and how ridiculous I looked.”

“I don't…?” You watch as the confusion and then the recognition passes over Gunwook’s features, “No, I—shit,” he hangs his head with a groan, which doesn’t serve to dissipate any of your arising confusion. “That wasn’t about you.”

“I heard you say my name, don’t bullshit me.”

“I—okay, I definitely said your name, but it seriously wasn’t about you. There was this, um, character in a film my roommate watched for some project; they were supposed to be a dancer, but they were godawful. I was talking about the character, and I didn’t even think about how they had the same name as you, or about how loudly I was talking about that.”

“Oh,” you say, rather intelligently. You consider the thought that he could be lying, but he looks at you with such earnestness, remorse practically pooling in his eyes, you can’t even entertain the thought for more than a moment.

“Yeah, oh. I’m sorry you thought I was talking about you…”

“No, I’m sorry,” you quietly sit back down, anger gone as quick as it arose, and flop back on the floor with a sigh. Having your entire view of Gunwook Park debunked in a mere minute was not on tonight’s bingo card.

“I should’ve—Hanbin kept telling me it was probably a misunderstanding and to confront you, but I just stewed in my misguided hatred. God, Hanbin’s going to be insufferable once I tell him he was right all along.”

Gunwook huffs a laugh, “I’m glad we sorted this out, finally. Um, I guess we should wrap up for tonight since it’s getting late. Can I walk you home?”

“Don’t you live on campus? You don’t have to walk me home if you just have to walk back here…”

“It’s fine!” Gunwook smiles, oddly enthusiastic. Weird, personally, you dread having to walk home after practice. “I want to, and I guess now we can get to know each other? Now that you don’t hate me.”

“Yeah… okay, I’ll grab my stuff.” You sit back up again, as much as you’d like to become one with the floor.

“Okay, cool.”

“Cool.” you can’t help but smile, seeing the wide grin on Gunwook’s face. You’re going to choose to believe the warmth in your cheeks is because you’re still cooling off from rehearsing.

The idea of rehearsing is a lot more palatable now that you don’t despise your duet partner. The actual rehearsals aren’t too bad either… they’re actually kind of enjoyable.

Hanbin was, in fact, very insufferable when you spilled everything that’d happened that day to him. He’d been waiting up for you, sitting on the armchair in your living room, and nearly gave you a heart attack when he flicked on the lamp beside him; like he was your mother and he’d caught you sneaking back in the house.

“Hey, how was class?” Gunwook has taken to waiting for you outside your classes on rehearsal days, you even say hi to each other when you see the other on campus, and maybe talk if you’re not busy.

“Don’t get me started…” you groan, “I have no idea what my professor was on about today, but I thought his jaw was going to unhinge before he finally stopped talking.”

Gunwook chuckles, and grabs your bag from you, cradling it to his chest. “I thought I told you I could carry my bag myself?”

“And I told you that you could try to take it back.” 

You did try, and you decided you do not like freakishly strong guys. “Whatever… what about you? How was your class?”

“Didn’t go today…” Gunwook trails off, glancing down at your linked arms. A habit after losing Hanbin in crowds one too many times. It feels nice with Gunwook, though. “Um, my roommate—” he clears his throat before he continues looking forward, revealing his red ears. Oh, that’s cute.

“He kept me up late ‘cause he needed help with his film project that he’s been procrastinating. I ended up waking up at like one-thirty…”

“Really? So, you just came straight here after waking up?” You tsk, choosing to look away from his pouted lips for your sake. “Did you even eat? Let’s stop by this café a few blocks away before we rehearse. It opened last month, Hanbin and I were supposed to check it out, but I think he forgot.”

You’re not blind, of course, Gunwook is, well, objectively attractive (subjectively as well, perchance). With much coaxing, you might’ve been able to admit it a week ago when you hated him. But, his attractiveness is far too illuminated when you’re a mere inches from his face; faced with his distractingly pretty brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. Oh God, he’s cute. He’s so fucking cute, and you are so fucking screwed.

Before you can say something so embarrassing you’d have to migrate to another country and assume another identity, you take the initiative to part from Gunwook, carefully backing away, and clearing your throat, “Should we take a break?”

Except that doesn’t even help, because when you sink to the floor to watch YouTube, Gunwook is beside you, smushed at your side to watch whatever you’re watching. You can’t even remember what video you tapped on, but apparently, you’re seven minutes into a video when Gunwook reaches over to pause it.

“Hey, um, one of my friends—his name’s Junhyeon, his frat, Zeta Rho Xi is having a party this weekend. He kinda roped me into going, and I was just wondering if you were free…? I would, um, it’d be cool if you could stop by.”

Parties haven’t been your thing for a long time; you tried to party freshman year, since people seemed to go on about the college parties. You just couldn’t get super into it, plus only things like the Play-Doh incident came from parties… and that’s why you’re not sure why you say, “Yeah, no, I should be free. I’ll check it out.”

You aren't even free, you have an essay you’ve written approximately two sentences for that happens to be due Monday. But the smile on Gunwook’s face makes agreeing feel like the right choice.

Immediately upon stepping inside, you remember why you hate parties. One, you lose Hanbin instantly. Two, trying to push through a bunch of sweaty, drunk people (who are surprisingly sturdy) is a pain in the ass. And three, it’s loud, you already feel like you need a drink. Or maybe three.

You manage to make it to a mostly empty kitchen, and at that point, you’ve lost any motivation to go search for Hanbin or even Gunwook. For the most part, you’ve given up caring about being ‘lame’, so, you’re perfectly content sitting in the kitchen on your phone at a party while sipping on possibly the worst quality beer you’ve tasted in your twenty years of life.

It’s maybe thirty minutes until you finally look up from your phone at the call of your name over the ear-damaging volume of music.

Hanbin stumbles into the kitchen, using Gunwook as support. You can make out your friend’s flushed cheeks, even in the dim lighting, you have no idea how he’s gotten drunk so fast. “There you are! I found Gunwookie, it looked like he was waitin’ around for you, ‘cause he was just in a corner lookin’ around… didn’t you guys exchange numbers?”

“I already told you I forgot to ask…” Gunwook mumbles.

“Oh,” Hanbin lets go of Gunwook to slide up beside you, “Hey, did you know that, um—” Gunwook rushes over to slap a hand over Hanbin’s mouth, are they both drunk? It’s more difficult to tell with Gunwook, his cheeks always look pink…

Hanbin removes Gunwook’s hand with a glare, “Don’t interrupt me,” he chides, as sternly as he can while drunk. “Anyway, ‘m so glad you two figured things out. I hope Gunwook tells you about his massive heart boner for you.”

Hanbin makes it probably ten times worse by continuing, “He’s—he’s had such a big crush on you since like, um, since like the millisecond he joined the team. But this whole time you thought he was mean to you, isn’t that silly?”

What isn’t silly is the look on Gunwook’s face, he looks positively mortified.

“...Okay, Bin, I think you’re ready to go home already,” you smile tersely, side-stepping the topic for now, maybe forever actually. “Gunwook, can you help me with him?” You ignore Hanbin’s slurred protests. It must take a moment for Gunwook to recoup before he’s at Hanbin’s other side, helping you pull the drunkard up.

You avoid looking in Gunwook’s direction, despite the fact you can feel him burning holes into the side of your head. Of course, there’s no avoiding the conversation—inevitably, you’re going to have to talk to Gunwook about what Hanbin said, but maybe you can get out of it tonight…?

It’s not that you’re particularly afraid… okay, well, you are, except it’s just unnecessary anxiety. Now you feel better about admitting to yourself that you’re interested in Gunwook. But what if Hanbin’s drunk rambling was just drunk rambling, and it was all nonsense? Well, Gunwook probably wouldn’t seem so nervous if that were the case, but maybe he’s nervous because he just doesn’t want you to be under the impression that he—

“Oh, hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for Hanbin…”

“Oh, Hao, hey.” you mentally thank Hao for unknowingly rescuing you from spiraling into your annoyingly irrational train of thought.

“Do you want me to take him off your hands? We were planning to ditch before he disappeared.”

Okay, time to put on your big person pants and be an adult. “Yeah, thanks.” Handing Hanbin off is pretty easy, the man completely unbothered that he’s thrown two of his protégés for a loop (he’ll probably feel a lot worse about it tomorrow, especially when he’s hungover). What’s less easy, is being left with Gunwook.

“Well, since Hanbin aired everything out…”

“Right, yeah. We should talk, maybe outside?”

Gunwook nods, leading the way to the back door, you follow closely behind him. As not to lose him in the clusters of people, and maybe just because you want to, you grab onto his arm.

Outside, your eardrums thank you for finally getting out of there, though your nervous heart is another story, rattling against your ribcage incessantly. Warily, you avoid looking at Gunwook, distancing yourself a good few feet away from him, “So…”

“I like you,” Gunwook blurts as if he won’t get another chance to say so, “like a lot. I initially joined the team ‘cause of you actually, I hadn’t even danced since middle school. But you were so—watching you on stage at orientation felt so… enchanting.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at Gunwook’s flattery, and he only continues, “I thought you were perfect, so obviously I immediately signed up for the dance team, even though I wasn’t even sure if I was any good at it anymore, just so I could have an excuse to see you. Only for me to never gain the courage to even talk to you…” Staring at the wooden planks of the porch beneath your feet, you see Gunwook’s beaten-up Converse come into view, urging you to look up again.

“Gunwook, I—”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel anything like that for me, I just can’t let the what-ifs get in the way of me trying anymore.” Oh, how could you not feel something for him? Surely anyone could fall for him just by staring into his pretty brown eyes.

The weird feeling in your gut, which must be those butterflies people talk about, amplifies, you think you’d have to be a fool if you didn’t feel something for Gunwook Park. “I don’t… not feel something,” you hastily avert your gaze, “I guess I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I am interested in you. I, um, would be open to exploring that.”

“I understand—wait, you… really?”

You look up in time to see the overjoyed grin split Gunwook’s lips. It’s infectious, you can’t help but mirror his smile, laugh tumbling past your lips, “Yes, you dork. You better sweep me off my feet.”  You playfully shove at his shoulder.

“I will,” Gunwook grabs your wrist before you drop your arm, thumbing at the inside of it, “are you free tomorrow?”

“I…” You aren’t free, remember that pesky essay of yours? “Yeah, I am.” Oh, well, you suppose it can wait; likely until tomorrow night, when you finally open your laptop at eleven-thirty at night, when it happens to be due at midnight. You happen to work great under pressure!

“Perfect, can I pick you up at your place at two?”

“Sure, are you gonna remember to ask for my number this time, though?” You tease, making a ‘give me’ motion with your free hand.

Gunwook’s cheeks somehow get pinker, as he finally lets go of your wrist and retrieves his phone from his pocket, handing it over with the new contact screen open. Quickly, you type in your number and then your name, cheekily adding a heart beside it.

“Can I walk you home? Or, uh, if you wanted to go back to the party, that’s fine too…”

“Nah,” you’d rather do just about anything else than go back into that mess, you’ve had enough parties for the rest of your college life, “I’m pretty tired, and I have a super important date with a great guy tomorrow.”

With a coy smile to match Gunwook’s shy one, you cozy up to his side and link arms with him, “Let’s go?”

You’d still consider dancing to be a great way to unwind—still one of your favorites, it's just been demoted to second place.

Nothing ebbs away your stress like Gunwook popping into your room with your favorite food after you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for hours as if you were hoping your assignments would finish themselves. Or his hugs—always so warm, it’s like hugging an oversized stuffed bear. Or just… him.

Unrivaled after several years, dancing has finally met its match: Gunwook Park.

#꒰ 📞 ꒱ new message! #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #gunwook x reader #park gunwook x reader #gender neutral reader #kpop x gender neutral reader #kpop x reader #x gender neutral reader #mild angst #fluff #kpop fluff #kpop angst #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone fluff #gunwook fluff #gunwook angst #zb1 x you #gn reader #x gn reader #kpop x you #zb1 gunwook #zerobaseone gunwook #light angst

[mrs-prentiss]

Secret Crush

Summary : Melissa has a secret crush on a new teacher at Abbott…without telling them she subtly invites them to a wine and dine dinner

Warnings : This is my first ever fanfiction, positive feedback is welcome pleaseee give me some! I tried to use all inclusive pronouns but i mightve slipped up doing she/her as i usually roleplay she/her so forgive me

Melissa Schemmenti had been a dedicated educator for many years, and she loved her job more than anything in the world. She was passionate and a fiery woman, no pun intended to her hair. Every day, she would arrive at Abboy Elementary with the same plan to bond with little to no one except Barbara herself…seemingly the only woman she tolerated in the school. It was changed strangely enough when One day, a new teacher arrived at Abboy Elementary, and Melissa was immediately smitten. Their name was y/n y/ln, and they where just stunning truly eye grabbing to. Melissa couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach every time she saw them in the hallway. At first, Melissa tried to ignore her feelings after all she hated new people they never lasted, and especially one as unbelievably perky and out going as y/n. Not to mention, she was a professional, and she didn't want to risk her career or her reputation by getting involved with a colleague.

But as the weeks went by, Melissa found herself thinking about Teacher y/ln more and more. The days flew by quickly and before Melissa and y/n knew it they barely forward paths exchanging simple words or none at all, the words they did exchange where short ones like Hello, and how are you. As Melissa was grading papers in the teachers' lounge, y/n came in and asked if they could borrow a pen. It was awkward as y/n had no clue what to say besides stand their weirdly fidgeting with their hands “Um.. Melissa sorry to bother you. One of the kids took the last of my pens and i need one to grade papers. Can i borrow one?”they leaned over the table with a hopeful smile, Melissa's heart skipped a beat hearing the familiar voice she’d grown to spot in a crowd. She looked up at you, and your eyes met for a moment.

Suddenly, Melissa knew that she couldn't ignore her feelings any longer.. she pushed a seat out and nodded for you to sit beside her. “Come on take a seat hun” sliding a pen and a container of branzino over to you she smiled slightly. She had to tell you how she felt but she never knew if you’d feel the same. She took a deep breath and said, "You free tonight? Come over i’ll cook we can uh- grade papers. Do a whole proper new kid welcoming thing?” she had every intention of doing things other then grading papers. She also was sure you’d decline the offer but yo Melissa's surprise you smiled and said, "I thought you’d never ask schemmenti, i’ll bring wine"

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (pt.1)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way...

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

word count: 3.7k

tw: mentions of cheating (but not the MCs)

note: due to the popular demand (thank you whoever started this and @wingsofanillyrian for telling me to drop this down), here goes a Martin Ødegaard two-shot because he deserves this and we all deserve this. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn A CENTURY AGO so this is ofc not proof-read. oh, and feedbacks are always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“Good morning, Granit! Good morning, Martin!”

While the Albanian-descendant reciprocated her greeting, the Norwegian only recognised her presence by throwing a nonchalant sideway look at her, followed by a deep sigh, before continuing his way to the interior part of London Colney.

No words exchanged, as usual.

“Don’t mind the lad, Eve,” Granit must’ve sensed her—daily, by now—disappointment. It had been more than a year since she first started this fantastic job at Arsenal, yet the creative midfielder hadn’t even spared her a full glance all this while, bar the first time he signed the contract. “It always takes a while for him to start his engine in the morning.”

“It’s just…” Eve sighed, unable to hold the pout from showing up on her lips. She only had good intentions; she loves the club and the players who played for the badge, greeting them was simply her way of expressing gratitude towards them. “I wonder what I’d done wrong…”

Granit threw her a sympathetic look as he signed some papers for his packages. “Oh, honey… don’t we all wonder the same?”

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As soon as Martin stepped into London Colney building that one, particular morning, he immediately sensed something was off before he could put a finger on it.

At first, he thought he was only imagining things but later, as he saw Louisa running back and forth to every side of the building as if she’d catch fire on her arse if she didn’t, he realised something had gone terribly off the mark.

Tracking back, only then he noticed everything had gone wrong from the first moment his feet landed on his club’s training centre. No citrus scent poking its way to his nose and certainly no bright-as-fuck ‘good morning’ greeted him right after. No heels clicking throughout the hallway at this hour and was instead replaced by Louisa’s trainers screeching against the wooden floor as the junior receptionist ran, trying very hard to fill in her counterpart’s unusually immaculate pace on getting the delivery job done.

Not that he minded Eve’s absence—he actually longed for the day it came—but it had been a year or so and she never failed to greet everyone with her chirpy voice and a blazing smile the first thing everyone walked into the facility. It was only natural everyone thought that was naturally her friendly personality.

Well, except him, of course.

Martin simply thought she was impossible. How could someone be all sunshine blazing at full watt, not only every morning but throughout the day as well? One couldn’t be that happy at every moment in her life.

His take was it was either she wanted everyone in Colney to like her or it was her façade to hide her true personality. Either way, he didn’t like any kind of fake person and he’d appreciate it if one day he could prove his theory true.

“Ah, fuck me,” Suddenly a Scottish accent boomed throughout the gym, signaling the club’s resident DJ, Kieran Tierney, had graced the facility his presence. “Lou messed up my stuffs, mate.”

“Yeah, she did mine, too,” Martin always wondered how Kieran and Rob could compliment each other so well when one was always angry all the time and the other was super happy-go-lucky kind of guy. “No offense to Lou, but I swear I need Eve back asap.”

Kieran sighed at the reality as he played the opening song for the day.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

A week passed by and London Colney was still missing its beloved front desk. Louisa was visibly struggling more and more each day to complete a job that was supposed to be shared between two people, and the residents of the training centre were getting more and more anxious that Eve wasn’t coming back.

Initial rumours had it that Eve asked for an emergency leave last week, right before the home game against Leicester City, via text. It caused quite a stir amongst the front office staffs for—apparently—its anomaly:

1) Eve rarely texts people about work,

2) Eve finally used her leave for the first time since joining the club,

3) George, the Head of HR, approved of her block leave at this time of the year without further questioning.

Not that Martin was paying attention to the gossips, God no. But he could swear the women could definitely bite his ears off during lunch if they kept it this way. Martin silently prayed for Eve to comeback, genuinely this time around, for his ears’ sanity and more importantly, to avoid falling follicles of everyone’s heads due to Lou’s incompetence.

However, after full ten days, Martin knew straight away Eve was back as soon as Colney’s majestic doors went wide open at his approaching steps.

Albeit faint, the signature citrus scent from the air humidifier she turned on lingered in the air and Martin, to be very completely honest, had never felt more familiar with the grandiose training facility than at that moment. It was as if half of Colney’s soul was slowly brought back to life.

He was expecting the woman to throw him her overwhelmingly annoying good morning, Martin! that made his ears rung as he entered Colney but to his surprise, no sounds ever made it to his hearing organs. Martin prided his hearing ability just fine, so this should be recalled for its credibility this time.

Who would’ve thought the day Martin had been dreaming of come earlier than expected?

He was caught off guard, to say the least, that he had to spare the woman a glance to make sure this was reality. But there she was, behind her desk, back straight up ever so professional, eyes down as she scribbled on something—everything was as usual, except for the whole different exterior she was donning.

Eyes cold and lifeless, pale lips on a perfectly straight line.

Martin should be glad his hypothesis was becoming align with reality but instead, he felt more annoyed at the sight—so much more annoyed than when she blasted the ball fire of sun towards his direction.

If Eve tried so hard to change her demeanour, she should take a look at the mirror; going full-on cold city girl didn’t suit her at all. Nothing makes Martin more irritated than someone trying so hard to be intimidating so others can take them seriously.

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“You’re resigning?”

Louisa tried so hard to maintain the decibel of her voice but it came out as a whispered screech instead.

But that wasn’t the reason why Martin stopped in his track, it was the sentence that escaped Louisa’s mouth. No one else other than those two front desk staffs, Louisa and Eve, was around, which meant Louisa was addressing the issue of Eve resigning.

Of all surprise Martin had been getting today, this was the most shocking one. Eve and the word ‘resign’ truthfully didn’t match well in one sentence. Everyone—including Martin to some extent, thanks to the talking walls of the building—knew how much Eve enjoyed her job, being a lifelong fan of Arsenal herself.

“I am,” Eve sounded firm and final from where Martin stood behind the wall. “I just submitted my resignation letter to George this morning.”

“Did you get an offering from somewhere else?” Lou asked, but Martin somehow knew the answer to that question before Eve even answered her partner. “I knew they’re not paying you well for the fantastic job you’ve been doing.”

“It’s not that, Lou,” Eve let out a very tired sigh. It was starting to feel like she wasn’t even trying to put up with the reserved persona today, she was as she sounded like; simply exhausted and resigned. “I don’t know why you haven’t heard anything yet when it’s literally what everyone’s been talking about. Bob cheated on me with my friend, Lou. He brought her along to the physio’s internal party last week, when I was mourning for my mother. Mourning, mind you!”

Yeah, Eve might put a foot on Martin’s nerves with no avail every morning since he signed for Arsenal but at that moment—God, fucking hell—Martin couldn’t decide which one irked him more:

a) there was a fellow human being that acted less humane than a pitted dog, or

b) it took another air-wasting scumbag to prove his own theory of Eve being capable to show emotion other than elation on her face.

“I can’t possibly face everyone here without being pitied by. I don’t want to let them pity me,” While her sentence induced a resolution, her strained voice gave away everything that was silently crumbling inside of her. “I’m not a charity case, for God’s sake.”

Nothing could fill in the seething anger and exasperation in the air.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?” Louisa asked, but the silence that followed pretty much answered everything.

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“Hi, Eve. I’m coming to get something from home.”

Eve could confidently say she has the ability to match a voice to a name without looking at the speaker, but this time she had to look up. None of the Colney residents sounded like this man, complete with an acquired Cockney pronunciation but a slightly mixed accent she couldn’t put her finger on.

Oh, how much she regretted sourcing where the voice came from.

“Hello? Earth to Eve?”

She had to remind herself to take a huge, deep breath and close her gaping mouth. “Martin.”

“Yes, Eve. Now can you—” It seemed Martin pursed his lips to stop himself from saying something. “Can I get the packs my mom sent me here?”

Eve almost fell off her seat at the significant difference in the tone Martin used before and after putting his lips on a straight line. Now, it was pretty clear he was agitated at first before biting his own tongue and calmed himself down, switching to a gentler tone—of which was the world’s newest seven wonders, Eve presumed.

“I—” It was honestly too much for Eve to take on at once that she had to remind herself to collect herself. “Yes, of course. They came this morning, let me get them for you.”

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

Okay, this is officially weird, Eve thought as she walked into the mailing room behind the partiture. First, instead of tailgating someone else to fetch his packages or letters, Martin graced his presence to the front office, alone. Second, he speak nicely to her. Thirdly, he was able to say ‘thank you’?!

“Here’s the small one, Jordan can help with the big one when you clock out.”

“Oh, no need. I’ll just hail it over my shoulder before I clock out,” Eve could definitely tell Martin was in awkward place, shifting his weight from the right foot to the left. “Where do I sign for these?”

Did someone dare him to talk to me? Eve couldn’t help but be suspicious. None of these made sense. “Here and here. There are also some mails from the fans back there. I’ve sorted them out for you.”

“Ah, okay. Great,” Martin reached for the pen as fast as the lightning. “Thanks.”

Oh, how much Eve hated this kind of pregnant silence. There was a reason why she wanted people to warm up to her so she could talk anything and everything to fill in these dreadful moments, but it seemed like Martin forgot to pick up the notes she left on the locker room.

Heck—Eve couldn’t think of anything else but Martin walking past her notes without sparing a glance. He’d detested anything that could relate him to her.

“I heard you’re resigning.”

Okay, the Earth is definitely ending tomorrow. Martin Ødegaard making small talk to her?!

“I see the wailing wall has reached your ears,” Eve tried to laugh off how much he put her into the same awkward place as he was. How could he know...? Is that my heart skipping a beat? “But yeah, I’ll be gone after the upcoming Manchester City game.”

“So soon, huh?” With that, Martin signed off everything necessary. “Have you thought about the parting gift?”

“I’ll probably send you all a customized letter or something.”

Eve couldn’t believe her ears as Martin scoffed at her idea. She was only joking, sure, but it enticed another reaction from the Norwegian other than annoyance? What kind of sorcery is this?

“You don’t strike me as someone who writes,” Shoot me, how the fuck did he know? “I’d quit with one last bang if I were you.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Eve couldn’t believe she was actually considering Martin’s idea. Oh, how much she’d like to leave an imprint here, especially to that ex-boyfriend of hers. She’d pay to make him regret his decision until the day he died. “But only if I knew how.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Martin picked up his box, signaling he was departing. “You’re a bright woman.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Morning, Eve.”

Even though Eve could now register his voice without seeing the handsome face, Eve swore to God she’d never get used to with Martin Ødegaard greeting her first. If he kept up with being this friendly—yes, at this point Eve considered Martin being friendly, despite their (still) lack of interaction—Eve might not survive the New Year.

“Oh! Hi, Martin!” She didn’t even bother covering up her surprise. “What can I get you today?”

“My mom sent me something again, she said.”

“Uh, I haven’t received any. I’ll let you know in theWhatsApp group if they’re here.”

“Alright, thanks,” and off he went.

Back again with two-word answers. Maybe Eve put the friendly label far too soon.

But it’s okay, she thought to herself. At least I resign from this place without any beef with anyone here.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?”

“Jesus, Martin!” Eve genuinely put her hands on her chest from the shock of Martin returning. She’d literally be dead before the New Year at this point. “I’m not smiling.”

“You are,” Eve wondered how Martin could say something meant to tease her with such a straight face. “I’m just going to take it as you’re planning the plan to leave this place with a bang.”

“Ah—yeah, about that,” Eve shifted her weight to the other feet nervously, remembering how she went to countless Tinder dates these past two weeks without any result as to whom she’d go to the party with. “I’m thinking of going to the Christmas party with someone but none of the dates I’ve met so far could go on par my standard.”

“And what is the standard?”

“Considering Bob’s ugly, I’d say someone younger than him but more good-looking than he’ll ever be,” Eve shrugged, masking off the disgust she once dated such guy. “But has to be way smarter than he is.”

“Okay, so in short,” Eve’s feet moved backwards on its own when Martin placed his crossed arms on the table, body leaning in towards her as if he was thinking hard. As if whatever Eve might say next interested him. “You need someone better in all aspects.”

“Exactly.”

“What if I know someone who might not be smarter but so much more popular than him?”

Martin’s helping her?! “Define more popular.”

“Verified account on Instagram.”

Martin’s helping her. When would this guy stop surprising her? “Awesome, when can I meet him? You know, to run through stuffs so he doesn’t blow—”

“Chill, Eve,” How could Martin sense she was getting excited but at the same time panicking because of hoshe badly wanted to blow Bob’s arse off the water? “He knows the deal.”

“He’s like, what? A professional con artist?” At her submission, Martin laughed. Like the genuine laugh she only saw when he was around others that was definitely not her. Like the one that lit up his entire face, cracking away that cold, Scandinavian features. “What are you, Martin Ødegaard? Why are you friends with such people?”

“As tempting as that idea sounds like, sadly I don’t have that kind of friends,” The smile remained etched on Martin’s face and Eve had to remind herself how to breathe properly. She was devastated he was the only person that wasn’t talking to her then, she was devastated he was the only person that could coax this bodily response out of her now. “What I mean is he knows about the whole Christmas party thing.”

“Is there another staff that’s single that I don’t know of?” Eve immediately recounted all of the single male staffs in the building that could potentially be her partner for a night in her mind. None that met her standard. “Who is it?”

“You’re looking at him.”

Image be damned, Eve must’ve contorted her face all in the wrong directions like she usually did when her friends dropped the bomb they were getting a gunshot wedding. Not that she was judgemental or anything, but it always came as a shock when they did, growing up together and all.

Who the fuck could contain their composure when Martin Ødegaard dropped the same kind of bomb? Nuclear might as well be more fitting in this context.

“What?” Martin’s face turned into something else, confidence was definitely not in the cards anymore. Eve immediately rectified her expression, not wanting the luxury of having Martin Ødegaard she’d seen minutes ago disappear into thin air. “Don’t I qualify?”

“No! I mean, yes—” Eve unconsciously reached for Martin’s arms when he started pulling himself away. “You do, you’re an excellent candidate—”

“But?”

“But you’re you,” Eve lifted her eyebrows in confusion, not knowing what else to say to emphasis he couldn’t possibly be her date for the Christmas party. “You’re Martin Ødegaard.”

“I don’t see anything that complicates your situation.”

Based on Martin’s expression, he truly didn’t see anything weird about it. About them coming from two whole different worlds. About them getting together meant it only happened in fairy tales. “You’re an Arsenal player. No one’s going to believe you’re going out with me.”

“Then we’ll make them believe.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Martin!”

As soon as she called the Norwegian, Eve regretted her action with her whole being. She moved without thinking much, too eager to talk the concerns that had been plaguing her for the past fortnight with her soon-to-be partner-in-crime, that she didn’t realise she was already reaching for his hands, stopping the football player in his place.

However, not only the said player stopped his tracks, but the rest of the canteen went silent at their once-in-a-lifetime—as far as the public knew anyway—interaction.

“Ummm,” Under everyone’s scrutiny, Eve faltered, her hands falling to her sides. “Uh, I—”

“Have my packages arrived?”

That was certainly not why she looked for him but as she met his eyes, she sensed that he was merely helping her out of the awkward situation. How she knew the hidden meaning behind his words, it was a wonder she certainly would have to figure out.

But later, not now, not when her brain was melting under the spotlight. How could Martin play a sold-out match almost every week? “Yes! Yes! The mailman needs your signature.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Without further ado, Eve dashed out from the canteen without looking back.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course, everyone would look at them. Eve and calling the name ‘Martin’ didn’t belong in the same sentence—couldn’t, even. As far as everyone was concerned, there was an Atlantic Ocean between them.

Eve didn’t even realise she was restlessly pacing back and forth in her small space of working until Martin got a hold of her wrist, stopping her motion. She turned around to face him, unfazed with what had just happened.

“You’re panicking.”

Oh, how much she wanted to scream ‘you think?!’ at his face.

“Breathe,” Martin’s eyes told her it wasn’t a moot point, so she did. She still felt like she’d explode anytime soon. “You should stop doing that, it doesn’t suit you.”

“What?”

“Panicking,” he answered as easy as the breeze brushing her face. If she wasn't busy sending signals to her brain to not puke on him, she’d notice her breath was now turning more regularly due to the small circles Martin drew on the back of her hand he was holding.

“What does, then?”

“Talking to people, so talk to me. What’s up?”

Eve swore she’d warn Martin to stop whiplashing her reality left and right with his unpredictable answers after they wrapped up this whole fiasco. Like he knew everything about her. Like he wasn’t breathing fire down her way a week ago whenever she tried to talk to him.

Now, she had to confide him her biggest concern. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Martin didn’t show any reaction to her submission. Not a blink, not a muscle pulled—nada. And it scared her because she was used to seeing people’s reaction to what she said. She liked Martin more when she could read between his lines, like how he saved her from a trouble less than five minutes ago, and not this expressionless one.

“Why are you not saying anything?”

“I thought you have more to say,” Martin replied, as if it was the most obvious thing she should know. “I told you not to think, just walk me through whatever it is you’re feeling.”

“And I told you, I don’t think I can pull it off.”

“Why?”

“I heard he’s going to come.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Martin was still so calm and composed, it terrified her. While she liked when people used their brain for most parts, she should’ve come to someone else who could actually support her decision. “What are we going to do if he’s not there?”

“He knows I hate going to places like that, where I go against the company’s policy for internal dating,” Eve shook her head fervently, trying to make sense to Martin, albeit knowing how futile her attempt would be. Martin was the club’s captain for a reason. “He’s not going to believe this charade, Martin.”

“Good thing I’m technically not an employee here, then.”

Eve internally groaned—well, she thought she kept it to herself but it seemed like Martin caught on it.

“Look, Eve,”

What’s that sound? Right, that was the sound of her heart taking a deep plunge as Martin held her in place by the shoulders. It was amazing how light his grip was but it made her senses aware of nothing else but his hands on her shoulders.

“What he’s doing is basically parading a trophy girlfriend. You know how brilliant you are by refusing him? You showed him that you’re so much more than that,” There goes another beat of my heart. No one had spoken to Eve like that, especially with such confidence towards herself, not even her girlfriends that she usually sought advice for. “By coming with me, you’re basically giving him a big, fat fuck you in his face because it takes someone like me for you to break your own rules. You’re going to show him you know you’re worth and that he’s not worth your time from the beginning.”

A small part of Eve didn’t want to cede to Martin’s logic, proving to herself she was worrying over something so useless. “But what if that wench’s also there, Martin? I can’t stand the disrespect—”

“No one will disrespect you while I’m there, Eve. Not under my watch, they won’t,” Eve had heard so many men saying such lines with the same level of resolution in his voice, but never one with the same amount of determination that laced his words and plastered on his face.

It was Martin’s game face, meaning he didn’t intend to entertain child’s play.

“They’ll have to step over my dead body.”

#anon asks #oh-saints writes #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fics #martin odegaard fanfics #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard blurbs #martin odegaard x oc #martin odegaard drabble #martin odegaard drabbles #martin odegaard imagines #footie fic #footie fics #footie fanfics #footballer x oc

[keen-li]

CLAWED | JJK | 03

Synopsis: "do you honestly think I want your help? I'm desperate " you can still see the hatred he has for you in his eyes, but you can also see the desperation.

Genre: e2l, angst, fluff, smut-ish. Convict jk x police officer reader

Fem reader x jk

Warnings: cussing

_________________________

The usual side comments and mumbles are heard as you walk through the station to the chief's office. You ignore everyone and mind your business, as you always do, when you feel a large strong hand grab your ass.

"It's just how we talked about boys" you hear sunho, one of the officers, yell as his friends cheer him on.

This crosses your boundary and you punch his nose, which causes him to grab his now bloody nose and groan. You threaten to pull out your gun but the yells coming from the other officers telling you to stop held you back. You decide to continue your journey giving sunho one last nasty glare and you notice how he grabs the tissue his friend gives him.

"Whore" you hear one if sunho's friends yell towards you but you keep moving and finally reach the chief's office. You'd have to tell the chief about this.

You walk in after his authoritative 'come in'

"Good morning officer" he greets "I'm sure you have the report I asked for" he says this his attention not fully on you but on some papers.

"Good morning sir and yes I do" he stretches his hand signaling you to give them to him which you do. He doesn't look at it but simply puts them away to the side.

You stand in position seemingly waiting for his attention so you can tell him the other thing you have to him.

He looks your way meeting your eyes with his cold ones.

"Anything else I can do for you?" He asks not rudely but it definitely sounds that way. Before you can start your sentence someone walks into the office and after lecturing the officer over knocking he lets the man speak.

"We have some leads on the Kim robbery" the chief stays silent for a moment takening in the information and turns to you.

"I'm pretty sure you're concern can wait can't it?" He didn't even get to hear you out. You nod taking it as your cue to leave. You close the door behind you and you wait before you leave, standing in front of the door for a bit. No one could see you.

"We've located one of the guys, taehyung but he's on the run" you hear the officer say

"but the other two are nowhere to be found and we still dont know how many in total they are"

"no description of the others?"

" No "

You decided to walk away not wanting to snoop any further, if they wanted you on the case they'd let you.

You've been hearing about this case. A group of guys apparently robbing the largest Kim company and holding people at gunpoint, even killing two and one injured. You wonder what idiots would think of robbing the Kim company. But it also surprises you how they've seamlessly been able to slip and hide.

__________________________________

You didn't get the chance to eat yoongi's brownies that he brought you two days ago, you hope they're still okay but you don't worry cause stored them pretty well. You hope he isn't mad at you for how long you've taken to give him the feedback.

So you're now bent over your counter stuffing your face with the brownies while going through your phone. These brownies are so good you'd swear he bought them from a bakery. You haven't had anything this good in a while, well except for the caffeine you take in everyday, nothing can beat that. While you're stuffing your face with brownies you see a message from your Dad.

"Don't forget your mother's birthday. We're having a Birthday Gathering I hope you can come."

Shit, you forgot that this weekend's your mother's birthday, you feel so horrible for forgetting. So you decide to punish yourself by closing the brownie box and stuffing it back into the fridge.

You're still beating yourself up when you're startled by the sound of the tap turning on. You thought you were alone.

"when did you enter the kitchen?" still startled you ask jungkook who's washing his hands and for a second you see him stare at your ass. Who can blame him you're wearing your pajama shorts and on your tippy toes stuffing the box on the top and highest shelf of your fridge.

He turns his gaze away as he dries his hands.

"just got in" he lies, he was watching you as you beat yourself up for forgetting your mother's birthday and stuff your face with yoongi's brownies. As a matter of fact he didn't even need to wash his hands he used it has an excuse to enter the kitchen.

"Anyway" you change the topic and walk to the other side of the island. You're trying to find a gentle way of saying what you want to say.

"It's past 4 days" you beat around the bush and fiddle with your fingers. You didn't want to be rude about it but it had to be said.

You don't want to hurt his feelings, but think about all the times he's hurt your feelings you think to yourself. You think for a bit remember the times he'd hurt your feelings, what you're gonna say can't be worse than that.

Jungkook watches you knowing what you want to say but wanting you to say it.

"It's passed four days and and you're still here" you say sternly finally finding your confidence.

"when I moved in this house I didn't plan on feeding two mouths."

Jungkook looks at you but you can't keep the same eye contact, he doesn't say anything just letting you speak. The silence lingers for a bit when he finally speaks.

"y/n if you want me to leave just say so" he says leaving the kitchen, you immediately rush over to grab him by his tattooed arm to stop him from moving.

"That's not what I meant" what are you even saying it is what you meant, and why are you holding onto him. You quickly pull your arm away from him as if his arm had suddenly turned into a hot coal.

Why are you trying to 'plead' or justify what you're saying, you should be standing your ground. You didn't want jungkook in your house and that's final. But again somewhere in you, you didn't want to kick him out like a dog.

"You know jungkook, I don't know what happened to you" your tone is a little loud and rough and he has his back to you but he doesn't move.

"You were the best, better than me better, than sunho for fucks sake, better than everyone" you continue to yell.

He truly was the best at everything when competitions came around and people knew he was participating they would honestly forget about winning. You always had hope that someone would beat him and you'd hoped it be you.

And after he wins he'd always commend you for believing in yourself, mocking you of course, you honestly didn't know why you hated jungkook. Maybe it was because he hated you or that he hung out with shitty people, sunho, you really hated the fact that you three graduated together and got the same job at the same office. It didn't make life any better for you.

"Ever since you lost your job" you can't continue and take a much needed break to calm yourself.

"what happened to you" now you think about it you never actually knew why jungkook got fired it was so early on and sudden. Alll you knew is that he got fired and after that you never saw much of him.

The guy who spent his entire time at the Academy and work making your life hell, got fired. You should have been happy that he got fired but it didn't bring you much pleasure and you didn't know why. You often thought about it and him but you always brushed it off your brain telling you you should be happy that one of your nightmares were gone.

Henhasn't turned to look at you or even speak but when he does you can't tell what you see in his eyes, but it's nothing you've ever seen in him even when he'd tell you the most hurtful things.

"I never liked how you never knew how to mind your own business" he says so calmly but with so much bitterness.

"how can I? How can I mind my own business when you're living in my house?" you start to move your hands around showing your confusion towards the situation.

"for all I know you could be a criminal on the run jungkook" you don't know why you said it but it's the first thing that comes to mind.

You see jungkook's face change when you say that and he scoffs.

" you really think I'm a criminal? You really think I could be one? Huh? y/n" he presses the question.

"I don't know" you lower your tone unsure. You actually don't think jungkook can be a criminal but your mind is clouded that you don't know what to think.

"well if you want to know why I got fired so bad" you stand not wanting to speak, you had already spoken your mind.

" I got to charged for fraud"

your jaw drops both physically and mentally. Fraud? jungkook?what?

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#fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #yoongi #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jungkoooook

[dylansslutt]

judas kiss / t.s

part three of dishonest (mini series)

 authors note// hi thank you so much for your feedbacks, if i have anything unfinished yall really want another part too please lmk bc i literally have lots of ask/request or even things ive started up & forgot ab or have in my drafts. butt i am going through and finishing out some stuff, i just took a vacation and rlly needed some me time... BUT IM BACK BITCHES!!!

   also... holy shit a thousand something followers!!!! thank you guys seeing the endless love and support of my writings has boosted me into starting my own book series ... but thats for another spill. thank you again for following me on my journey of my shitty writings to my development.

i got this tip thing working, i do work full time & go to school so any tips are welcomed and appreciated but either way ty all.

anywhore here is the third part/ im thinking final part as well. let your imagination think of the end... unless too many of yall want more.

 tag list: @allie131313​ @casa-boiardi​

summary: lying about your identity, leads you face to face with the one and only thomas shelby. as chaos unravels much more surfaces as well.

  staring in the mirror, feeling the old, yet the familiar feeling of a silk night gown cascading down your body. remembering the time lasted only for a mere few years. years you weren’t happy. the bruises were faded mainly, except the slight pain in your ribs still.

 taking small pain killers help.

 the day has left you tired leaving the rest of the clothing in the corner of the room. laughing almost as you take in the fact; he really did get you some new clothes. as well as being kind of enough to grab some of your own from your apartment.

 which you were notified was absolutely trashed, yet hidden away you found a picture. one of you, your mum and sister. so young... so innocent. the memories of everything was building up.

 the gown fit you nicely though, the cloth was soft and comfortable. something you almost forgot what felt like, since being alone on the run . glancing over at the clock noticing it was getting late. 

biting your lip softly, things mule over in your head. how thomas was and if maybe, just maybe you two met under a different circumstance. hell even just a re-do of your meetings.

 ignoring it as your hair gets tucked behind your ear. deciding to leave this room and not be cooped up.

 as you step out, your eyes flicker down the hall. movements halting as your mind comes more clear. he was right there in that room.

 the room you’ve seen him enter a mere few times. the light flickers through the crack of the door. it was there. right in front of you. 

 hand never leaving the door knob, biting your lip in deep thought. happy he got you your clothes from home, as well as a few new items. must’ve gotten help from a lady because there’s no way he chose these alonesome. 

 shaking these thoughts your feet spring into action. hand beside you now as your focus was on where he was. fist raising to knock on the ajar door. it swings open wider, creaking slightly as thomas sets some papers down. 

 smoke still in hand as his eyes lift to yours, exhaling the smoke from his lips. he lifts it back up, inhaling again taking in the sight of you. in more different clothing than anything he has seen before. work uniform, one little outfit, and his clothing. you looked good, stunning in a way.

 he was as he usually was, expect a bit more exposed.

 the anger still present when your wounds become more visible, thankfully more faint now. he’s already sent john to deal with that particular matter, but now he had to deal with some stuff tonight.

 “got to look at the stuff, thank you.” giving him a small smiling, trying to make this attempt for a better start forward. needing time to plan future things as your mind hasn’t had a hint of peace.

 he nods licking his lips, ashing in the tray.

 “can’t have you walking around naked, can we?”

  the joke brought a smile small to your lips, as your head thinks about the picture. unaware if he knew it was there or if someone else did the work. his focus is back on the papers making you step in. taking in this private study he enchants himself too; felt like him.

 biting your lip softly, the sight of him before you has your mind in another place. he looks like something you saw only moments before. a mirror image of yourself. less battered and bruised on the outside though, yet he was tired. his eyes red, the bottle out in the open. he was more open, more vulnerable.

 “y/n?”

 you shake your head, a blush crosses your cheeks. “sorry. what ya’ say?” 

he holds back his emotion, but his attention is now yours. “i’ve gotta meeting tonight, tomorrow some more to do. until then just stay here, out of harms way for the love of god.”

 he stands up and stares at you. your lip ends up between your teeth, feeling a bit nervous. he didn’t sound so serious so fierce, he sounds exhausted. as you were to even fight back, which he noticed.

 “if you are up by the time i get home, we should talk.” your eyes narrow at his words, nodding slightly. hands coming up to brush your hair back once more.

 “just knock on my door when you get back, thomas.” 

 with that you open the cracked door wider, rushing out of the room. everything felt too tense too unsettling in there. only when his footsteps become noticeable, you realize he was following you.

 heart racing as you reach halfway down the hall, nearing the stairs. for a moment, your eyes flicker to the front door. 

 the thought crosses your mind. ignoring it as you continue to ‘your’ room desperate that he isn’t actually following. that he would walk himself down those stairs instead.

 as you reach the door his presence was there, the defeat leaves you. turning around to face him. his face was inches from yours. something deep in his eyes as he pushes the door open.

 “thomas?”

 the door closes behind you as he is now only standing in front of you, a heave in his chest almost. “their dead, alright? the men from that night, their gone.”

 your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “wh-why are ya’ tellin’ me this?” he comes forward cupping your cheek. the look in his eye is something you’ve seen before. loss.

 staying still in his embrace, “i-i don’t want ya’ scared of me... for some fuckin’ reason.”

 the confession made your mouth shut completely. “i don’t want ya’ scared at all.”  it didn’t feel exactly true but it what was easiest for him to say. 

that was until he pulls you onto his lips. hands landing on his chest, mouth moving with his out of instinct. pulling away as you push him back slightly. staring into the eyes of a loss man, knowing this could end terribly. 

your chest rises and falls quickly, “i- told ya-”

 “tell me to stop then, y/n.” the deep stare between you two leaves something rattling inside of you. 

 “i-i get your past. i know mines fucked, but i-...” you trail off biting the inside of your cheek for a moment. the internal debate ends with him pushing forward.

 lips on his he pulls you close, your hands around his neck as you both fall back on the bed straddling him. his hands push against your back, deepening the kiss. the hold on you wasn’t harsh, just tight possessive like. as if you were to disappear at any moment.

 pulling away for air, his lips trail from your cheek to your neck. the giggle escapes your lips involuntarily, and for a moment thomas sighs. not of boredom and displeasure but of relief.

 it made your heart swirl because you felt it too. the non-serious feeling of this. even though it wouldn’t last, it felt real for the moment.

 his hand slips down from your waist onto your thighs. eyes flickering back up at you. your hands tug at his shirt, him taking the hint to remove it. the bare chest was there and now you could really look at it.

“thomas.”

 his hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. he flips you over and he holds himself up against you. your back against the bed, other hand trailing between your thighs, you just as desperate for his touch.

 he lifts the gown up slowly, teasing you with his touch. his head drops into the crane of your neck, kissing it softly before tugging your panties down softly. a soft gasp escapes you and he whispers something in your ear.

 “so fuckin’ beautiful.”

 your eyes roll back as he swirls your clit, the sensation incredible. “fuck.”

 “taste good too.”

 he enters a finger before he slowly moves his body down. his motion was slow and you whine when he leaves you. looking down seeing him between your thighs now, inches from you. his eyes flicker up, the blue prominent.

“impatient ay’?” your hand flies into his hair. trying to ignore the urge to roll your eyes,

“did ya’ forget that already?”

 without another word his tongue swirls around you, a soft moan leaves you. he continues but slowly adding a finger. your calves press into his shoulders more, leaving his tongue to move slightly faster.

 “oh th-” he slides another finger in making your words cut short, back arching off the bed slightly. giving him access to push your gown up above your breast. his hand comes back down around your thighs, feeling them shake around him.

 unable to take it anymore your hand pushes at his head, but he holds it down instead. speeding up as your stomach drops, a moan leaving your throat. liquid coats his fingers and tongue as he stands up completely.

 “do ya’ love anyone y/n?” the question caught you off guard. your breathing uneven coming down from your high; his pants drop and your body felt even more turned on.

 “never really had a chance to experience love. probably doesn’t exist.” you confess the mere summary as you spread your shaky legs. his grip on them tightens, moving you closer to him.

 he stares down at you in a way that you truly didn’t understand. “i like ya’, ms.solomons.” he confesses as he spits down on you. the action so dirty, but the confession so clean.

 “just y/n, thomas.” the intent was known and he kisses your knee before moving. the feeling of him entering you slowly, made you grip his arm that held your waist. 

 “i sometimes-” you stutter out as he rocks against you slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open.

 “i sometimes like to believe it could be true.”

 he leans forward, the angle deeper than before as he kisses you deeply. his free hand coming to cup your jaw. his hips pick up speed leaving you a moaning mess in his mouth.

 he was gentle, taking in what you reacted too. this wasn’t your first time but he felt as if you were innocent in a way. your eyes flicker up to him before you tug your dress over your head.

 leaving you both completely exposed, “it’s true.” he confesses pulling away, turning holding you up against him as he lays down. your knees against the bed as he bucks up into him.

 “ya’ crazy mr.shelby.” he pushes your hips down even more leading to the familiar feeling arise again. your nails sink in his shoulder, biting your lip clinging to him.

 “say’s the one who’s dead.” you try to get a witty remark out but your orgasm spreads, feeling yourself starting to clench.

 “yet ya’ look so fucking alive around me.” the wetness spreads down your thighs as he doesn’t let you go. “m-maybe i feel alive- with ya’.” the deep moan leaves you, the feeling of your bare chest touching had you in a whirl.

 he’s buried deep in you as you cling to him, almost in tears overstimulated. you beg him. “tho-thomas. i-”

“so fuckin’ good.” his his shake slightly, as he leans back staring into your eyes. “do you trust me?” at how you were feeling you’d trust anything. your eyes flutter but you nod.

  he stutters into you as his releases inside you making your eyes widen. pulling back panting as his eyes connect with yours. two different looks.

 “wh-what did you do?”

 “do ya’ trust me?” the logic in the room was clearly not there because without a second thought you nod again. he kisses you softly, “be mine. stay alive and i promise ya’ everything you could need.”

 you pull yourself out of him, wincing at the feeling. your eyes stare into his, as the covers surround you,

“but you don’t love me.” 

 his eyes drop slightly, “i can see somethin’ in you. i need someone like ya’, think of this as something good.” you feel so exposed staring at him in disgust. “ya’-ya’ just came in me, who knows if i’ll get pregnant! thi-this is not gonna end well. what the fuck were ya’ thinking?”

 “what the fuck was i thinkin’? oh my go-”

 he sits up, “i’m thinking fuckin’ smart! ya’ know this shit, i am rising y/n, i need a wife and i need someone who can be that wife.” you stare at him and stop for a moment. it cut off your overthinking for a moment.

 it wouldn’t be real but it could be. yet either way you could be safe... you could be free of being on the run. you could be alive.

 “i need to think on it? i-i can have your answer tonight.” your words tremble slightly as you slip your gown on, facing away from him. “hey.” his hand lands on your shoulder. 

your flinch makes him wince, scooting closer to you. covered up with the sheets. “i haven’t asked just anyone this question. this is fuckin’ insane but i-i do like ya’. we can figure this shit out because you know it’s true.”

 “you need me just as much as i need you.” you mutter as a  small smile appears on your lips, “i need a shower for a fact and nap thomas. you have somewhere to be, should get going.”

 his hand leaves yours taking your hint, “i’ll knock on your door tonight. get some rest.”

after he redresses and the door closes behind him, the tears stream down your cheeks. you wanted him but you were so scared and conflicted.

 your answer was yes from the moment you realize he was as stubborn as you but you were now a ghost.

-

 you were laid down, the candles still lit allowing thomas to see your image. he walks closer but you were barely asleep. he sits down beside you and sighs heavily.

 he doesn’t know you’ve woken up, and his energy was strong. you figured thomas shelby out and for a man to keep you around long enough...

 you knew from the beginning you liked this man, but being ‘dead’ has made you believe any. any of that type of thing was impossible. slowly you turn over, facing the man who stares ahead.

 “eric is tryin’ to be a political man. if ya’ know alfie, imagine a sickenin’ no good bastard times a billion.... as him.” the words made thomas sit a bit straighter. you felt vulnerable now, half asleep tucked into a new home.

 you had to give a answer.

 “i’ve looked him up, he isn’t much and from what i’ve heard. alfie really doesn’t give two fucks for him.” the way he settles his sentence lets you know that eric is no threat. to you or himself in any aspect.

 “charlie’s mother, i-i won’t ask you to speak of her.” you sit up now, thomas takes in your sleepy appearance. “if i take on that boy as my own. i will love and teach him as my own, but you have to tell me about her so he can know his true mother.”

 your eyes swell up slightly. “she won’t be forgotten in your mind ever, i know that. so let me learn, let me be there for you so i don’t go crazy. so i-i can do better...”

 the words hit thomas and he only shifts to maintain his composure. you don’t notice since your emotional more so, but he knows he did right choosing you.

 “i have a story, everything about how to make you ‘undead’ since your job at it wasn’t the best.” that made your eyes look up at him.  “i know ya’ can’t be her, but i do have some’ towards you.” 

his hand reaches out to cup your face. “she wanted some of the stuff you did as well...”

 the deep stare was all that was needed, you let this moment last. he was gone when he lost her. loosing her was loosing apart of himself. you accepted it because you truly knew love was not meant for you in this lifetime.

 slowly breaking the moment, lips almost trembling but your composure well gathered now. “if we do this- ya’ can’t treat or make me out to be some fool of a house wife. i-i’m more than that and i’ll be damned to be one of your puppets.”

 moving out of his reach makes you ache for it more yet thomas sees something within you. you were sorta like polly sometimes. strongly determined woman.

 “ya’ help me stay together, ya’ help me keep this household together... my family together and whatever ya’ want is yours.” flickering from each eye, he awaits your response and you nod.

 “i agree, to be your wife. i agree to hold your secrets, now for i wish to get rid of the jewish ways though... go back to the gypsie ways. please.” your desperation was without notice and he kisses you.

 kissing you felt like kissing grace.

kissing you felt like kissing grace.

-

  setting down the glass of whiskey, your eyes train along the inside courier. everything was simple, everything was different. charles was taken to bed not too long ago, you didn’t see much of him but it made you think.

 too take on this responsibility was what you were raised for. yet you ran from it because eric was a vile man... so is thomas. your heart aches though due to the surprising feeling erupting yourself; that you may just like the man ever so slightly.

 with your past and his it felt like you both being so fucked up, it could work? sighing heavily and grabbing the glass once more. the liquid slips down your throat as you enjoy the peace of true alone time.

 telling his maid, well lady of help to head to sleep since you were up. if charles was to awake you could handle it or if need be. get her up. charles really ponders through your mind, for you would be like a mother.

 you could be his mother, yet you would never wanna replace his true mother. what was she even like? what did she view or believe? what the hell did she see in thomas shelby?

 he said she was a bit like you, in what fucking way?

 you move and see her painting and you looked nothing of her. she looked of class and elegance, some real princess shit. you didn’t compare to that, so what motive was this?

 make me alive again, was this his plan? biting your lip you throw back the remaining liquor. rolling your eyes at the empty cup, you head towards the kitchen.

 smiling to yourself of the kindness that francis left out the bottle for you. moving forward you almost reach the counter but you were hit over the head. your body hit the ground harshly, the glass breaking surrounds you.

 it flashes back to the moments of your mothers death. yet before you could react you were hit again, and the darkness overtook you.

-

 you awoke in a moving vehicle, head pounding your face contorts in displeasure. trying to focus your vision, your eyes land on a priest as well as a few other men.

 “hello miss solomons.” the priest smiles wickedly and you stare back unfazed, or atleast as much as you could appear.

 “well you see, there’s so many ways this here can go. yet as of right now, you are actually of great use.” his tone menacing and your head was spinning.

 you try desperately to maintain eye contact with his. unsatisfied with your response of nothing; he nods as one of his men move forward. the hit makes your head sling to the side. blood literally splattering onto the window beside you.

 the taste of blood in your mouth has became a all too familiar feeling. as you let your head hang lowly, you over hear someone mutter. “we are almost there.”   

 moving your hand to wipe your chin, seeing the back of your hand covebloody finally angers you. not knowing where this was going, you finally look back up. “i think we might just have to use the boy instead.” 

your heart drops, distracted now. the boy? of course it had to be...

“what boy?” you finally speak, it slightly muffled due to your severe swollen lip. this gets the mans reaction. “she speaks!”

 “what boy?” you question again, feeling a sense of protectiveness all of a sudden. what is going on with you?

 “ahh, mr.shelby’s boy. ya’ see we have a deadline, and i do have orders with him. oh i spoke to your cousin mr.solomons... he does seem to have a keen interest of seeing you.”

 sitting back you take in everything, the deep wrenching pain in your chest over came you. ”didn’t mention if it meant alive or dead, though. dear.”

 tears fill your eyes, as you realize everything. this was all a lie, a pawn, a game.

 “yet your price is a wager, does thomas care more for your safety or does your cousin? or i could merely kill you now and just let you be what you so ‘desire’.”

 his words let everything truly settle now. you never escaped. you just switched paths.

 it almost could make you laugh, until it did. you looked crazy and stupid but you were laughing, hysterically almost. wincing at your lip throbbing, heaving out as your head pounds from the movement. you stare into the mans eyes dazed. he stares back at you in discomfort but looks away.

 thomas got his own kid into this shit. he better have this all figured out. dizzy from the amount of hits to the head you’ve taken. you look back over and see the man on your right snatching out two pills. eyes widening slightly as you try to move back.

 “what is that? wh-wha-no!” the men hold you down, your kicks and hits defenseless. the pills shoved in your mouth. water forced down your throat whilst your nose was plugged, left you choking on the water. forcing you to swallow.

 yet they continue it for a few seconds longer, leaving you to start choking horribly. knowing it was swallowed, you were let go finally. shaking and drenched in water, you wildly swing your fist forward. 

pure rage in hitting the man on the right. your leg kicks the other guy, before you hit the priest once. a strong hit leaves you slumped, mind swirling until you were no longer able to stay awake.

-

 a strong jerk makes your eyes flicker open. charles was crying softly, making you ignore your own pain. sitting up you look at the man holding him. out of it but desperate you plea.

 “give him to me. please, i-i was a mother, i know how to make him stop.” you lie out of instinct but the man seems irritated and hands charles over with ease. ignoring their looks as we come to a stop.

 pressing a soft kiss to his head, you hold him soft rocking him softly. your watch the men get out of the vehicle, it was dark out now and your head hurt so bad.

 keeping it together for the sake of charles, you try to stay focused. the priest man comes back and you clutch charles more tightly, charles surprisingly soothes down within your hold.

 “come on, lets go.” knowing what happen last time, you slowly move out the car, careful with charles the cold wind hits your skin for your only in a nightgown and light sweater. which was blood stained.

 the darkness led you to follow him, but soon a room with light appears. you sat down as instructed, feeling the light make your head hurt worse. you notice the two other guys didn’t follow through and he was now alone.

 trying not to move, you let charles sit beside you. oddly enough he gave charles something to eat while you stay silent. he looks up at you with a smile.

 “the deal is all taken care of, you will be taken care of soon.”

 this sick bastard. he gets up suddenly looking back at me, “stay here.” the tone was threatening and you nod softly. scared of what might happen, you sit quietly listening in hard. 

moments pass before you heard the words uttered, “please don’t shoot.” you fly up, feeling dizzy from the quickness, glancing back seeing if charles will be okay. 

moving forward grasping the wall beside you, as the spots slowly fade from your vision. following the way he took trying to listen in on where the sounds were coming from.

 moving quicker at the noise of grunting and painful sounds, ignoring your own pain. you round the corner, taking in the sight of the priest guy fighting a younger guy. 

 in the oddest moment you notice a hat, the familiar hat. the cap thomas had, a similar one on the ground.  “you know who your fucking messing with?” 

 he throws the guy against a bench, swinging on him. both hands wrap around his throat in such a swift motion. the look on his face reminded you of what yours probably looked like. without thinking you grab a nearby book.

“i’ll take the fuckin’ life from ya’.” you throw the book, it missing your goal hitting him in the back. “leave him the hell alone!” rushing forward, as he turns around one arm coming out. his elbow hits you harshly making you fly back.

 hitting the side of a bench, your ribs aching out from the movement. not even knowing what you hit, you stay on the floor. tears leave your eyes unwillingly from the pain.

 flying back the back of your head slams into a bench, rolling over sideways. in a slump, you barely were able to make out what was in front of you. all the damage to your head, you knew in nursing this was severe.

“both of ya’ gypsie bastards” without a second thought, the man slices the priest eye. him stumbling back in pain, as the younger man kept coming and coming at him.

 “melanie?” you call out as you swore you heard her voice. snapping out of it at the slam open of doors.

 two men emerge from a door, too much in pain to handle that situation. trying to push up, hearing the sound of charles cries. “charles.” you gasp out, completely remembering the boy. 

managing to get up shakily, moving forward only to stop momentarily. taking in the sight of the bloody mess of the once alive priest. the image locks you in, before you turn back. your were weak and slow but you reach charles.

collapsing beside him leaning back against a near wall. ignoring everything in the world, for it was too much to bare. how odd you found yourself near something of pure innocence; after the chaos you just endured.

 charles babbles as you softly sob, “oh charles.”

“it’s alright.” the mans voice spoke, stopping you momentarily. you went silent uncertain exactly anymore of anything. despite everything though you speak up.

 “thank ya’.” your tone hush as if you weren’t bold to speak loud. the man sighs out and you wince.

 “but ya’ gotta get th-thomas.” the words slip out weakly, eyes flutter as they gaze upon the boy. not even noticing he came around the corner. blood soaked and shaken up, trying desperate to stay focused.

 “i’m michael, i’m tommy’s cousin.”

 so simple, which was all that was needed. “y/n solomons.” he helps you up, you lean against the wall as he scoops charles up. “hold onto my arm, there is a car outside.”

 managing to get inside, but once settled your body slumps. you try to stay up, but the tiredness takes over.

 still out not noticing you arriving at the shop, or that michael already took charles inside to the rest of his family. he notified them of you. ada and polly knew for they were the ones who helped you get your clothing.

 thomas spoke of you to arthur once.

 michael ends up carrying your lifeless looking form inside. polly rushing out orders, ada making a place for you to lay. you were set down and polly pushes your hair out of the way examining you, but when she touches you.

 her heart sank. for no reason apparent it just did. 

 “someone call thomas.” and the cheerful glee of happiness of charles was apparent but the dark silent loom of your appearance was one of unease.

 “mum, sh-she helped save him.” he confessed out to polly, who let out a sigh. “well call the damn doctor as well, for christ sakes.”

 your eyes flutter open slowly, “charles?”

 polly grasp your hand, “he’s safe dear, your both safe now.”

 “n-no my head. i can’t my head.” you groan in agony, and your heart aches. “thomas?”

 the room went silent. “tho-thomas?” polly speaks up, “he’s on the way.” yet after those words your eyes roll back. “the doctors on the way!” ada calls out and polly sighs in worry for the girl.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fic #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby angst #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fandom

[fallinallincurls]

Under The Mistletoe (With You)

sooo @tonyspep and i have created this whole verse that you’ve only gotten a taste of so far through my fic without a doubt, my heart will lead me to you (two) and gina’s if home is where the heart is, then i’m homesick for you! this fun little fic is part of the same verse! we don’t get to see the mini macs aka noah, kat or miles here, but this the softest moment of nate and the reading falling in love and i had fun writing this. happy holidays!

there’s PLENTY of background built for this verse already so my asks are open for any and every question in relation to this eek!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.6k

~~~~~

Denver received the season’s first dusting of snow yesterday, signaling winter’s anticipated arrival. It meant the holidays were right around the corner and your favorite day of the year was finally here.

You couldn’t mark the specific date on the calendar, but no matter when the first snowfall happened, it meant you’d be spending the next day decorating the bakery. Stringing up colorful lights, putting gifts under a small tree, hanging ornaments and cutting paper snowflakes. Everything from the display case to the front windows and anything in between got some kind of holiday decoration.

Today was that day. And unlike the last few years where you’ve done it all by yourself, you get to share the tradition with someone else now. Someone you love more than anything. 

“Nate, can you grab the strand of little snowflakes please?” You ask from atop the little step stool you’re currently standing on, a finger pointed at one of the many boxes on the floor. He nods, a soft smile on display across his lips as he finds said snowflakes in the box.

“Where do these go?” The question is gentle like he’s memorizing where every single one of the decorations go so he remembers in the future. That thought alone makes your heart swell. You might have only been dating for a year now, but something about Nate feels like forever. And you’ve never shared decorating the bakery with anyone else, not even your best friend, so the fact he’s here right now with you putting up lights and tiny Christmas trees and making snowflakes is proof he’s special.

“Across the top of all the windows. So it looks like it's snowing.” You reply with a giggle, leaning down to kiss him. “If you want to get started on the other side, we could meet in the middle so that way these are done quicker?”

“Sounds like a plan, babe.” Nate smiles, kissing you one more time before getting to work on the opposite end of the front windows with his own string of snowflakes. The cutest look of concentration crosses over his face as he carefully hangs the decoration and your heart swells at the sight. 

The soft notes of Christmas music fill the bakery and the golden glow of fairy lights make the scene feel even more magical than it usually does. Except you think that has more to do with the man who is taking part in your yearly tradition than anything else. You keep sneaking peeks at Nate, hoping he doesn’t catch you, and it’s another reminder of just how lucky you are.  

He’s humming “Holly Jolly Christmas” to himself as he focuses on decorating, his sweater riding up just enough to expose a sliver of his toned stomach. A long, gold strand of tinsel hangs around his neck and his cheeks are tinted the cutest color pink either from blush or how warm it is in the bakery. There’s that familiar glint of pure joy evident in his blue eyes that not many get to see, but you do and you’re forever grateful for that. 

You almost can’t believe that a year or so ago, Nate was a stranger. Someone who walked into Colorado Cookie Company, shy as anything, to compliment the batch of cookies you made for the Avs charity event. Never in a million years did you think he would become this important, take up this much room in your heart.

And yet, here you are.

“Done!” Nate exclaims, putting his hands up in a mini celebration as he steps off the stool to admire his work. “Not so bad if I do say so myself.”

“Nathan MacKinnon. One of the NHL’s biggest stars and secretly amazing at decorating for the holidays. Quite the tiny snowflake expert.” 

“Hey,” Nate pouts dramatically, picking up on your teasing tone and playing along. You can’t help but giggle at the look on his face but join him to look up at the snowflakes now hanging about the big front windows. 

Before he gets the chance to say anything else in response or think of a comeback, you pull him in for a soft, gentle kiss that speaks volumes without a single word being uttered.

“I love you. Thank you for doing this.” 

Nate is floored. He might still be getting used to the idea of really, truly being in love (although he knows he is) and the kiss might have caught him by surprise, but it just occurs how much this means to you.

Decorating the bakery, a place that’s another home to you, isn’t something to take lightly. This is another step in your relationship, a big one. Nate knew it was important when you invited him to join in on the tradition, but it’s just occurring to him that this is something he could be doing every year for the rest of his life. 

And my god, he wants that so bad.

“I love you too. I’m happy to be here. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” And he means it because every word is true.

The sweetest smile appears on his lips before the two of you share a few more kisses. But you playfully push him away a minute later, your beautiful laugh making Nate undeniably happy.

“Save those for later. We’ve gotta get this done.”

“Okay, okay. What’s next?” Nate questions, following you to another box of decorations where you hand him the small Christmas tree that will be full of holiday wishes soon and a little menorah for the counter.

It only takes a couple more hours of dancing together to whatever Christmas song was playing, sharing kisses and making sure every inch of the bakery was covered in holiday spirit to finish decorating. Even if you do this every year, the final product always takes your breath away. 

“It’s beautiful,” Nate murmurs, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you from behind. A comfortable moment of silence settles as you both take in the scene together. 

“There’s just one thing missing.” 

Nate’s brows furrow in confusion as you leave his tight embrace. What else could possibly be missing? He’s never seen a place as decked out as your little bakery is right now. But before he can say anything in response, you’re holding up a small bundle of mistletoe. 

“Oh,” is all Nate says, the cutest blush spreading across his cheeks. You can’t help but giggle at how bashful he suddenly is.

“Wanna help me hang it up?” You ask in a soft tone. Nate nods, stepping closer and carefully taking hold of the plant. “Right in the doorway.”

Without any other direction, Nate somehow puts the mistletoe in the perfect spot. He flashes a beaming smile towards you, proud of his work, and a feeling of comfort like no other courses through your veins. You rush into him so fast that he lets out a little “oof” at the impact before pulling you in closer as you hug him as tightly as possible.

It isn’t until you look up at him a few moments later, heart full of indescribable love, that you realize where you’re both standing. Under the mistletoe in the doorway. 

“I think,” Nate starts, cheeks becoming pink again as the cutest smile appears on his face, “this is the part where we kiss. Mistletoe and all, you know.” 

“Well then, handsome, what are you waiting for?”

Nate doesn’t waste any time leaning in and closing the space between you. He feels you smiling against his lips as he deepens the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. It’s a kiss like no other and you can’t place why, but you try to commit every detail to memory. The warmth of Nate’s hands on your hips, how you can feel his emotions through the kiss and how at home you feel right now; it’s something you didn’t think you’d ever get to experience. 

When you pull away, you find Nate’s blue eyes full of a kind of fondness you haven’t seen before. He kisses you a few more times underneath the mistletoe, earning warm laughs from you in return.

“I can’t wait to do this with our kids one day.” He says suddenly as you’re carding through his hair. The words shock you for a second before the thought enters your mind. Little feet running around the bakery, helping decorate the small tree and Nate lifting them up to string lights around the windows. Handprint Christmas tree art hanging on the wall next to the family pictures and the sound of happy baby laughs mixed with holiday music. 

You can see it all. And standing here, in Nate’s arms under the mistletoe after sharing one of your dearest traditions with him, makes it feel a little more real.

“Our kids?” You tease him, giggling at the expression on his face.

“Yeah, our kids. Can’t you see it?” The look of love and hope are hard to miss and it’s enough to make those recurring thoughts of spending the rest of your life with him reappear. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, bubs. We’ve got a while to go until we get there.” 

“But we’ll get there?”

“We’ll get there. For now, I’m gonna steal as many mistletoe kisses as I can and decorate the bakery with you until a little one comes along.” You giggle, kissing him again to which Nate sweeps you off your feet and twirls you around to the music still playing. The holidays might be the most wonderful time of the year, but you know with Nate here, it’ll be extra special like never before.

taglist: @tonyspep @miracleonice87 @starshine-hockey-girl @kailyn-writes @happer08 @stroopwaffle8 @nateslehky @rosesvioletshardy @sorryjustafangirl @laurenairay @hockeyunits @musiclove-12 @ilyasorokinn @jostystyles @comphyjost @ya-pucking-nerd @beauvibaby @sourjoonie @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @itrocksmysocks @typical-simplelove @boqvistsbabe @eightmakar @antoineroussel @suitandtys @equallyshaw​ @andreburakozy​ 

#nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #colorado avalanche #nathan mackinnon x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon fluff #hwncloud #mackinnon #fluff

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored [23] - Defeated

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback my loves, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please let me know what you think, thank you! ❤ And as always, thank you @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter and the story!❤

Summary: Courtship is merely a game.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, angst

Word Count: 7100

Series Masterlist

Your brilliant plan of staying away from gossip and keeping your peace of mind only lasted two weeks.

Which, all things considered, was still a success.

But you hadn’t left your house for a month now, and you were growing quite restless about what was happening outside. Unfortunately the outside world shared that sentiment, because according to Cecily, everyone had an idea about why you weren’t seen outside. Heartbreak was the most popular –and correct- theory, not that anyone except your and his family knew for sure, but the rumor mill was spinning with other theories as well.

Apparently some people were thinking that you were secretly wed to Pierre. Others were convinced that you had left for France, some assumed you were in Gretna Green, and some suspected that you had locked yourself in your house because you were with child out of wedlock.

Of course the last one was whispered, seeing that no one wanted to anger your father the duke, or your brother who was to be the duke one day.

But then, the gossip started getting strange;

“Lord Bridgerton's lip might have healed, but that frown appears to be permanent on his face now. Unfortunately, we haven’t got a chance to see Lady Y/N at this ball either, which makes this the tenth ball she hasn’t attended.”

And then it got more unusual;

“This author can hardly believe what her quill is writing, but it seems like Lord Bridgerton has become one of the ladies’ least favorite company. He stares at every ballroom's entrance for the entire night and can barely hold a conversation when he is persuaded by his mother to dance. It hasn’t escaped anyone’s attention that he and Lord Westcliff still are adamant on ignoring each other, and one cannot help but wonder if this quarrel between old friends will ever be solved, considering Lady Y/N is still nowhere to be seen.”

Then just a little detailed;

“The absence of Lady Y/N seems to torment Lord Bridgerton for almost a month now. The infamous rake spent the half of Lord and Lady Moore’s ball in the business room with other men, when he finally decided to grace the ballroom with his presence, he refused to ask any lady on a dance. We are sure that his hopes of catching a glimpse of Lady Y/N on a ball are greater than ours, and if the look of torment on his face is any indication, that hope is the only thing that brings him to these balls.”

And then strange again;

“Miss Cecily was seen shoving both Lord Bridgerton and her betrothed into an empty room during the Ashton Ball. Both men came out two hours later, looking almost neutral towards each other. A stark difference to what we've been witnessing these past few weeks, dare we assume a sign of truce?”

“I can’t believe you did that,” you commented as you put the latest issue of Lady Whistledown’s papers down and Cecily looked up from the last batch of wedding invitations she was working on.

“It worked,” she said before sitting straighter to crack her back, twisting her wrist. “Elias is meeting Lord Bridgerton at the gentleman’s club today—Oh God, I can hardly feel my hand.”

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

“You decided to attend a ball after a whole month,” Cecily reminded you. “Don’t even come closer here before choosing your gown.”

Lucie smiled at you and pulled out a gown, making you shake your head.

“Not that one, I wore that on a picnic with Viscount Bridgerton.”

“Should we burn it then?” Lucie offered and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe?” you said and stole a look at Cecily. “Cece, did you write an invitation for Pierre as well?”

“Oh yes, I’m sending it today,” Cecily said. “That is if I don’t lose my hand by the time this is all finished. Are we sure Stormview Park can hold so many people?”

“Elias says it’s huge, basically a castle,” you said. “And it’s your future house, Cece! Are you excited?”

“I’d live in a barn if it meant I’d be with Elias.” Cecily said with a warm smile on her face. “I couldn’t care less about the house.”

“I don’t think future duchesses live in barns—” you started but was cut off when someone knocked on the door, then opened it.

“I came to see the love of my life before I left,” Elias announced, making Cecily giggle and you smiled at them before taking the gown Lucie was holding out for you.

“Not this one either,” you murmured before giving it back while Elias went to kiss Cecily’s hand.

“Are you tired my angel?”

“Just a little,” Cecily said softly. “It’s alright though.”

“You can just stop it, you know?”

“There are about thirty people left who still haven’t received their last minute invites.”

“Who cares? They can just stay in London if my wife got tired of writing invitations.”

“I’m not your wife yet,” Cecily said with a huge smile and Elias clutched at his chest.

“This time next week you will be,” he said and turned to you. “Chérie?”

“Hm?”

“I fear to ask but why did Saint Mildred’s Convent send you a letter?” he asked, taking out the letter from the inner pocket of his waistcoat and you took it from him, then shrugged.

“I’m considering my options.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked them if I could join.”

Elias looked at Cecily as if she could help him but she just shook her head at him.

“Huh?”

“I’ve sent a lot of letters to convents in Britain and France two weeks ago because I wanted to—”

“I can’t believe I’m actually forming this sentence but you’re not joining a convent, Y/N.”

“I think I could,” you said, opening the letter to skim the lines. “Oh good, they answered all my questions.”

“Can you answer all my questions as well?” Cecily asked. “You know nuns live in those convents, right?”

“Yeah I do.”

“They rarely leave, don’t you want to spend time with our future children?”

Elias snapped his fingers. “Great question, my beautiful wife. What of your future nieces and nephews, Y/N?”

“I could visit!” you insisted. “I would teach them um— whatever it is nuns teach people.”

“…God?” Elias suggested and you nodded, then heaved a sigh by the time you got to the end of the letter.

“Oh no.”

“They didn’t accept you?”

“No they did but I asked them certain questions and apparently, nuns aren’t allowed to style their hair or wear jewelry, they must look modest for—”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yes it is for Jesus Christ.”

“No!” Elias exclaimed, running a hand over his face, then took the letter from you to point at you. “No nunnery for you, young lady.”

“Do you think it’s the same in every convent?”

“Yes it is,” Cecily said. “I don’t think those rules will change no matter how many convents you send letters to.”

Elias shook his head and kissed Cecily’s hand.

“I’m leaving,” he said and came closer to you to press a kiss on top of your head before he walked to the door, then turned around. “And Chérie?”

“Hm?”

“You do realize that nuns wear the same thing every day, right?”

You pulled your brows together. “…Oh.”

“Yeah, you should sit down and think about that,” he said, then walked out of the room. Lucie shot you a look, holding up two gowns, one peach colored and one pale green.

“Should I check whether you have any black gowns and a headpiece to get familiar with them?” she asked you and you shook your head.

“No thank you,” you managed to say. “On a second thought, perhaps a convent might not be the best place for me.”

                                          *

Cecily was so busy with the wedding and you were trying your hardest to help her with whatever you could, at least without going outside. Tonight’s ball was already making you nervous and you didn’t want to be surrounded by people asking you questions earlier than you absolutely had to.

Being alone with your thoughts wasn’t good for you. Every second that you weren’t distracted, your mind wandered off to that night at the opera, and you were starting to believe that you would never be able to erase that from your thoughts.

It was not a good day for you and you expected it, but what you hadn’t expected was what happened in the afternoon.

You were lying on the bed, that heaviness in your heart growing bigger and bigger as you looked up at the ceiling, memories of Anthony occupying your mind until there was nothing left but you were pulled out of your thoughts when Lucie opened the door to step inside. The unusual sour look on her face was not familiar at all so you sat up in bed.

“What happened?”

“There is something I must tell you merely because I’m sure you would like to be made aware, but you must promise me you will not accept it.”

“What?” you asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Promise me first.”

“Tell me first,” you insisted and she heaved a deep sigh.

“You have a visitor.”

“…Who?” you asked after a beat and Lucie clicked her tongue.

“Siena Russo,” she spat. “From the opera.”

You pulled back, gawking at her. Even the name was enough to send a sting of pain through your heart, taking your breath away but you got up from the bed, frowning at her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes and now you know, so I can just send her away—”

“Lucie,” you said, stopping her before she could take another step and she turned to you again to shoot you a look.

“You cannot possibly be considering hearing what she has to say,” she told you and you rubbed at your eyes, trying to think through the turmoil that was currently muddying your thoughts.

“Where is she?”

“Well obviously she couldn’t walk up to the front door because someone would see, so she came to the staff entrance—”

“Please tell me you let her in.”

“The only reason I let her in was that I could make her wait and send her away,” Lucie said, making you tilt your head.

“Lucie, what on earth has gotten into you?”

“You’ve been crying for a month, my lady,” she reminded you. “I’ve been watching you wither away for weeks because of that night, you will have to forgive me if I hold no affections towards her.”

“You don’t know her, neither do I.”

“I do not have to know her, nor do I desire to,” Lucie retorted, making you shake your head. “No honestly, what is it with British and this complete audacity? If we were in France—”

“Take me to her.”

“You are not serious,” Lucie said and you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Lucie, you grew up with me,” you told her. “You were there every step of the way. Look me in the eye and tell me my mother would approve of it if I put the blame on her when you and I both know that it takes two parties to engage in such matters.”

Lucie crossed her arms. “I think your mother would change her mind if she could see how sad you’ve been for the last month.”

“Either way,” you said. “Where is she?”

“Downstairs quarters,” she said, “I told her to wait in my room in case anyone saw her.”

You nodded and threw your shoulders back, straightening your spine. “Please take me to her.”

Lucie heaved a dramatic sigh, but didn’t say anything else as she walked out of the door with you following her. You both made your way downstairs to the foyer before going down the hall that led to the downstairs chambers for the staff, and you descended the stairs, your heart beating in your throat.

“Here,” Lucie said when you reached a door and you knocked on the door before you opened it.

Dear God, she really was beautiful.

The familiar envy spread through you before you frowned, reprimanding yourself in your head. Siena looked at you for a moment before she dropped a curtsy.

“Lady Y/N.”

“Miss Russo,” you greeted her as if your heart hadn’t dropped to your stomach upon seeing her again, then turned to Lucie.

“Lucie, would you please make sure no one disturbs us?”

“Of course,” she said and closed the door behind her, and you took a look around the room before motioning for the two chairs around the small coffee table.

“Please,” you said and she sat down. You hesitated for a moment before taking the seat across from her and a silence fell upon the room. Siena looked as uncomfortable as you were if not more, but before you could even find anything to say, she had already spoken.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

You bit inside your cheek and offered her a small smile.

“Of course,” you said. “What can I help you with, Miss Russo?”

“I wanted to offer my apologies and explanation to you,” she said. “Even if I know that they will not be accepted and I know that you must hate me but—”

“No,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “No reason for you to apologize for anything, and I do not hate you.”

Siena pulled back as if she was surprised and you took a deep breath.

“My mother…” you trailed off. “She used to say that um—she used to say that men turned love and courtship into a game and they designed that game in such a way that they hold all the weighted dice while we have to rely only on our luck to win. I used to believe it was only because she was a sceptic on love, but I know better now. This whole game is rigged, so no. I’m not going to blame you for it Miss Russo.”

Siena stared at you in silence and you let out a bitter laugh.

“Besides,” you said. “Viscount Bridgerton had many outlets to explain himself. It doesn’t sound fair not to give you at least one.”

“What did he say?” she asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“No idea, I haven’t read any of his letters,” you said. “I’d like to hear you first if I’m honest. I do not ask for any explanation you’re not willing to give me though.”

Siena nodded and sat up straighter.

“Lord Bridgerton and I used to have a certain…arrangement,” she managed to say. “I’m sure you’ve heard about it in the last couple of weeks, your brother is his best friend after all.”

“I was told you were his mistress, if you do not mind me put it that way.”

Siena thought for a moment, then nodded her head again.

“For a while yes,” she said. “It was brought to an end per his decision, months ago. I knew it was going to be over before he even put it into words and to be honest with you, I was ready for it.”

“How?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“You just know,” she said. “You know when a man looks at you and sees another, craves another. And you must know that what happened at the opera was not in any way planned, nor was it—” she paused for a moment. “It was a momentary lapse in his judgement and mine, his was fueled by jealousy and mine was fueled by reminiscence.”

“But surely he must love you if he came to you that night,” you said, trying to ignore the way your throat was burning and Siena heaved a sigh.

“He was kissing me, but he didn’t even see me,” she said. “Not really. He ran after you, shouting your name in the hallway, do you think he would do that if it was me who he loved?”

You tried to blink back the tears and shook your head.

“No,” you muttered. “He doesn’t love me. I saw it quite clearly that night.”  

“What you saw was a mistake,” she said. “The Viscount and I are not lovers, and we will not be. There was a time I thought that was possible, but…his heart belongs to you, and my heart no longer belongs to him. It doesn’t belong to anyone but myself, for once.”

You took a shaky breath, staring at her as she smiled again.

“I just thought you would like to know,” she said and you cleared your throat, then stood up.

“Thank you,” you said. “For being kind enough to explain your side of the act, but I’m afraid you’re wrong about one thing.”

“You believe he doesn’t love you,” Siena said and you pursed your lips.

“I know he doesn’t,” you said. “Either way, I’m grateful for your perspective Miss Russo. I wish you a good day.”

You walked to the door but before you could open it, you heard her say your name again.

“I think your mother was right but not completely.”

You turned around. “I’m sorry?”

“She was right,” she said. “About love and courtship. Men did design this game in a way that they hold the weighted dice but I think you’re missing something here.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What am I missing?”

“You’re not relying on only your luck, Lady Y/N. Your brother and father are tilting the game table for your win.”

You bit down on your lip as your eyes started burning again.

“They can’t do that I’m afraid, I already lost,” you said. “I recognize that it might seem trivial to people, but… love for me was the thing I wanted the most in life, and now I know that I will never get it. I lost the minute Viscount Bridgerton joined the game.”

Siena shot you a sympathetic look and you tried to smile.

“I wish you a better luck in love than me, Miss Russo,” you said and opened the door, then walked out of the room without looking back, Lucie following you suit.

                                             *

As much as you would’ve liked to bury yourself under covers and forget about the outside world for the rest of the day, you knew it was impossible. You had already promised Cecily and Elias, and to make things even more interesting, apparently the Duke would be attending with you as well. You could almost hear the chatter that would explode through the ballroom, after all the sight of the Duke never failed to cause surprise, and now that you hadn’t been seen in a month…

You tried to ignore how Anth—Viscount Bridgerton would be there along with his family, but you already had a plan to ignore his whole existence just like you were going to for the rest of your life.

You had to start somewhere, after all.

When the carriage stopped by the Lord and Lady Grove’s house, the music was already reaching outside. Elias had already jumped out of the carriage as soon as it stopped to make his way to the carriage following yours, with Cecily and her family and the Duke stepped down, then helped you out of the carriage.

“Thank you,” you said as you looked up at the house, your breath getting caught in your throat. You were nowhere near ready to socialize, or handle the whispers and glances that would surely be thrown your way but you turned your head when Cecily came to touch the small of your back.

“We’re going inside,”

“We’ll be right there,” the Duke said and Cecily took Elias’s arm, then walked to the house with Hugh shooting you a small smile before following them. You licked your lips, shaking your head.

“Well this feels like the first time I’ve been here,” you commented and the Duke shot you a small smile.

“It will not be that terrible,” he said. “You just need to get through tonight, Stormview will distract them.”

You took his arm and you both started walking to the house.

“How soon can we leave?”

“We have literally not walked inside yet, Y/N.”

“That’s not an answer,” you commented, ignoring the whispers coming from the handful of people that were currently in the hallway, rushing around. You took a dance card from the maid, then pulled your hand from the Duke’s arm to start tying the string around your wrist while you both walked towards the ballroom. “No I’m serious, what would happen if we—”

You stopped talking as soon as you realized how the chatter had stopped the minute you and the Duke stepped into the ballroom, some gasps echoing through the room. You looked up from the card you were currently struggling with to see almost everyone in the ballroom frozen, staring at you and the Duke, making you heave a sigh.

The Duke leaned in slightly so that no one else could hear him.

“One of us will have to pretend to faint, and it’s not going to be me.”

You scoffed a laughter before finally tying the string around your wrist and looked up at him.

“The sooner we start, the sooner we finish,” you murmured, making sure not to look through the crowd and instead fixed the card and small pencil dangling from the string. You didn’t even have to wait a couple of seconds before a familiar accent reached your ears.

“Mademoiselle.”

“Monsieur Allard,” you managed to smile at him. “Hello.”

“I was not sure I would ever be blessed by your presence again,” he said. “Could I perhaps ask for your first dance?”

You opened your mouth but before you had a chance to say anything, the Duke had already spoken.

“Actually Monsieur Allard, my daughter has already promised the first dance to me, but I’m sure she can spare you the second dance?”

Your head shot up and for a moment, you could swear you could hear a pin drop throughout the ballroom before whispers erupted through the crowd. You stared up at the Duke, not even seeing the way Elias was gawking at you both.

His daughter.

He had called you his daughter.

Dancing with you would’ve been enough of a public support, but calling you his daughter?

No matter what you or Elias said, no matter what everyone doubted, this right here would stop the endless chatter and questions about your parentage for good.

His own words.

You blinked a couple of times, questions rushing through your head but you didn’t get a chance to ask any of them before the music started playing and you remembered at the last second that Pierre was there.

“Of—of course,” you said as you took the Duke’s arm and let him lead you to the dance floor before everyone else rushed there as well, trying to stay close. When the music started, you almost moved automatically, then looked up at him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did,” the Duke said, “It’s no favor, Y/N. It’s your birthright, and is what you were owed.”

You pulled your brows together. “But I was under the impression…”

“I thought you, me and Elias knowing it would be enough,” he said. “That we did not owe the ton any explanation about anything especially after what happened. My apologies that it took me this long to realize just how wrong I was.”

You let out a breath and stepped back, then stepped forward again.

“I also apologize for the chaos this is going to start.”

“Chaos?” you asked and he nodded.

“Starting as of now, every unmarried lord in the ton is your suitor. I’m guessing you will get about… five proposals tonight, give or take.”

You scoffed a laugh. “What?”

“Mm hm. They are all intimidated by me, so I’m guessing they will go to Elias. Good. It will be enough of a practice for when his future daughters make their debuts.”

“I doubt that’s the case.”

“You’ll see,” the Duke said. “Are you ready for Stormview?”

“I don’t remember anything about it but yes. Elias speaks highly of it.”

A painful smile pulled at his lips.

“You were born there,” he said. “Has your mother ever told you that?”

You had no idea why your eyes were burning again. “She did,” you said. “I was told you weren’t there though.”

That seemed to make him fall silent for a moment.

“I was not,” he said. “I was here in London.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.”

“Y/N, I don’t ask for your forgiveness,” he managed to say. “You’re too much like your mother, I know what it means. You will not forgive or forget, all I ask of you is to be involved in your life somehow. That’s all.”

You swallowed thickly and let out a breath as the music came to a stop, then you dropped a curtsy, offering him a small smile.

“Can I think about it?”

“As long as you want,” he said and you nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, stepping away from him, then turning around to make your way through the crowd—

You saw him too late, but the sight of him was enough to make you stop dead in your tracks. Anthony looked as frozen as you were, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he couldn’t see anyone else in the ballroom, as if you were the only person in there. You could feel your throat tightening but you managed to overcome your shock before he did, and started walking again.

“Y/N—” your name left his lips like a prayer but you paid no mind to it as you walked past him without so much as sparing him a glance, as if you weren’t even aware of his presence. His scent lingered in your lungs as soon as you took a breath but you gritted your teeth, then made your way to the refreshments table.

“Is this a phantom I see?” Hugh’s voice reached you, making your head snap up and you tried to get out of the haze you were in, throwing your shoulders back.

“I’ve decided to haunt the ballrooms and thought this one would be a nice start,” you pointed out, making him smile.

“You might be the most beautiful phantom this ballroom has ever seen, then.”

“I’m the only phantom this ballroom has ever seen.”

“We don’t know that,” he said, winking at you. “Any particular reason you’ve picked ballrooms of all places to haunt?”

“Oh yes,” you said. “I couldn’t think of a more miserable place for me to be.”

Hugh shot you a small grin. “Could’ve been worse.”

“How?”

“You could’ve been your brother,” he pointed at Elias who was listening to a lord with a frown on his face. “I should probably ask Cece for a dance, otherwise she won’t be able to dance tonight. Her betrothed will be too busy with your wave of suitors—speaking of, any chance you’d like to spare me a dance?”

“Yes please,” you said and handed him your dance card so that he could write his name.

“There you go. Now you won’t be dancing with strangers the whole night.”

“Do you really think—”

“Mm hm. Wave of suitors, I’m telling you.”

“I thought you were also my suitor,” you joked as you took your card from him and his grin widened.

“Right. I thought we ended our courtship.”

“What made you think that?”

“The fact that you’re mourning after another man?”

You tilted your head. “Hugh.”

“Don’t even give me that,” he said. “We are to be family and I know a heartbroken woman when I see one.”

You heaved a sigh and shrugged your shoulders.

“He looks absolutely miserable by the way—” Hugh pointed out but before he could say anything else, you heard Lady Miriam’s voice.

“Lady Y/N,” she said as she grabbed a drink. “How nice of you to grace the ton with your presence. We were beginning to think we wouldn’t be seeing you until the next season.”

Hugh raised his brows, looking between you and her.

“Something looks different about you,” Lady Miriam said as if she wasn’t aware of what had happened, as if the whole ton didn’t know. “Perhaps unhappiness. Whatever it is I hope it lasts, it becomes you.”

You were way too tired to even come up with a retort. “Have a nice night, Lady Miriam.”

She eyed you up and down, then walked away from you while Hugh stole a look at you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I don’t want to say anything,” you said with a bitter chuckle. “I have been here for less than ten minutes and I am already exhausted, I am not going to get into arguments.”

Hugh heaved a sigh and leaned in slightly so that you could hear him better.

“As the only unmarried man who’s not planning on asking for your hand in marriage here, can I say something that everyone in this ballroom can see?”

“By all means.”

“Even heartbreak isn’t powerful enough to take anything from you,” he said. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

You rolled your eyes and offered him a small smile.

“Liar.”

“Never,” he said as someone touched your arm, making you turn around to see Eloise and Penelope. Eloise pulled you into a hug as if she couldn’t care less about decorum and you hugged her back tightly before pulling back to hug Penelope.

“I missed you two.”

“And we missed you!” Eloise said and pushed at your arm. “Dear God, disappearing off the face of the earth for a month? What were you thinking?!”

“I needed some time, but I’m alright now.”

Eloise raised her brows and clicked her tongue. “That makes one of you, I suppose.”

“Don’t.”

“That’s what I said,” Hugh pointed out and Penelope nodded.

“I think it’s visible to everyone in the ballroom, Y/N.”

“Will you not tell me what happened?” Eloise asked and you shook your head.

“None of it matters anymore,” you said. “What’s happened, happened. No amount of talk will change anything, so I would rather not speak of it.”

The musicians started the music for the second dance and you saw Pierre over Eloise’s shoulder, then turned to smile at her.

“I promised to dance with Pierre but afterwards we can talk?”

“Absolutely,” Eloise said and you kissed her cheek, then squeezed at Penelope’s arm before making your way to Pierre.

“Monsieur Allard.”

“Mademoiselle,” he offered you his arm. “Shall we?”

                                   *

You had forgotten how smothering these balls could get sometimes. Your dance card was full but thankfully, you had some time between this dance and the next, and everyone’s glances and whispers were starting to feel like too much. You excused yourself and stepped out of the ballroom, the cool air filling your lungs as you walked away from the house deeper into the garden. The silence that surrounded you the more distance you put between you and the house felt like a bliss and you closed your eyes when you reached the small gazebo surrounded by the trees, resting your palms on the cool marble.

It was strange really. This whole thing used to be so much fun for you, especially while you were—

While you thought you were courting with Viscount Bridgerton. Apparently you couldn’t have been more wrong.

It was a game for him, it had to be. Just like what Simon had told him while you were in Anthony’s study, it was a game.

The worst part was that, you couldn’t even blame anyone. Elias had warned you, Cecily had warned you, even Anthony himself had said you were playing with fire and now here you were, completely heartbroken.

You were beginning to think you were going to be this miserable for the rest of your life, and even the mere idea was enough to make you want to curl up and cry.

“Y/N.”

Speaking of things that made you want to curl up and cry…

A painful smile curled your lips and you opened your eyes, then turned your head to look at Anthony. He looked almost pinned to his spot, his gaze fixed on you as if he couldn’t believe he was alone with you, seeing you after a month.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” you greeted him and he swallowed thickly, then took a step towards you, making you step back.

“I think it’s better to keep the distance.”

“Y/N please, I…” he took a deep breath. “I must explain myself and my actions.”

You raised your brows, that bitter smile appearing on your lips again and a silence fell upon you until he spoke again.

“I thought you accepted Allard’s courtship.”

You frowned, keeping your silence.

“That night,” he elaborated, his dark eyes flitting over your face as if he was trying to read your mind. “At the opera. We—we’d already had that quarrel and you said you didn’t want to see me again, and all of a sudden Pierre was sitting right beside you on the Avon Box, your family box. The whole reason Cecily was sitting there was to announce their engagement and when I saw him sitting there I thought—I thought you accepted him.”

“Oh,” you said after a beat. “That’s the excuse?”

“Not an excuse,” Anthony shook his head. “I know that nothing I could ever say or do could excuse my actions of late.”

“Then why are you here?” you asked him, your voice completely detached of any emotions except a slight curiosity. “I don’t suppose anything I’ve done in the last month gave you the wrong impression of me asking for any explanation from you.”

He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head.

“No,” he said. “No, of course it didn’t.”

You shrugged your shoulders, keeping your gaze on him.

“I would’ve read your letters if I wanted to hear an excuse or an explanation,” you muttered. “I don’t know if Elias told you but—”

“He did,” he said in a haste. “I know you didn’t read any of them. Both Elias and Lady Danbury informed me of it.”

“I’ve also asked Lady Danbury to give you a message,” you said. “That I thought it would be better if we didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence, did you not receive it?”

“…I did, yes.”

“Yet here you are. Acknowledging my presence and making me acknowledge yours.”

He took a step towards you like he couldn’t stop himself, like he was drawn to you beyond his control.

“My love, if I—”

“Don’t call me that again please,” you cut him off, “You don’t even know what that means.”

The music coming from the house was the only thing you could hear for a moment before you spoke again.

“There’s nothing left to talk about, despite what you might think. To me it’s very simple, you see. I would never be able to do that to you no matter what, and if you could do that to me…” you trailed off and let out a breath. “In any case, it doesn’t matter anymore. None of this matters, really, not when it will all be behind me soon.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You’re not really joining a convent are you?”

“No.”

“Because today Elias said you got a letter from—”

“I’m getting married this season I think,” you cut him off and he pulled back as if you had just slapped him. Even in the dim light of the garden you could see the look of pain and panic crossing his face and he let out a breath.

“No you…Y/N, you can’t—marry who?”

“I don’t know yet,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Someone in that ballroom I’m guessing.”

His frown deepened, and for a second you remembered how you used to long to reach up to smooth those lines between his brows, a lump growing bigger in your throat.

“But you don’t love any of them—”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “No I don’t. I love you actually, but it makes no difference.”

That seemed to do the trick. Viscount Bridgerton, the man who had an answer to everything, always ready to argue with you was, for once in his life you were guessing, speechless. You tried to offer him a smile, as painful as it felt.

“I find it very foolish when people try to act as if nothing happened,” you said softly. “Elias does that, pretending that way and it’s so stupid. I mean you know what happened, I know what happened, why try to deceive each other more than we already have? What’s the point?”

“…You love me?” his voice was a mere whisper, like he feared it would all disappear if he spoke louder than that and you nodded.

“Yes. It’s very sad when you think about it so I try not to think about it. It changes nothing.”

He was breathing fast now. “Y/N, it changes everything.”

“You don’t get to decide whether it changes anything or not, I do,” you pointed out. “For what it’s worth, I should probably thank you.”

He stared at you, at loss for words.

“Thank me for what?”

“You cured me of this childish obsession of having a love marriage,” you said, blinking back the tears. “A lot of people tried to convince me before you but you are the only one who succeeded so…”

He shook his head, swallowing thickly. “Don’t say that,” he said. “Please don’t say that.”

You raised your brows before clearing your throat.

“Anyway, dragging this out seems like a waste of time when I already have suitors so by the end of the season I should be married and start working on my family. I really want to have children you see, I’ve always wanted a big family so as soon as I find an adequate life partner—”

“An adequate life partner?” he sounded out of control. “Can you hear yourself right now?”

“Can you?” you asked back. “Why are you here, really?”

“You know why.”

You pursed your lips.

“I think I want to go back to the ballroom now,” you said and took a step but he grabbed at your wrist, making you turn around.

Dear God, even your body had missed his touch.

Tears rushed to your eyes as the memories hit you out of nowhere, memories of how happy you had been just being in his arms, being close to him, his scent filling your lungs, almost luring you.

“You’ve lost your mind if you believe even for a second that I will let you marry anyone when I know you love me,” he said through his teeth and your eyes snapped up to his but before you could even say anything, someone else had already talked.

“Lord Bridgerton, unhand my daughter at once.”

Your head whipped around and your breath got caught in your throat. Anthony’s jaw clenched as he looked at the Duke, then slowly pulled his hand back, making you already crave his touch even though you tried your hardest not to.

“Your Grace, we were just—” you started but he waved a hand in the air.

“No harm done, Y/N. Go back to the ballroom, alright?”

You looked between them before turning to the Duke. “Um—”

“Lord Bridgerton and I will have a conversation that’s long overdue,” he answered your unasked question and you took a shaky breath, then nodded and started making your way back to the house.

It was only when you entered the ballroom that you realized your cheeks were wet with tears and you rushed to an empty hallway, wiping at your eyes.

“Y/N?” Elias’s voice reached you. “I’m hiding from your suitors, we can do that together if you want. Are you…”

He couldn’t get to finish his sentence when you turned around and rushed into his arms. He hugged you as soon as you did, holding you tight as he rubbed your back.

“Hey,” he said. “Chérie, what happened?”

A sob escaped from your throat as you buried your face into his chest.

“He will never leave my heart,” you managed to say, “No matter who I marry, he will never leave my heart Elias.”

                                                *

Dear Reader,

There were many revelations at last night’s ball, ones that I’m sure will change the course of the rest of the season. We could barely pay any attention to our Marquess and soon to be Marchioness Westcliff whose wedding is fast approaching, in fact, we couldn’t even pay attention to the unfortunate members of the ton who didn’t receive their invites to the exclusive marriage celebrations at the Duke’s country estate, Stormview Park, which already promises to hold many entertainments.

No, none of that mattered last night when the Duke of Avon publicly recognized Lady Y/N as his daughter, proving to the ton once and for all that the late duchess was right and that there are still secrets within this family that are kept very dear to heart, away from the ton. Lady Y/N, who we hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing for the last month finally graced us and her seem to be former lover Lord Bridgerton with her presence.

We are sure that with this last revelation from her father, and how every single gentleman in the ballroom seemed to be in a haste to talk to her brother, she will be shooting through the marriage mart like a comet in these following days.

Now, they say all is fair in love and war, and Lady Y/N and Lord Bridgerton showed to the ton last night that love is as unpredictable as war. Her days spent in the peacefulness of her home seemed to have changed Lady Y/N’s battle strategy, and last night gave the ton a surprise, dear readers, one that this author never thought she would see:

A conqueror from Paris has brought London’s most notorious rake to his knees on the most important battlefield of all; love.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers.

“Chérie?” Elias’s voice made your head snap up from the paper and you turned around.

“Yes?”

“They loaded all the chests to the carriages, come on. Time to go.”

You heaved a sigh and folded the paper, then put it on the vanity and walked out of the room with him. You both made your way downstairs and out of the house, the sunlight falling upon you and Elias turned to you.

“Ready for Stormview?”

“Absolutely,” you said, trying to smile. “Let’s get you married, shall we?”

Chapter 24

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[andydrysdalerogers]

Cross-Checked ~ Chapter 12

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!. 

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world., 

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again? 

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter Eleven - What a Wonderful World - Andy/Leia

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter Twelve - Laying it All on the Line - Leia

Leia 

22 Weeks 

New Years Eve 

“I hate this.”  

“Princess...” 

“Andy, can’t we just stay home?” I was feeling extra pregnant at the moment. The black dress I had chosen accomidated my bump but I felt as big as a house.  And I knew this wasn’t the end.  I was only 22 weeks pregnant.  

“We promised your brother Miranda and Stella that we would do dinner. We can skip the club for sure and be back before midnight but do this for your brother, please?” 

“Fine,” I grumbled. I went back into the closet and slipped on the dress. I frowned as I looked in the mirror. I turned each way and you could only really see my bump in profile but I was still self conscious.  

“You look beautiful, princess.” Andy stood in the doorway.  “C’mon.”  He took my hand and out into the cold December night we went.  The night was clear and cold and I stared out the window. My mind drifted to the week before.  

Flashback – Christmas eve 

He’s kissing me.  

Andy Barber is kissing me.  

His lips are as soft as pillows.  So is his beard. He’s soft, warm and intoxicating. And I don’t want this to stop. My eyes are closed because this has to be a dream. 

He finally pulls back and chuckles. “Open your eyes princess.”  

My eyes open wide, not sure what just happened. “What are we doing?” I whispered. “Why...” the question dies in my mouth as he kisses me again and I melt into it. He moved his hands, one to the back of my head, the other on my lower back, pulling me as close as he could with our daughter in between. He lets go so we can breath but our foreheads still touching. “Andy...” 

“I want you Leia. Fuck I’ve always wanted you.” His breath is slightly ragged as he was still catching his breath, same as I was.  Except now I had more confusion.  

“But you were with...” 

“I know, I know. It was because I was lost when you were with that jackoff and I thought I had lost my chance.” Andy pulled back to look at me and he cupped my cheek. “I thought I couldn’t have this. I thought that it would tear our friendship apart. That Luke would get pissed.” His hand moved and laid across my belly. “But then we heard her heartbeat today. You called me her dad. And I said, fuck it. I want you. I want your daughter to mine as well.”  

I stared at him. “You’re ok that this baby isn’t yours?”  

“She isn’t mine biologically, but you can’t say she isn’t mine in my heart. Please Leia, tell me I’m not alone in this? Tell me you want to give us, the real us, a chance. I don’t just want to be an on paper partner and father.  I want to be yours and for you to be mine. I want to be this little girl’s father.” 

The goddamm hormones make everything worse. Because I start crying and I could see the panic forming in Andy’s eyes.  “Andy,” my voice wobbles, “it’s always been you.”  

“Thank fuck,” he breathes before taking my face in his hands and kissing me just as soft but urgently. “How long?” he asks.  

“Since I was 14 and you came home from college and I knew I wanted you but I figured I was just your best friend’s sister and you would never see me that way.”  

He shakes his head and chuckles. “The thanksgiving trip?” I nod and he chest rumbles. “I mean, I would have had to wait until you were 18 to do anything but I’ve wanted you since the same day.” He hugs me and lifts me into his lap. “You’re mine, Princess. You and our baby are mine and I am never letting go.”  

Present  

“Leia, sweetheart, are you ok?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re a million miles away, love. What’s going on? Is it the baby?” I can hear the concern laced in his voice.  

“No, babe, not the baby, just thinking about Christmas Eve. I can’t believe we are here. I smile at him. Are we going to tell them tonight? 

“Only if you want, Princess.” He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “I’ll do whatever you want.” 

“That’s a lie.” I pouted at him. "You didn’t let me have french toast this morning and you are making go out tonight.” I tried to let go of his hand but he gripped me a little tighter. 

“You need to watch the sugar and salt consumption because of your blood pressure, love. And you made these arrangements.” He smiled. “I thought you wanted to tell them about the baby. You haven’t seen your brother since before Christmas.”  

“You care more about your daughter than me.” The petulance was real.  

“Princess, c’mon, you know that’s not true.” Andy tugged my hand so I would look at him. “You know that you are my priority until the little princess comes home.”  

“And that’s the other thing! You keep calling her princess and that’s my name.” I know, I know, I sound like a brat but I really didn’t want to go out tonight.  I had heard from some of the other team members that he would be there and I would rather not. But, I also couldn’t tell Andy or he would lose his mind.  

“Okkkk,” Andy extended the k for a bit. “Tell me what’s really going on. Because I’m pretty sure you liked that I called you both my princesses yesterday.”  

“I just like being in our bubble ok,” I grumbled. “If we don’t leave then we’re happy. Out there,” pointing out the window, “is just evil.”  

“Sweetheart, I know the press wasn’t kind to you before but I will protect you from everything. Let’s just celebrate the new year because this year is when everything changes. And I want to celebrate that I got the girl, I’m gonna be a dad and we’re gonna win the cup.” He pulled up to the restaurant and the valet moved to open the doors. “My beautiful girl,” he cupped my cheek, “everything is going to be ok.”  

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” He looked at me fondly. “How about this, you are my queen now and you are carrying my princess. Is that better?”  

“Yes, I love that.”  

“Ok, now, lets go celebrate us and our baby and the new year ok?” I nodded and smiled. “Good.” He kissed my nose and got out as the valet opened my door.  

Inside the restaurant, it was decorated with twinkle lights, making it sparkle. The Bruins had rented out the space for the team, making sure that there was a press line but then complete privacy.  Luke had snagged a table towards the back, knowing that it was harder to be up front for me. He was good like that.  

“Cubby!” My brother stood to embrace me. “Baby girl, you grew. Ow!” He yelped as Miranda stood up next to him. “What did I do?” 

“Never tell a woman she’s gotten big, jerk.” She elbowed him out of the way for a hug. “Leia, you look gorgeous.”  

“Thanks Miranda. Hi Stella!” I hugged my best friend.  

“So tell us! What is baby Cubby?” Miranda asked. She took Luke’s hand.  

“So Baby Cubby is a baby girl,” Leia said softly. The table cheered and drew the attention of the rest of the team.  

“My sister is have a girl!”  Everyone cheered and raised their glasses to salute the Andrews on the happy news.  Once all of the cheers subsided, we ordered food and drinks (a cranberry sprite for me) and chatted about Luke and Miranda’s Christmas in New York and Stella’s Christmas in San Francisco with her family. Andy casually placed his arm behind my chair and let his fingers dance over my arm. I smiled as I absorbed the tingles that rushed over my skin.  

After a while, I had to excuse myself for the restroom.  I got up and went to the bar where the bathrooms were. This kid kept fluttering near my bladder and I read that this was a new hell I would have to endure to bring her into the world.  As I left the restroom, I was looking at the old photos hanging in the hallway.  I wasn’t paying attention before I bumped into something. “Oh god, sorry.”  

“My mis... Leia.”  

I looked up to see him. I hadn’t seen him since that dinner almost a month ago. I wasn’t allowed to fly anymore and my assistants were taking care of the ice and locker room photos.  I stayed in my office, banned from being on the lower level by management and the captain.  

“Hi Jeremy.” This was awkward. I stood there for a moment, with him just staring at me. I felt uncomfortable so I started to move away. “Happy New Year.”  

“You move fast.” I turned back to him.  

“Excuse me?” 

He snorted. “Don’t play stupid, Leia. You’re with Andy, aren’t you?” A few of the players heads turn and I see Linus Ullmark take a couple of steps forward.  To protect me or protect Jeremy, I wasn’t sure.  

But Jeremy’s accusation made me flush. “Why do you care?” I said loudly, my voice creeping up with each sentence. "You didn’t want me, remember?  You slept with someone else, remember? You told me you couldn’t handle my situation and I walked away. Whether or not I’m with someone else is none of your business. You made that painfully clear.”  

“Leia,” Linus said softly, touching my arm. “Please, be calm. For the baby.”  

I shook him off. My heart was pounding in my chest. I needed to get out of there now. But I needed to say one more thing. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going back to dinner with my family.  The ones who accepted me for who I am and what I am going through and have my back.”  

I turned and walk away, ignoring all of the other players. I saw Andy rushing towards me and I walked right into his arms. “Baby, are you ok?” He cupped my face to look me over and then over my head. He growled and turned to see Jeremy staring at us. “C’mon, my queen.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me back to the table.  

Luke, Miranda and Stella were gone from the table, probably talking to the team on the other side of the restaurant. Andy trailed his fingers down my back to calm me. “I should have ignored him,” I said, exhausted.  

“Did he say something?” 

“Just insinuating that I moved on quickly. Probably thinks I’m whoring myself out.”  

Andy stiffened next to me.  “Did he say that?” 

I shook my head, “no, but you know everyone will think that.”  

“Baby, if they have a problem with us, they can come talk to me.” Andy brushed a curl away from face. “I went for the girl and there is nothing wrong with it because we were both single.” I looked down and he raised my chin up. “You are so beautiful, my queen.”  

“Andy, honey, just tell me that every thing will be ok? That she will come into the world and everything will be fine. That you and I are going to be fine.”  

“My queen, everything will be fine. Our daughter will come into the world, we’ll bring her home and one day, I’ll put a ring on your finger and make you mine forever.” I smiled big and he leaned in and gave me one of his sweet kisses.  

“What the fuck is going on?” 

Andy pulls away a little and leans on my shoulder. I close my eyes. “If I just close them, maybe I’ll wake up at home,” I whispered.  I felt Andy shake from laughter, before he lifted his head and looked at Luke.  Stella and Miranda were behind him, sporting matching shit eating grins.  

“Hey man. How’s it going?” Andy asked very nonchalantly. I looked at Andy with narrowed eyes for his cockiness and the blinked, swallowed and looked at my brother.  

Luke has never really been mad at me.  I broke his toy race car once, getting it accidentally ran over in the street. I burst into tears because I thought he would be so mad at me. Instead, he wrapped his arm around me and said, “Its ok, Cubby, its just a toy.” My brother has always had a temper with everyone else but me. And right now he has a look, I’ve never seen before: betrayal. 

“Lukey, I’m sorry,” I start. But he holds up his hand and I try to swallow back my tears.  

“How long?” He asked.  

“Since Christmas,” I said.  

He bowed his head and I move to let go of Andy’s hand but he grips me tighter. I just want to hug my brother but Andy is fearful of his reaction. He doesn't want me or the baby to get hurt. “Luke, I...” 

“It took you long enough, asshole.” Luke lifts his head and smiles at Andy and I’m stunned.  I look at Andy and his face looks like mine.  

“What?” 

“You have been pining for my sister for years.  If you thought you were cool about it, you were not.” Luke laughs. “I thought you would man up years ago but instead you started with the she-devil.” 

“What the fuck?” Andy blows out a breath. “You knew?” 

“The whole world knew.” Luke turns to me and can see a tear escape. “Oh, Cubby.” He came to kneel in front of me. “If I could pick anyone in the world for you, why wouldn’t I pick the second best man I know?” 

“Second?” I hiccup.  

“Dad was the best man I know.” He wipes away the tear. “I love you and only want what’s best for you Leighton.” He kisses my forehead and I collapse in his arms for a hug.  He holds me as he tells Andy, “you hurt her and what happened to Swayman will be easy compared to what I’ll do to you.”  

Andy smiled. “Not even something you need to worry about Luke.” Luke kept his arms around me as they shook hands.  

As midnight counted down, Andy held me in his arms. He looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. “My queen, I love you,” he whispered before kissing me at midnight.  

I love this man with everything I have. 

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #cross checked #found family #pregnancy #best friends are idiots #best friends to lovers #brothers best friend #best friends sister #hockey au #idiots in love #andy barber fiction #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber au #chris evans fanfiction #NHL au #boston bruins au #andy barber fanfic #andy barber x ofc #andy barber #jeremy swayman #swayman #goalie obsession #barber vs swayman #the competition for Leighton's heart

[keiththecat]

Admissible (Part Five)

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader (You)

Summary: You've always hunted alone. That is, until Bobby sends you on a hunt near the Winchester brothers. How will things change when they come to help?

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, series typical violence and monsters, weapons, cursing, groping/ almost sexual assault, self-doubt/ self-esteem issues, character death, injuries, hurt/comfort

Author's Note: Here's part five! A bit shorter than usual, and I'm hoping to have another one to you all later this week to make up for it. Hope you're enjoying so far! Feel free to message me if you have any questions or concerns about anything. Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and thanks for all the love so far! <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

Part One

AO3 link here

You sit for a few moments, feeling like your brain has shut off and time has stopped. I have to tell them. But what if we’re being watched here? What if our phones are being watched?

Calmly, as if nothing has happened, you get up from your seat and walk to the library. You find some paper and a pencil, then set out to find either of the Winchesters. Castiel, if you’re available and can be discrete, we might need some help at the bunker.

You’re walking down the hallway toward the bedrooms when Sam comes out of his room and notices you. “Hey, settling in okay?”

“Yeah, this place is great. Actually, I’m glad I found you, can I get your help with something?” Stay calm, act normal.

“Sure, what’s up?” He asks.

“I need to grab a few things first, but can you show me to the shower room again? This place is huge.” Surely if there are cameras here, there won’t be any in the bathroom.

“Sure, no problem,” He gives you a smile.

“Great, thanks. Give me a second.” You step into your room, leave your phone on your bed, and grab some clothes and a towel, tucking your paper and pencil inside. “Okay, I’m ready. Lead the way?”

Sam nods, leading you down the hall. When you get to the door of the shower room, he stops and gestures, “here you go.” 

You wrap a hand behind his neck, pulling him down so your lips meet. Catching him by surprise, it takes a moment before he kisses you back, but once he snaps out of it, he is kissing you with fervor and grabbing your hips to pull you even closer. As his tongue works its way into your mouth, your arms wrap around his neck and you use them to pull him with you into the shower room. Once the door closes behind him, you reluctantly pull back and place a finger on his lips. He opens his eyes to look at you in confusion, lips swollen and reddened from your attack. God, I want to do that more. I hope Dean is right, and I really hope kissing him like this doesn’t ruin my chances. You gesture with your finger for him to wait, and you grab your paper to write a message: “Please trust me. Don’t speak yet. Turn your phone off.”

He reads the message with furrowed brows, and you look at him with pleading eyes. He nods, doing as you asked. You write another message: “Cameras in here?” He shakes his head no. You turn on one of the showers, hoping it’ll swallow any noises that could be picked up from the hallway.

“Okay, I definitely want to talk more about that kiss later,” you keep your voice low. “But I needed to get you in here because I think someone might be watching us, or at least me. The bunker does have security cameras, right?”

“Oh- uh- yeah, yeah it does,” Sam stutters out, his brain trying to catch up, “Everywhere except the bathrooms and bedrooms.”

“Do they have audio?”

He shakes his head, “no, just video.”

“Okay, good,” you turn off the shower. “I got a call from an unknown number and I didn’t recognize the voice, it said ‘vedimus te. Venimus ad vos.’ But it wasn’t even like the voice came from the phone, it felt like it came from my head.”

“Shit,” Sam runs his hands through his hair. “Can you think of anything that would be after you?”

“No,” you answer, “nothing big, anyway. I don’t make a habit of going after the big stuff, that’s more your thing.”

“Well- yeah, that’s fair. If it is something big, it would have to be really big to get in here past the wardings-”

You cut him off, “-unless it managed to power down the wardings when it hacked the cameras. Also the voice said ‘we,’ I’m thinking it isn’t working solo.”

“Okay, so multiple somethings speaking Latin that can see inside the bunker and they are coming for you. We need to let Dean know.” He pulls out his phone, turning it back on.

“Sam, what if they’re watching your phones?”

“We have a code, don’t worry, Y/N.” He says, texting Dean. “I’m thinking that if we can get Cass here, he can blow out the cameras. That way, no one sees us turning them off and we have something to blame it on.”

“Okay, but what if that makes them come inside the bunker since they don’t have eyes on us anymore?”

“Well,” he says with determination shining in his eyes, “we’ll just have to be armed and as ready as we can be. Plus, we’ll have backup.”

“What if it’s not enough though, Sam? We don’t even know what they are. I don’t want you guys to get hurt because of me. I mean, they called me, not either of you. What if I go find them, give them what they want-”

“No,” he stops you, placing his hands on either side of your face, “absolutely not, Y/N. We can handle whatever this is, but we’ll handle it together.”

You stare into his eyes, tears forming in yours at how sweet and selfless Sam is. One tear manages to escape, rolling down your cheek until he wipes it away with his thumb, and then his lips are back on yours. The kiss is sweet but strong, your feelings for each other pouring into the passionate embrace. He pulls away slightly, placing his forehead against yours. “We can talk later about that kiss, too,” he says, grinning.

You smile and nod, pulling away and wiping your face for any other tears. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Sam’s phone dings, signaling that he got a text. “Cass is here. You ready?” he asks.

You reach out, taking his hand. “Let’s do this.” He squeezes your hand, leading the both of you out into the hallway and toward the War Room. Dean and Castiel are standing there. Cass gives you a small nod when you enter, and Dean looks at your hand in Sam’s, a small grin forming on his lips. Sam nods at Cass, whose eyes then shine with a bright white light, and you see sparks flying from several spots on the walls.

“All cameras in the bunker have been destroyed,” Cass affirmed, his eyes returning to their normal blue. His head tilts to the side and his brows furrow, “the wardings are down. Do you all have weapons?” 

In response, the brothers each draw their pistols. “Shit,” you respond, “my stuff is in my bag in my room.” You drop Sam’s hand and jog down the hall, heading for your room to grab your weapons and cell phone. You grab your usual knives and pistol, but your phone rings with another unknown number as soon as your hand touches it. Coincidence or can they somehow still see me? But Sam said there weren’t cameras in the bedrooms.

You lift the phone, intending to answer it, but you hear a breath behind you. Shit. As you turn to face your attacker, you feel a sting in the side of your neck. Your hand instinctively goes to the spot, finding a syringe. Your vision immediately blurs, your muscles seem to turn to liquid, and you collapse. You register a blurred figure bending over you before you lose consciousness.

*

Feeling halfway between awake and asleep, your limbs dangle lifelessly and feel as if they are made of lead. You’re being carried over someone’s shoulder. Staying as limp as you can manage in the hopes of not alerting your attacker, you struggle to pry your eyes open slightly. Seeing that it is too dark to make out any surroundings, you let them drift closed again. Your thoughts feel like they’re moving through molasses, and awareness slips through your grasp again.

Part Six

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #female reader #supernatural #sam winchester x you #sam x you #supernatural imagine #spn #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #bobby singer #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fic #sam x y/n #pov you #keiththecat #spn imagine

[nekoannie-chan]

Opportunity

Opportunity

Title: Opportunity.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Pre-serum!Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 322 words.

Square: B2 “Pre-serum Steve.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You were looking for Steve to join the army.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo round 3. SB3090.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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You read the forms Steve had filled out in different places, then you saw the photographs, and finally Erskine.

“Are you sure about this, doctor? “you questioned, your voice sounding skeptical.

“He's the one we need to test the serum," Abraham confirmed.

“There are other candidates; I'm not sure he'll stand up to the experiment." You had too many doubts, the main one being the reason why the doctor wanted to send you to find Steve.

**

You closed your bag after taking out the paper where Steve's address was written down. You turned to see the street sign; it seemed that you were close. You didn't know the place; maybe you should ask. You approached a lady who was arranging fruit.

“Excuse me, do you know how to get to this address?"

The woman gave you directions; you only had to walk two more streets. You looked for the number of Steve's flat and knocked on the door.

Steve was startled when he heard the knock on his door. He hoped it wasn't some debt collector; sometimes they wanted to trick him by telling him he had to pay his mother's outstanding bills, but he had taken care of that several years before, and now he was living debt-free.

When he opened the door, he was speechless. He wasn't expecting anyone, but he didn't think he was going to meet you either.

“Are you Steve Rogers? “you asked, although you knew that if it was him, you simply wanted to confirm it.

“It's me."

“You are to attend the army post on Monday, as indicated on the paper," you informed him.

“Did they accept me?“ Steve asked.

“Of course, and if all goes well, we can go for ice cream together afterwards," you proposed.

"But I can't eat ice cream."

“If you join the army, you can," you assured him.

Maybe it wasn't so bad working with Dr. Erskine after all.

#steve rogers bingo round 3

[lookatmetv]

Episode 1 : First impression

??? : to be honest , i don't think any of them are going to get the prize 

??? : Are you talking to yourself again?

??? : can we kick him out already  

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ starting in 1...2...3 ]

[ Crystal choi and diego kang waving at the camera ]

Crystal: Hello everyone, and welcome to LookatmeTV, the reality program that we have been working on for a long time and is now here. It is a great honor for me and-

DG: Diego Kang 

Crystal: - to host this program and meet everyone on the set!

DG: As you are all aware, we have collected 10 candidates with us today to face the challenges we have set for them and to see if those challenges may spark enmity amongst them.

Crystal : Our ten candidates are now in different rooms where they must write their first impressions of any random contestant, and then we will mix the letters and everyone must guess if the letter they picked is about them or no .

[Cut to a yellow room, where Vin-jin is seated in the middle, gazing at the paper, the envelope, and the pen placed in front of him]

Vin-jin: Can I write about my first impressions of you two?

DG: We are not candidates, so no, but you are welcome to tell us if you like.

Vin-jin: you appear to be a [beep] phony [beep]. [beep] hole to me, and the same goes to her.

Crystal: We value your feedback! Please continue with the task now.

Vin-jin : none of the contestants are interesting except that blonde haired guy with glasses , he seems like one crazy [beep].

DG : stop cursing

Vin-jin : you better not be censoring the [beep] am saying 

Crystal : you heard him editors 

[ a big ‘ we don't care ‘ with red letters appeared on the screen ]

[ the camera cut to Euntae this time in a pink room writing aggressively in a paper ] 

DG : For a first impression, he has a lot to say...

Crystal : better than the previous contestant.

[Random clips of the other participants writing and thinking began to play until it was eventually time to mix the letters together and give them to the contestants]

Crystal : We are finally going to open these letters! everyone step up and choose one and read it out loud. 

DG : let's start wil eli jang 

[ eli picks up the yellow envelope from the box ]

Eli : You look like some rich creepy guy who is obsessed with taxidermy , I do hope you get voted out in the first round…

Eli : am not sure this letter is for me..

DG : who do you think it is for?

Eli : uh wouldn't it be rude-

DG : its okay no one would get offended

Crystal : are you trying to cause problems Diego?

DG : quite bold of you to assume that-

Goo : i want to read a letter next!

[ goo picks up a pink envelope from the box ]

Goo : woah thats so long

Goo : i love your blonde hair so much and you look like a prince- i don't need to read the rest this is obviously written for me.

Vin-jin : no way that letter is written for you ,you look like some hobo

Goo : excuse me

[ goo picked up the box and threw it at vin-jin ]

[vin-jin dodged and the box hit gun ]

Gun : oh for (beep) sake

[ gun started chasing after goo with the box ]

[All peacefulness has abruptly vanished]

DG : wow its been 20 minutes only

Crystal : Everyone calm down

DG : you really think thats gonna work

Crystal : DG just leave me alone

[ in the background daniel decided to pick a green envelope from the floor ]

Daniel : you are really handsome and cute ? i wonder who wrote that

Jay : ......

Daniel : oh thank you so much jay!

Crystal [ in the edge of losing her sanity ] : he didnt even talk-

[ crystal and DG got pushed by zack lee ]

Zack : move aside you are stepping on a letter

[ Zack picks up a black letter from the floor]

Zack : fight me ? who the [beep] said that

DG : stop.cursing

Crystal : anyway that's our episode for today!-

Zoe : the rest of us didn't read

Crytsal : i hope you enjoyed-

[ the letters box suddenly hit the screen and it suddenly went black ]

[ The show logo flashed on the screen and the credits started rolling]

#LookatmeTV #lookatmetv #lookism #daniel park #jay hong #zoe park #mira kim #gun park #goo kim #vin jin #zack lee #euntae lee #eli jang

[erzbethluna]

Six Sentences Sunday (except is an art process)

Well, hello there, beautiful creatures! :D thank you so much for the wonderful tags!!! they mean a lot for meeee!! I haven't posted in a bit, doing a master is a bit stressful. But! I'm always lurking around and seeing as much as I can the amazing things you all are creating!! As you might know, I'm right now doing lots of fan work for my amazing and beautiful friends @confused-bi-queer and @hushed-chorus, which stories are very close to my heart <3

This time, I would like to share my art process. It is a contrast between the traditional art, and the digital one. Each process is different with each person. When you want to represent something someone else created, it is important to get as many insights and feedback from them, and know the source material. Previous: The Talk ™ First and foremost, you need to talk with the author. Maybe if you are doing fanart, is not that needed. But when you are doing a collab, it is important to be in the same channel as the author, and have a brainstorming about the ideas, vision or insights they might have. Contrasting ideas, situations, deciding which illustrations are more viable, scheduling the releasing, etc. all those topics are important! Feel free to suggest creative adjustments, might or might not work for the author, but is worth the shot. A creative idea is never a wasted one ;) once you have decided, then is time for: 1. Sketching

The sketching part is very important! You layout your scene for the first time! start deciding where light and dark will be, the color palette, the feeling you want to evoke, and work with the expressions the characters will have. It doesn't need to be perfect to be a good sketch! It needs to evoke the idea! This stage is the same in both traditional and digital, at least for me. I always start on paper :) I show my sketches to the author, and we fangirl together ;) then (after maybe some adjustments, maybe a whole new sketch) they approve the idea! Is time for: 2. Lineart

Lineart is different for traditional and digital, but not really. For traditional, I first decide which kind of medium I will use. This will be crucial for the materials I will procure myself with. This time I went for watercolor with a bit of mixed media, so I needed a paper strong enough for the watercolor to behave. Then, I chose the liners, which are waterproof and light fast. I line with 0.5, 1.0, 4.0 and some edged broader pens meant for calligraphy. In digital, I work with a Wacom bamboo and Photoshop, and I use some hard brushes with pressure sensitiveness activated. You can customize your brushes, or use packs available on the internet. The wonders of digital are that you can make as many mistakes as you want, and you can always go back. I usually paint my lineart in the darkest shade I will use in the whole illustration, but never black. When you are happy with your lineart, then is time for:

3. Colours!!

The fun part! The one I enjoy (and suffer) the most!! Color. I love painting, but both traditional and digital can be as demanding as you wish! In traditional, you have to be more careful with the mediums. Watercolor is such a wonderful and nightmare way of expression, because you can't really control it. You have to be ok not being in that control, understand how it behaves, and work fast. I always end up adding acrylics for color enhancing, lights, and specific details I want to represent. Let your work rest, I can have a finished piece in two hours, or in three days. In digital, unhinge. Unhinge my child, have fun! You can correct, filter, move values and start again as much as you want!! There are so many brushes, so many filters, so many textures, the whole color palette light allows! Have fun! But two important things I always do: make a folder for each character. Don't be me some years ago, when I used to paint everything in a single layer, or not name any of them. Order is important when you want to correct things. Also, I encourage you to limit your color palette, this way the whole illustration makes sense. I always do something I call 'The ambience layer', where I put a layer over the lineart and everything, and I add lights, shadows, textures, etc. not specific of any object but of the whole scene. And I always add filters and color correction and tweak the values here and there. Great! Now you have a: 4. Finished piece

You have finally finished! Make sure you sign your pieces, and you give them digital treatment if you are going to publish them on the internet. Always work with RGB values, and export for web :) always send your advances to your authors, and send the finished piece via e-mail, so it doesn't lose quality. - - - - - - So yeah, this is basically the whole process :D soon I will share a different process with different versions of the art involved. Would you like me to create a guide with export values and formats and all that jazz? I hope you enjoy this! :D Please check the fics these pieces (and many more) were made for: The Rise and Fall of Us and What Remains After the Storm. I tag: @hushed-chorus @confused-bi-queer @kohatenz @artsyunderstudy @moodandmist @mostlymaudlin @palimpsessed @henreyettah @aristocratic-otter @cynopoe @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @wellbelesbian @skeedelvee @cattocavo @krisrix @johnwgrey @asticou @takitalks @ionlydrinkhotwater @dragoneggos @ic3-que3n @castawaypitch @ileadacharmedlife @stitchyqueer @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @thehoneyedhufflepuff @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @bazzybelle @basiltonbutliketheherb @nausikaaa

#art #art process #six sentences sunday #fanart #fic fanart #snowbaz #simon snow #simon snow salisbury #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #traditional art #digital illustration #art based on fic #carryon #carry on #carry on rainbow rowell #co/ws/awtwb