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simkaswriting · 2 years

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Fake Christmas-(Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Christmas

Summary: What happens when Steve agrees to be (Y/N)’s fake boyfriend for her family’s Christmas dinner?

A/N: Wow, my first fanfiction in almost three years. Thank you uni for draining my creative spirit lol. But here’s a piece I’ve been writing on and off since last Christmas, hence the theme ;) As always, please reblog or leave a comment if you enjoy the fic :)

Twenty minutes. Twenty painfully long minutes is how long I’ve been toying with my phone, contemplating how to reply to my moms long anticipated text. Mind running 20 miles an hour, trying to scramble for any half-plausible excuse to relieve myself of the yearly family gathering, something which I haven’t managed to successfully do to date. It isn’t because I don’t want to see my family over the Christmas period, but rather because they expect me to bring them a boyfriend, and when I inadvertently fail every year, they never seem to back down from discussing all of my possible shortcomings. And at this point, it’s getting tiring.

Interrupting my useless thought process, Steve’s grumble echoes throughout the large living room, no doubt unhappy with one of the players in the football game he’s watching on Tony’s state of the art TV. Ever the avid fan of the Patriots, perhaps to an extent that may verge on unhealthy. But I am not one to judge, considering the countless arguments Bucky and I have gotten in over old movies. Hands behind his head and feet taking up the whole sofa, he mumbles under his breath every time something goes wrong with his team.

Ever since I joined the Avengers two years ago due to my only slightly annoying element-sensitive powers, the two of us have gotten along like a house on fire. His borderline indestructibility has made him one of my only options for sparing partners given my occasional accidental burning through hand pads, something Natasha still brings up to this day. So, Steve has become my go to sparring partner, and through the hours of intense training, the two of us have slowly grown closer over time. Before I knew it, the sparring grew to cool down sessions, to walks, to drinks, to hanging out in each other’s bedrooms until ungodly hours. And now, Steve has become someone I know I can rely on, someone who I can share my worries and nightmares with, a comfort I didn’t know I needed. A royal pain in my ass too though, but purely because his stupid face and stupid voice and stupid charm has been the only thing occupying my mind lately, to a fault.

Setting my phone down with a dejected sigh, I slowly rise from the corner armchair obscured by a comically large fake plant Pepper no doubt chose. I set my sights on the kettle and tea box, needing some calming herbs to help me think clearer. A nice steaming cup of tea has never failed me before.

“Steve, do you want tea?” I call over to the super soldier who’s somehow managed to occupy the entirety of the L-shaped couch with his enhanced frame, to absolutely nobody’s surprise.

He lazily shifts his gaze from the TV to me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Almost apologetically, he nods. “That would be lovely (Y/N), thank you. If you wait a few minutes I can help, but we’re in the last quarter now. It’s all or nothing now.”

I grin back at him. “It’s alright, go Patriots.”

This earns me a beaming smile and a fist in the air from the Captain.

I busy myself making us tea, a chamomile blend for me and blackberry for him, and think of some more excuses while the kettle boils. Chicken pox? Too worrying. Work emergency? Not severe enough. Sudden ruptured gallbladder? They would insist on coming to see me. With a small frown, I pour the water into our mugs and place it down on the table in front of Steve just as the game draws to a close. Judging by his smile, the Patriots did indeed win. Which spells good news for the whole team, as his good mood will no doubt reflect on the training sessions, which are about to become a lot less severe. My muscles silently thank the Patriots.

“You seem to be my lucky charm.” He grins as he takes his mug and takes a small sip, the games highlights now being played. Not finding it particularly interesting, I stand by his seat with a small blush and contemplate some more half-hearted excuses to feed my family.

After a few minutes of silence, highlights seemingly forgotten, Steve frowns up at me and sits up properly, freeing up a part of the sofa which he pats for me to sit on. “Are you alright?”

Sighing, I sit down next to him, heart a little unsteady at the lack of space between us.

“Yeah, mom’s hounding me for the Christmas dinner this weekend. She won’t take no for an answer.” I huff, knowing fine well I sound like a sulking child.

At this, Steve’s gaze shifts from curious to concerned so fast it almost startles me.

“Why don’t you want to go? I thought you were on good terms with your parents.” His voice is laced with worry, as if this conversation is his biggest current worry, which is sweet in its own way.

I nod, contemplating whether or not I want to share my yearly experiences of seemingly never-ending teasing. But if anyone has understood my struggle with relationships, it’s Steve. “I am, but when the whole family gathers together for Christmas, it feels like an event designed specifically to tease me about my lack of a boyfriend. It’s just gotten old now. I was so desperate last year, that I offered to pay Thor to pretend to be my boyfriend just to get them off my back. But he unfortunately wasn’t having it.” I chuckle at the memory of a flustered God of Thunder, and how that was the first time I ever heart him struggle with his words.

Steve nods along, running his hand through his hair, something he often does when he’s thinking. It’s a habit he’s had for as long as I can remember, a cute one at that, especially when his shirt rises a little and exposes a sliver of his tones stomach. It definitely beats the nail biting both Bruce and Clint are so fond of.

“That bad?”

I look at his raised eyebrows and solemnly nod. Unfortunately, yes, that bad.

Looking at me, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Slowly he faces me, his tea somehow already finished. “Call me crazy, but you gave me an idea, so hear me out.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, go on.” Curious and mildly scared of what idea he could possibly have; I take another sip of my tea.

“I can pretend to be boyfriend to stave off your family, and you don’t even have to pay me. I’ll do it for your mom’s Christmas cookies you always talk about.”

The tea seems to go down the wrong tube, my throat not agreeing with the combination of the hot liquid and Steve’s out of pocket proposal. For a few seconds I sputter and cough, trying to wrap my head around what he said. Patriotic, Mr American Values Steve Rogers, wants to willingly lie to my entire family and pretend to be my boyfriend just to help me out and save me from embarrassment?

“Oh no, breathe. Breathe, (Y/N).” Steve takes the cup from my hands and gently places it on the table and starts rubbing soothing circles on my back.

After a few seconds, I calm down enough to look at him without going into another coughing fit.

“Are you sure about this one, Cap?” I question, obvious doubt clouding my voice, only because I know how my family can get. And how easily embarrassed Steve is sometimes. And how much I actually like the man in front of me despite nights spent convincing myself otherwise. It could be a recipe for disaster, especially since he is the one and only Captain America.

“Yes, of course. I reckon it could even be quite fun.” He shrugs and cracks one of his signature smiles that makes my heart do somersaults.

Taking a moment to really consider it, I weigh up my options. My family would definitely stop pestering me if I brought home the one and only Captain America, national hero and the original gentleman. They would no doubt love him. Plus, it could potentially be fun. However, long term it isn’t doable. But beggars can’t be choosers, so I mentally kick myself for agreeing.

“I hate how little convincing you’ve had to do. But sure, what could go wrong.”

---------

Steve pulls up outside of the lake house, parking his car in the row of Jeeps and Hummers already occupying the small car park, all dusted with tufts of snow. His American classic, that probably cost more to repair than it’s worth, sticks out like a sore thumb. “If this is what CEO’s and doctors can afford, I think it’s time I reconsider my career path.” Steve mutters under his breath, gawking at the expensive cars surrounding him. He’s shown an interest in cars and bikes since the early days, or so Bucky said. Maybe this could be some common ground for conversation once the starstruck awe subsides.

I glance at Steve whose eyes are full of child-like glee as his neck cranes to get a better look at my uncles Rolls-Royce Phantom. He really looks like a child on Christmas morning. And not just because of the hideous Christmas jumper he let me force onto him.

Just as I begin to think that I might ask him to turn the car around and leave, because dear God is this whole plan crazy, Steve pulls the keys out of the ignition and opens his door. The bastard probably knew my train of thought and wasn’t going to give me an easy out. But then again, he always seems to have an inkling of what I’m thinking. And we did drive three hours to get here

He walks around to my side of the car and opens the door for me with an encouraging smile, offering his hand to me like the gentleman he is. I take it, noticing how warm and steady it is compared to mine, almost as if he’s not worried about the next few hours ahead in the slightest. Not worried about tarnishing his God-like reputation or lying to my whole family. My stomach flips from the feel of his hand in mine as we slowly walk towards the lake house.

“You’re fine, remember to breathe. Just pretend this is one of our normal undercover missions, like the one we pulled off in Amsterdam in January.” Steve smiles at me reassuringly. Despite appreciating his reassurance, I can’t quite feel like the situation in Amsterdam was nowhere near as dangerous as this one. Amsterdam wasn’t quite the fake boyfriend and girlfriend scenario we’re going for here. It’s ironic, because it’s usually the guy that’s shitting bricks when it comes to meeting the parents, not the girl bringing him home.

Taking a few deep breaths which don’t work to calm my nerves in the slightest, my voice wavers with uncertainty. “You’re right, we went over the story like a million times. We’ll be fine, right?”

The two of us walk up the large wooden stairs towards the glass door, his hand giving mine a reassuring squeeze. The two of us spent hours coming up with a plausible backstory for our ‘relationship’ over the last few days, to Bucky’s and Nat’s immense amusement. We both know what to do, what to say, and how to act to make this the most believable fake relationship possible. It really is almost like a mission. So why does my stomach feel so light?

Steve rubs his thumb over my knuckles, as if reminding me that everything will turn out fine. The action brings my attention back to our intertwined hands and I can do absolutely nothing to stop the blush creeping up to my cheeks.

Before I have the chance to gather my nerves and knock on the door, a silhouette appears behind the stained glass door and swings it open, revealing my slightly dishevelled aunt Janice in an awful Christmas sweater rivalling the hideousness of Steve’s and my own one. Her hand clutches a half-empty glass of amber liquid which I assume is whiskey, as she takes another sip before pulling me into a bone crushing hug. The smell of cigarette smoke stings my nostrils in a nostalgic way.

Pulling away, I notice her eyes are already slightly glazed over as she looks me up and down with approval. Glass balanced on her ring and pinkie finger, she holds me at arm’s length, appearing genuinely delighted to see me. “I’m so happy you made it! Your mom persisted you were very taken with work but look at you! You’re here!” A smile of my own works its way to my lips, her drunken happiness contagious. My aunt has always been my personal favourite.

As she lets go, her attention shifts over to Steve. “And who might this be?”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise of their own will as I follow her gaze to the tall man next to me. Does she not recognise him? Captain America himself?

Steve smiles politely and tugs me closer to his side. “This is the boyfriend, ma’am. Steve Rogers, a pleasure to meet you.” He extends his hand out for a handshake, polite as ever. But instead, to my surprise, Janice envelops him in a hug of his own with a delighted squeal. I watch to make sure the contents of her glass don’t end up on Steve’s sweater.

“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” She laughs as she lets go of Steve and opens the door a little wider. The smell of spices and warmth that flow out makes my stomach burn with nostalgia. “Come, let’s introduce you to the rest of the family, they don’t bite. Well, maybe Coconut. But I wouldn’t worry about her.”

As we walk through the threshold, Steve gives me a questioning look as my aunt rushes into the living room. No doubt excited to inform the cohort that the last unmarried member of the family that’s of age finally brought someone home to the family.

Hanging mu jacket up on the coathanger by the door, I just nod to the small white Dachshund curled up at the bottom of the staircase, barely registering us. “That’s Coconut. She’s known to bite a few ankles here and there.” Vicious creature.

Putting on the bravest smile I can muster, and with a reassuring smile from Steve, we head to meet the rest of the family, chickens entering the wolves den. I hold Steve’s hand tightly in mine, so tight it might cause the average man pain, But not-

“Captain America!” A chorus of excited yells surrounds us as my nieces and nephews rush at the man standing next to me. Their eyes wide in awe, and I don’t blame them. Steve is truly incredible.

Steve chuckles and bends down to high-five the army of five starstruck kids, this no doubt being better than any Christmas present they’ll receive. The youngest, Adam, asks if Steve brought his shield with wide doe eyes only children are capable of, to which Steve promises him he will bring it next time. Despite the empty promise, seeing the way he’s interacting with the kids sets my heart into overdrive, and I have to force myself to stop ogling the incredible man next to me, despite the sight being the cutest I’ve ever witnessed.

Instead, I look across the room at mom and dad, who both wear shocked expressions, their previous conversation forgotten. A quick glance around the room confirms that everyone is indeed gaping at the embodiment of patriotism I brought along.

Once Steve’s sure the kids are happy with the answers to their seemingly never ending questions, he stands back up and haphazardly wraps an arm around my waist, smiling at the people gathered in the large room with one of his signature charming and disarming smiles.

With a small breath to calm my crazy nerves, I also smile at my family. “Family, this is Steve. My boyfriend.” I gently pull his hand from my waist and intertwine my fingers with his as if it were the most natural thing to us. “Though you probably know him better as Captain America.”

My parents both eagerly shoot out of their seats and rush to Steve and I, looks of awe that could easily compete with the kids plastered across their faces. Dad immediately begins to shake Steve’s hand with a wide smile, and I swear he’s holding back from physically vibrating with excitement. “It’s an incredible honour to meet you, Captain.”

I silently thank that Steve is used to these types of reactions.

Mom gives me a quick welcoming hug but her attention is painfully clearly on the handsome man I brought along with me.

“Likewise, Sir. Please, call me Steve.”

Mom leans a little closer and whispers. “You did good.” There isn’t any doubt whether or not she approves of Steve, who most likely heard her. It isn’t every day your child brings home a legendary super soldier. This may even make up for previous years of disappointment, where she would sigh dramatically every few minutes to remind me how I’d disappointed her.

And I fully agree with her. I can’t even begin to imagine anyone else standing next to me, holding my hand, faking this relationship with me. Nobody could possibly be up for this, as Thor showcased, and I don’t believe I’d feel this comfortable around another person. I don’t even have to think about it very hard, but Steve could very well be the perfect man, and I can’t lie to myself that some deeply buried part of me isn’t sad that this is all just a charade. But I push that thought to the back of my mind and instead turn my focus to the job at hand.

The two of us make our rounds until he’s met everyone, with my grandad being the most excited to have met him. And I’m pretty sure that if I don’t bring him along with me to the next family Christmas, I’ll be getting disowned and written out of 20 different wills. Much to their disappointment, I have a feeling this is a one-off favour that he won’t want to keep up.

“Dinner is getting served, please head to the table.” My gran calls from the doorway to the kitchen, and we all simultaneously make our way into the newly renovated dining room. To my surprise, the ceiling has been replaced from brick to glass, white now thanks to the snow. The room itself has been extended to accommodate our ever-growing family.

Steve pulls out the chair for me with a small smile, and I take a seat with flushed cheeks, which to my horror burn brighter when he places a gentle kiss on one of them as he sits down.

He turns to face me with the softest smile, amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “You okay darling?”

I blink once, twice, three times before I can muster a simple ‘yes honey’ in return. Despite the attention on us, nobody seems to pick up on the strangeness of my behaviour. And I internally curse at myself for letting him catch me off guard like this.

The next few minutes are full of everyone getting settled in and food being distributed around. I have to hide my smile when I hear a few of my relatives quietly bicker over who gets to sit on Steve’s other side while he innocently discusses classic cards with my dad and uncles.

Once everyone’s settled down and eating away, I bite my lip nervously as the questions start pouring in from all sides, like an interrogation.

“How did you two meet? And when?” Comes from my cousin, her eyes devouring every inch of Steve as if her were a gazelle and she was on the hunt. And I really can’t blame her, Steve is insanely attractive by any standard, and even those without any taste couldn’t disagree. Instinctively, I take a hold of his hand and smile sweetly at him, a foul acid burning deep in my stomach at the thought of her hands on him. My heart continues hammering against my chest as if trying to escape, but this time it’s not because this charade is making me nervous. It’s because of him.

Steve takes a small drink from his glass of what I assume is whiskey and launches into our well-practiced story.

“It was around nine months ago. I was out for my morning run and we happened to bump into each other. She didn’t recognise me at first, which I was thankful for, at least I knew her initial interest came from an honest place, and not just because I’m Captain America. Now though, I’m not so sure.” His soft smiles slowly turns teasing, and I nudge his shoulder playfully, hoping my blush isn’t too noticeable. Even though we practiced out story, nothing could have prepared me for the physical touch that came along with it.

“Wow Steve, and here I was thinking I’ve been sly about it all this time.”

Laughter echoes around the dining room, and my nephews launch into 101 questions, mainly focusing on how fast he can run, and if he can beat the Flash. And having had the pleasure to watch Steve train, and once stupidly challenging him, I’m beyond aware of his full capabilities. He lightly squeezes my hand before letting go and tucking into the plate of food before him like a man possessed. I have to bite into some potatoes to keep my laughter contained.

“Nine months? And why am I only hearing about this now?” Mom’s eyes wide like saucers burn holes through me, voice shrill, as I fight the urge to avert my gaze.

“I’m sorry! We just wanted to make sure what we have is solid and that our schedules wouldn’t clash too much. You do know his whole gig is sort of saving the world? And God, let’s not even mention the publicity that’s heading our way once we go public.” I rush out, throwing my hands up and gesturing wildly, hoping that will somehow help communicate my point across.

Steve chuckles next to me, eyes warm and comforting on me, those angelic blue eyes that hold the power to render me speechless and burn scorching holes through me. The familiar flutter of butterflies in my stomach disrupts my trance.

“That’s true, just imagine the headlines. ’97 year old Captain America catches himself a girl born seven decades after him’, or maybe ‘Captain America can’t find anyone his own age to date’. Better yet, ‘award for oldest cougar in the world goes to Steve Rogers’. It’ll be rather amusing that’s for sure, but far from easy.” I smile at Steve as he speaks and roll my eyes at his creativity. The family seems amused, while some of the younger kids ask to their parents horror what a cougar is. Perhaps working for the New York Times was his true calling, with his expert avoidance of the word paedophile. Though some part of me worries that a few months from now when my relatives begin asking where such headlines are, I’ll be forced to come clean.

I take a sip from my glass and continue gently smiling at Steve, though this time it isn’t forced for our performance’s sake. No, this time it’s a real smile. Because the man next to me truly is incredible. He’s seen me at my lowest when Pietro died, or when my dog went missing only to resurface with his head missing as a threat from one of our many enemies. And in turn I was there when he so desperately tried proving Bucky’s innocence against the wishes of the mighty Tony Stark himself. But he was also the one to hug me first when I got my PhD, and I was the first person he lent his infamous shield to for a long mission. And through the turmoil and good times, we’ve come out stronger than ever, with newfound strength and closeness. And a different kind of love on my behalf. I would walk through Hell and back for him, and I have no doubts he would do the same.

Grandma smiles from behind her glass of white wine, and I swear I can see the shadows of devil horns take form. “So Steve, what are your intentions with my little (Y/N)?”

My breath catches in my throat. We didn’t rehearse this question, stupidely. Why didn’t we think to cover this base? I force myself to swallow the delicious food and begin to shake my head. “Okay Gran, that’s not-“

Before I have the chance to try and stop the train collision about to happen, Steve interrupts me, perhaps for the first time since I met him.

“I’m glad you asked. It has only been nine months. However we have discussed what the future holds for us, and as long as (Y/N) still wants me around, then ring shopping definitely isn’t out of the question.” Steve sends me a cheeky wink, softly brushing his thumb over my knee to ease some of my tension, not knowing that the touch of his skin on mine is throwing me into a frenzy.

“In my decades-spanning life, I have never met a woman so passionate and determined, not only in her personal life but in her career too. She knows what she wants and goes for it without asking permission of anyone. Waking up next to her every morning really makes the 66 years I spent under the ice worth it, almost like fate. Every day I look at her and fall deeper in love, and who could really blame me. She makes me feel like the luckiest man alive, which I no doubt am. Not every woman would sit through a Patriots game just to make their partner happy.”

It takes all of my goddamn self-control, of which there isn’t a lot, to keep my jaw firmly attached and away from hitting the table. Self-control that multiple people at the table don’t see to quite possess. The sudden dryness in my throat forces a cough out of me, and I desperately hope my attempt and playing it off as a laugh at his Patriots joke is believable. But the cruel reality is that my heart is hammering against my chest faster than Steve can run, and my palms are as wet as my throat wishes it was. How did he come up with this on the spot and deliver it so effortlessly? Almost too smoothly. We didn’t rehearse this. What am I going to do next year when he doesn’t show up to the Christmas dinner with me? Keep the lie going and tell them he’s on some top-secret mission, or be forced to come clean when he finds a woman for himself? Despite it feeling like he was speaking from the heart, I have to convince myself it isn’t true. Because there sure isn’t an ounce of truth to what he said.

Steve smiles at my gran, sweet as honey, before pulling me closer and placing a soft kiss on my forehead. My heart, not heading for a cardiac arrest, skips a beat at his sudden burst of affection. But I can’t deny I love the contact, and I don’t try to stop the smile fighting its way onto my face.

There’s a brief moment of silence, before the sound of cooing attacks us from every direction. My mother actually has tears in her eyes, and I have to bite my lip to keep my own at bay, if only after seeing hers. But if anything, his lovely speech and the reactions of my loved ones reminds me of our actual relationship; two close friends, nothing less, nothing more. And it leaves an unpleasant pit in my stomach.

The poor guy barely has time to swallow, and the others to recover, before Aunt Janice takes another drink of the auburn liquid in her glass and waves her hand frantically for attention. Now that I think about it, an online ad for a fake boyfriend probably would have been less stressful.

A playful look on her face, Janice winks at him. “Your alcohol tolerance, soldier? What do ya say to an old-fashioned drinking game?”

My eyes widen instantly at her proposition. Does she realise that Steve is a superhuman? An enhanced soldier? Scientifically altered to be the perfect man. A man who could drink Asgards alcohol of the gods with no effect?

“You might not want to do that, ma’am.” Steve looks at her with amused eyes and smiles shyly, obviously not wanting to offend her, but also trying to put her off one of the bigger mistakes of her life.

I nod furiously in agreement. “Please don’t, that’s not a good idea. A really bad one actually.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t believe everything the media say. Your tolerance is surely not that high?” She presses, and I recognise that she’s one step away from pulling out a bottle of Jack for each of them. But thankfully, my grandmother chimes in, chastising her daughter.

“Janice leave the poor man alone, alcohol only lowers potency and I want to spoil my grandchildren next Christmas.”

I just about choke on my own saliva, as does my dad.

“Mom please, they need to get married first and move in together before trying for a family.” My mom shakes her head at grandma in disproval, to which grandma rolls her eyes and swats my moms hand off her shoulder, before once again setting her sights on me and Steve.

“When I was your age, Janice and Clyde were already crawling around and I was expecting with your aunt Angie. You two have a lot of catching up to do.”

I look at Steve, for reassurance or some solace, I’m not sure, but he looks more amused than worried.

“I understand ma’am. I was born during an era where you were expected to marry, settle, and have children within months of knowing one another, and at a very young age. Today’s culture did come as a shock to me.”

Before Steve has a chance to promise great grandchildren and a wedding, I slide out of my seat and take Steve’s hand in mine.

“Actually, Steve honey come help me get the presents from the car? Sorry, I only just remembered we forgot to bring them in with us.” I shoot an apologetic smile to mom and discreetly nudge him, which he thankfully takes as a hint and also stands up. I can see Mom gearing up to protest, but I just smile and pull him out of the room, right out of the front door, not bothering to take our jackets. I feel like another layer on my already flushed skin would only worsen my state.

The fresh air hits me like a beautiful slap in the face that I whole-heartedly welcome. I bask in the cold breeze for a few seconds. It does wonders calming my rampant thoughts. And the slow snowfall around me only helps more.

“See now I agree with your mom, I was also thinking marriage, house, children is a good order to do things in. I’m glad some old ideals still live in todays society.” Steve quips, his tone oozing mirth. My steely glare does nothing to stop his infections smile.

“Don’t you dare encourage them or so God help me I’ll have Stark confiscate your shield from you. This, we, aren’t real and I don’t need them getting attached to you when they’ll only ever see you on TV again.” My hands take on a life of their own as I throw them around wildly to try emphasise what I’m saying, and just how serious of a conversation this is gearing up to be. As soon as the words leave my mouth though, they feel too harsh. Wrong, even. This is a fake relationship, but it feels wrong. The lake to our left unsettles, waves on an otherwise motionless pool of water rising higher and higher, my emotions clearly affecting my powers.

His hand wraps around my clenched fist and softly begins to rub soothing circles on my knuckles, calming me down, lowering the unnatural wall of water. Looking into his eyes I don’t see the amusement I heard in his tone though, and it throws me.

“(Y/N)....” Steve glances at our intertwined hands for a few seconds. My name hangs in the air as his other hand combs through his hair. The nervous habit. We stand in silence for a few seconds as the pit in my stomach grows darker and deeper. For a reason unbeknown to me, I feel unease. Foreboding.

“(Y/N) you make me want things I can’t have.” Steve’s smile is a sad one, and it hurts me to see. But what does he mean? Is it my family since he doesn’t have his own one?

“Steve I... What?”

My mind runs rampant and wild with no signs of stopping. Where is this coming from? What brought this on?

Looking at our hands something clicks. Could he possibly be talking about us? It’s an absurd thought that I already know is wrong, yet the tingle in my stomach is persistent. Could it be? I look up at him, his soft blue eyes, and dare to hope. ”Who says you can’t?”

His eyes shoot up to mine. They search my own ones for something, anything, that might give him the idea I’m joking. I fight the urge to look away, not because I’m uncomfortable though. Purely because the intensity he’s looking at me with flares up my cheeks. His eyes flicker with defeat.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, (Y/N). Training, missions, falling asleep... Normal daily activities and I can’t commit to them. I can’t do it. I just can’t, you’re always on my mind.” His voice is low with a tinge of defeat as his thumb continues to draw circles on my knuckles.

“Buck told me to either snap out of it or grow a pair. But how could I do this to you? Bind you in a relationship when I will outlive you? Outlive even our children? I can’t do that to someone I care for. Someone I... I refuse.” His brows furrow more and more until there’s a deep shadow over his eyes. His beautiful, troubled eyes.

The words hang between us, heavy, yet relieving, almost freeing. Hopeful despite the content of them. The heat drains from my face as his words really register in my mind. Does he love me? Is he consumed by love the way I am? Has he felt this way since the first time we met, or only more recently? Does anyone else know? Does he seriously think that this decision is only up to him? Questions fly around my head, dizzying me, ones I desperately want answers to, but that can wait. His eyes haven’t budged from our hands. I can’t read him. But I have to say something. I have to for the sake of my sanity, and our relationship, whatever that may be after his declaration.

“Steve this isn’t just your choice anymore. I understand what you mean but dear God, with this logic you’re destined to live a lonely life. A long, lonely life, when you could be happy. We could be happy.” I take a step closer to him, our faces inches apart. My desperate eyes search his face for any sign of agreement, any sign that his selfless act is dissipating. He sighs and begins to shake his head no, but the cracks are there, just beneath the surface. I just need to press harder.

“Do it, take a chance. I’m begging you, Steve. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been. I want this, you, us. I want the things you fed my family in there. With you.” The crack in my voice betrays my confident bravado as I begin to feel the desperation. He has to say yes. He has to. There is no way we could go back to the way we were before, not with these revelations now out in the open.

Steve gently smiles down at me, meeting my eyes with a soft look that melts my heart. I hold his unwavering stare, but the corners of my vision begin to slightly blur from the tears of desperation.

His free hand reaches up to caress my cheek and jaw. I lean into his touch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Our breaths come out in short puffs of white clouds as the silence stretches out. I have to do it. Now or never.

I stretch up and before I can back out or my heart palpitations succeed in giving me a heart attack, I press my lips against his.

The exact moment our lips touch, two things happen simultaneously. First, Steve wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him with a soft groan, which threatens to stop my heart beating right on the spot. Second, the snow around us intensifies from a mere dusting to a ferocious fall that has us both grinning into the kiss like two lovesick idiots.

I don’t care for his stubble as his lips feel so soft moving against mine, tasting vaguely of alcohol and mints and that odd combination of things I can’t put my finger on that scream Steve. My fingers weave themselves into the hair at the nape of his neck. I can tell he’s being a gentleman and holding back, and I don’t push him. There’s plenty of time for that.

He breaks away from the kiss, gently resting his forehead against mine as our breaths almost drown out the sudden storm my excitement caused. His voice is soft, and I have to strain to hear him.

“I love you (Y/N).”

I don’t even try to stop the smile spreading across my lips at those words. I’ve been wanting, no yearning, to hear those words from him for years. Hoping that amidst the heat of battle he’d shout them to me in fear that we won’t live to see each other again. That perhaps at one of Tony’s extravagant parties, he would find his way to me and whisper the words only for me to hear. But this somehow feels right. The two of us at my family’s lake house, acting as fake boyfriend and girlfriend in a desperate bid to save my sanity and reputation. Waiting this long has been worth it.

“I love you too, Steve.”

We’re both stand in the snowfall for a few minutes, grinning at each other like idiots. Relishing in the words we've both been silently begging to hear.

“Let’s head back before you grandmother starts picking out baby names.”

Hand in hand, the two of us head back inside to face my family once again, however this time it’s different. This time we don’t have to pretend.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #avengers #marvel #clint barton #bruce banner #love #avengers x reader

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haik-choo · 4 years

Text

karasuno boys as boyfriends

a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))

---

[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]

-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi

---

tsukishima kei.

the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”

runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3

in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.

i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him

you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while

he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys

he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only

he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession

will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend.

and you don’t have a problem with that ;)

yamaguchi tadashi.

he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do

he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth

he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger

NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3

you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good

kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)

yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what.

YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.

kageyama tobio.

he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever

i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle

DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3

PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol

like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball

he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG

realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too

the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect

he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours

it was cute tho <3

hinata shoyo.

YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE

when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day

the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar

it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.

AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--

THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE

he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce

he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you

his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy

tanaka ryuunosuke.

you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.

number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle

you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows

YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET.

i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it

literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless

yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka

the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles

you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited

kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved

nishinoya yuu.

SUCH an excited boyfriend

like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like

“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!”

he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red

at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun.

he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground

he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.

his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them

NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS

the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.”

sugawara koushi.

would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours

his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him

never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.

his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two

loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3

he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes

and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o

whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok

PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo

daichi sawamura.

you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol

boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!

this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor

you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural

daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact.

his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi

you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol

totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either; when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)

you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing

doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist

WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF

asahi azumane.

literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.

did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights

needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED

even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough

his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust

OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS

when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft

kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Hello,

Can you do a zemo or Laszlo x reader where he is helping the reader get away from an abusive boyfriend?

Also happy (late) birthday!!! 🎁 🎉💐

Acceptance [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: mention of abuse

A/N: I had to do Laszlo, mostly because I feel like Zemo's way with you in an abusive relationship would be like: consoling you while accidentally getting your ex murdered.

Laszlo was quietly dictating to you while you typed quickly onto your typewriter. You were his private secretary and you helped him with correspondence and noting down ideas and reflections during his sessions or while he planned a new article or book.

You loved your job, you learned so much and your vision of the world broadened widely since you met with the alienist.

Somebody that wasn't happy with this arrangement was your fiancé. Your engagement was going on from few months but he courted you a lot before, your father adored him because of his military background and your mother would have prepared you to move into his house in a second just because of his last name.

You weren't deeply in love with him from the beginning but at least he gave you the feeling that you could earn some happiness, some kinship maybe with time.

But then the twist of fate, your friend Sara found you this job opportunity at the Institute and you begun enlarging your circle of friends and then Dr Kreizler taught you a lot about human mind, about what is instinct and what is feeling, about how some ideas that they put in your mind were just the easy way out to complex questions about women’s bodes or human mind.

He trusted you and you trusted him.

You fiancé seemed unsettled by the situation and often gave out remarks on how Kreizler kept you out at ungodly hours and it wasn’t respectable for your name and how you should be more careful. You found Dr Kreizler an handsome and interesting man from the moment you shared the first courtesies, so you didn't feel like getting mad at your boyfriend since you had a little pin of guilt in you, even if in reality nothing ever happened beside a very good friendship, but in such times even that could be seen as too much and you, being you, knew perfectly how your mind travelled discreetly toward the handsome doctor.

The situation with your partner started quickly deteriorating, your family admired him so much and saw him as the perfect candidate for you that they didn't even consider something could be going wrong. When you slowly begun to put together how he talked to you, the words he used to address you started striking in, from remarks to proper insults until they felt like a judgment given from above to you. You talked about it with your parents but they justified him. He probably meant it to 'wake you up'. You're too sensitive. He is a hard man, he probably means it in the best way and you're overreacting.

When words became actions, you didn't know who could you talk to so you kept quiet.

Under the heavy cloths of the victorian Era your shameful secret was guarded, the tickling clock toward your wedding day felt more and more like being condemned to life sentence in prison.

"Damn"

You hissed as you typed the last sentence wrong and you had to do it all over again.

"Y/N" Laszlo said as he leaned his head on side, cursing from you was rare if not completely unexpected.

"I apologise doctor, we can keep going and I will adjust it alone, I don't want to rob you of your time"

It was a tendency that you took up lately to be a bit too much apologetic. You apologised for everything, he almost expected you to be apologising for breathing. Which wasn't healthy but he promised himself not to be his usual alienist self with you and start analysing every change.

But he hated to see you like this, you were disappearing for some reason. You brought sunshine in the Institute and in his office, you decorated your desk with your favourite items and colours and he missed to see them, to see you express yourself, your smile, your questions always giving him the chance to rethink, to revise theories he gave as granted.

"Come, stand up" Laszlo said as you looked up at him surprised but he was already walking away so you had to follow up.

He guided you out of the office and up over the stairs, you climbed more and more behind him huffing because of the clothing giving you little space for movement until you arrived to an heavy door that Dr Kreizler opened with a key he kept in his pocket alongside with others.

Little it took you to understand you were on the roof of the Institute, the cold breeze hitting on you as he held the door open for you and you came out with him. It wasn't too cold, the sun was still up in the late afternoon.

"I hoped you'd like to talk to me here, I lock this place because kids would come here and it is not too safe, but i often come up here to reflect"

You nodded slowly as you stared at the buildings and then at him again.

"I am fine"

He stared at you as he leaned his head on side as he leaned over the edge of the roof in a relaxed sitting position, the wind blowing lightly his perfectly combed hair "Take your time"

"Dr Kreizler, I really don't"

"We agreed about you calling me Laszlo, did I do anything to have you taking this privilege away?"

You stared at him, breath clung into your chest.

"No, it is not that, it is, well, it is not easy with my fiancé, I mean to have me working for a man and call you by your first name is not, well, appropriate”

He stared at you as he could tell it was a truth, but it wasn't enough.

"Did he want to call off the engagement? I can talk to him, reassure him that nothing happened and of my integrity toward you and the absolute respect you ever had toward your profession"

He said as you bit the inside of your cheek, but you tried to hide it.

"I think it is not needed"

"So it wouldn't be enough for him, that's what you mean?"

You almost chocked on air because it was true, it was an hazard he did from that comment but the result made it worth it.

"Y/N" he said taking a deep breath in and moving closer to you “I am not here to tell you how to live your life, I am nobody’s counsellor about right choices”

You looked up as he was so close to you and he was staring directly to you.

“Don’t take this as me talking to you as an alienist or your chief, but as a friend who is deeply concerned about your current state”

He took a brief pause and the fact you were too afraid by that closeness to reply, it just showed how much there was underneath the surface.

“Nothing can’t be undone, not even an engagement” he finally said “It is some time that you’re not only distant and that’s since that ring appeared on your finger, but you’re also deeply sad and I am afraid to ask what is going on with your left shoulder to make you always wince when you lift even a pen”

You bit on your bottom lip as you trembled on the spot biting so hard, almost to the bleeding point until he pushed gently his hand to touch your jaw making you undo that silly torture onto yourself, the lump that you kept for month in your throat finally ready to be set free as you let to a sob of pure pain.

“I-I..”

He looked at you and smiled warmly, welcoming

“..I am so scared”

He leaned his hand on your back gently pulling you into a hug as you begun to cry like one of the kids in the Institute.

A cry made of heavy tears of fear, of loud uncontrollable sobs and your hands clasped over his jacket like for a dear of life.

“It is okay, I am here, you can stay here for the night and we will make everything alright”

His voice calm, warm like the home you daydreamed when imagined to have a family yourself.

“Doctor, I swear I am not lying”

“I know Y/N, I know, I believe you” he said as he gently held you resting his hand on your back, gently caressing you into warm circles “You are being so courageous to do this first step, no fear now, I won’t let you live another day like this”

“But”

“I told you” he murmured looking down at you “I believe you”

You nodded as you finally accepted it, he could really help you, even if you said barely anything he saw it, he saw your pain and your pain could have been caused by a needle, an angry cat or an abusive man.

It didn’t matter, your pain was now his, and he won’t let you live with it any time soon.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kriezler x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it.

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went?

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him.

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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thesleepy1 · 3 years

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All In Endearment, Dear

A/N: My friend really liked that last fic and they wanted another one. I am so glad they liked it. One of the only positive things that happened in a while, hahaha. To anyone who comes across this, commenting, anything, even if it's just a smile makes my day. I finally get to feel that little surge of happiness when my fics are being read. It's a nice feeling, not going to lie. And to top off all of that, @queenofchaos7 requested that I continue this fic. So here we are.

Pairings: Merlin x Arthur

Summary: In an attempt to be more direct with Arthur, he takes Merlin out hunting with his knights. Something so intimate and a clear show of his loyalty, that Merlin could not mistake it as anything else. And in the middle of the forest, Arthur would not be able to chicken out like a coward, lest Merlin gets lost in the forest.

Word count: 3,824

Part 1

Part 3

Warnings: language, suggestive language, crude jokes, violence, blood,

Merlin was ignoring him. The man just had to be. Sure, Merlin came when called, was present in the council meetings, and everytime Arthur “accidently” injured himself Merlin would be there to nurse his wounds. It was just that Merlin rarely ever made eye contact with him anymore unless absolutely necessary. Merlin rarely ever lingered when called anymore, quickly leaving Arthur’s side to do who knows what.

Everyone already knew that Merlin was a wizard. Arthur was in full support of Merlin’s power and his ability to be useful among the court. For once in the brunette’s life that is.

There was no reason why Merlin should be avoiding him like this. Had he done something to make the man upset? Was it the rain comment from the week prior? Whatever it was, it was making him lose sleep. Arthur had long admitted that he was infatuated with Merlin, in love even. Though that was a big word. But obsessed to the point of losing sleep? That was where he drew the line.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled in that way of his. So distinctive that Merlin subconsciously curled up deeper into his nest of blankets. “Merlin!” Arthur yelled again, banging on Merlin’s door in Gaius’ quarters. “I know you aren’t at the tavern. I checked already. Wake up and come out here or I’m going in!”

Begrudgingly, Merlin rolled out of his straw stuffed bed and unlatched the door for Arthur. The king immediately stepped in before Merlin could close him out. “Do you realize how late it is?” Merlin asked in a sleep filled voice, not expecting Arthur to reply.

“Early actually, Merlin. The sun will be up in an hour or so,” Arthur replied, trying to hide the effects that Merlin’s sleep filled voice had on him. The king was so glad that the room was too dark to properly see.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in my room, you twat,” Merlin groaned, trying to make Arthur out without magic. If he didn’t know any better, it looked like Arthur was in his hunting outfit.

“Would it be absurd to say I just wanted to see you?” Arthur asked in mock jest, watching Merlin’s face in the dark of the room. Even without light, he was shining.

“You see me everyday, remember? I work for you,” Merlin countered, turning on his heel to beeline for his bed.

“But you’ve been ignoring me.”

Merlin ignored him in favor for getting back into his bed.

“Merlin,” Arthur tired again. “I’m here for a reason, you know.” When Merlin didn’t reply Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m taking you hunting.”

That got the wizard right out of his bed. “What?” he exclaimed in confusion, his hair stuck up on one side. Arthur was tempted to fix it back into place.

“What do you mean, what? We’re going hunting in the forest.” Arthur approached the bedside slowly, as if coming up to a sleeping lion in its den.

“Is that an order?” Merlin mumbled against the bed, pressing his sagging pillow against his head to hide away from Arthur. His shirt was riding up his chest from the movement and Arthur had to quickly look away.

“I-it is,” Arthur stuttered, suddenly very interested in Merlin’s walls. The wizard had a little parchment picture of a bird nailed to his wall. The sketch was quite accurate, though Arthur could not remember for the life of him what kind of bird it was. “We’re going hunting with the knights.”

“Couldn’t this wait until morning?”

“It is morning, Merlin,” Arthur inched toward the door, suddenly very aware that Merlin had gotten up from his bed and was currently undressing behind him. “J-just hurry or else we’re leaving you behind.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Merlin snarked, shrugging into a new tunic. “You might stab yourself with your own sword if I’m not around.”

Arthur turned around, offended that Merlin would say such a thing, “Well I would have you know-” Merlin had yet to put on a new pair of trousers. Arthur ran from the door without saying another word, scarred for life at what he had seen. Merlin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion until he heard a distant shout. “I still expect you to be there, Merlin!” Groaning at the unfairness of life, Merlin stepped into his trousers and made his way to the courtyard.

Arthur and the knights were there waiting for him, everyone disregarding, Arthur looked just as exhausted as he was. One of them was barely holding onto his mount. “Dear god, Arthur, what are you doing?” Merlin asked with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Take the lot of you hunting for a great beast or something the kitchen staff could roast for us!”

Merlin was ready to leap off a cliff. “At this ungodly hour?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

“Of course, Merlin. Do you really expect us to hunt at night?” Arthur answered with a smirk on his lips. The knights of the round table all looked as if they were ready to kill their king as well. Gwaine was half asleep on his stallion. Lancelot was sleeping with his eyes open, the lucky bastard.

“I expect you to hunt without me,” Merlin shook his head, turning his back on Arthur to saddle his own horse. The mare was purposely stronger than the others, a more reliant breed that had the best sense of home. If anything were to happen while they were hunting, Arthur wanted Merlin safe.

“Come on, Merlin. It won’t be that bad,” Arthur sounded, ordering his knights to flank him as they rode off into the forest. “Really, it could be worse.”

“It really couldn’t.” Merlin rode to his left, Percival to his right. For knights of his court, none of them except Leon seemed to be properly awake. Even Elyan who used to get up before the break of dawn to help his father was trying to not doze off. Arthur was frankly disappointed in them.

“It could be fun, Merlin,” Leon gave him a reassuring grin, reminding Arthur of a golden retriever. “If anything happens out here, we’ll be here to protect you.”

“It's more likely that Merlin would get himself into a spout of trouble. He’s a magnet for that sort of thing,” Arthur butted in, suddenly aware of how close Leon was to Merlin despite their protective formation. His knight looked bright and cheerful even when the sun barely broke the horizon. “Don’t worry, Merlin. We’ll be sure to save you from yourself,” Arthur added, playfully punched Merlin on the shoulder.

“Ouch, that hurt,” Merlin groaned, rubbing against the spot Arthur had hit.

“You’ll live,” Arthur hid the guilt that ran through his system well. “If you can’t take a punch then you won’t survive out here, you clotpole.”

“First you take my sleep then you take my insults, what next, my breakfast? Oh, wait,” Merlin snarked, holding the reins to his mare tightly. Arthur had made Merlin carry all of their supplies, his horse being the strongest and all. But the wizard didn’t know that. He just saw Arthur as dead from the head up inconsiderate.

“You haven’t had breakfast, Merlin?” Elyan asked in a concerned tone. When Merlin shook his head, Elyan quickly glared at the back of Arthur’s head. “We should catch something for you then. The rest of us had bread and cheese before departing,” Elyan informed, grabbing the box strapped to his back to notch an arrow and be on the lookout.

“He’ll be fine. Missing one meal won’t kill him,” Arthur brushed off Elyan’s concern. His knight was a much more skilled archer than he was. If he was to impress Merlin then he would need all the chances he could get. Perhaps taking his most skilled knights into the forest to hunt for sport was not the most brilliant idea.

But if it were only him and Merlin, then the wizard might have suspected something amiss. Arthur rarely went outside of the city outskirts unless it were for a diplomatic meeting. And he never hunted before day break. It was unsafe to do so alone. However, Arthur wanted all the time he needed to confess to Merlin. So, really, bringing the knights was the only smart choice.

Arthur was beginning to regret his intelligent decision.

The sun finally rose to signal that morning had truly arrived. And with it brought disappointment. They had spent the entirety of the morning running around like cocks with their heads chopped off. Not a single one of them could catch even the smallest of blue jays. No one had any luck.

Arthur even begged Merlin to cast a spell to make something fall at their feet but the wizard had refused because he found it too cruel. The king agreed but at the same time, they would be killing the creature for supper either way. Did it really matter, how?

According to Merlin, yes.

And that was how they ended up here at the river. Noon had just passed its peak and the soft morning sun was blistering with heat. Everyone was sweating in their armor and gear. Practically begging Arthur to stop for a dip. Pleading that they’ll try to catch some fish while they were at it.

Only Merlin sat fine as can be in his faded blue tunic and red handkerchief. The fabric so worn and loved, Arthur could only imagine how soft they were. Though, those two items seemed to be the only things in Merlin’s wardrobe. That and the inverted of the two, faded red tunics and blue handkerchiefs. The wizard’s sense of style was lacking to say the least.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Besides arrogance? Not that I know of,” Arthur answered defensively, turning his back on Merlin for the second time that day. All the knights had piled their armour and clothes on the ground, running head first into the river. The wizard clearly didn’t want to be left out.

Arthur may join them in the water but there was no possible way he could compete with them. They were soldiers, training from morning till evening and then some more. Their bodies were muscular, hair greased and unruly, their scars gleamed in the sun. Arthur couldn’t help but stare at them, watching as droplets fell from their rippling chest. His face grew bright red, heat making him dizzy as he resisted the urge to look lower.

Merlin was having no such complications.

The wizard had just taken off his drawstring trousers. His boots laid next to the knight’s pile of clothes. The horses were tied to a nearby tree and happily grazing. Arthur noticed these simple things so as to not stare at Merlin’s figure. As much as he would like to make fun of Merlin, there was nothing to make a mockery of. For a simple servant, Merlin was quite fit.

“Come on, Arthur! The water is great,” Gwaine yelled from the river, splashing on shore where Arthur was still standing with his gear on. His back was to the group, but his knights knew damn well why he was not looking their way. They had found out about his little crush on Merlin after he had one too many tankards. And since then, they had not ceased in their teasing.

“There could be leeches in there for all you know,” Arthur replied, watching a family of birds high up on the tree branches.

“Leeches are harmless,” Merlin said in a cheerful tone. He could hear the man swimming and splashing behind him. “If you’re worried about the leeches’ well-being, Arthur, they’ll be fine. Missing one meal won’t kill them,” Merlin laughed in a way that made butterflies flutter in Arthur’s stomach.

“Ha, ha, very funny, Merlin.”

“The river feels wonderful,” Leon added as well, looking like a glowing greek god come alive. Sure, all of his knights were good looking, but he saw the way the soldier looked at Merlin. Just because Leon knew about his crush, doesn’t mean the man wasn’t willing to steal Merlin. The knight was so clearly flaunting his muscles, tousling his bright blonde hair with his veiny hand. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Please, Arthur?” Merlin pleaded, the sound going straight to Arthur’s heart and perhaps somewhere lower. “It will probably fix your sour mood.”

“I don’t think anything can fix that,” Percival said with a grin that took up the entirety of his face.

“I think only one thing could.” Arthur could feel Gwaine’s wink against the back of his head. He resisted the urge to gag in the back of his throat. If he loses to Gwaine, he’ll never forgive himself. Leon was worthy at the very least, Gwaine drank too much. To lose to a pig was an under disgrace.

“Fine!” Arthur yelled to his hunting party. He tugged off his gear, his tunic, and then eventually his trousers. It was all a very frantic dance to rid himself of layers, he felt like an utter git. “Are you happy now?” he turned to ask his party, preparing himself to jump into the river.

“No pants, my lord?” Elyan asked in what could pass as a concerned tone, but Arthur could hear the snicker in his voice.

“Well- Aren’t you all naked as well?” Arthur stuttered, flushed as red as the day he was born.

“Even I have my pants on,” Gwaine grinned widely, floating on his back to prove his point. The man was wearing white cotton pants with pink sewn hearts. It was quite comedic if not for the fact that Arthur was standing butt naked in front of the man of his affections.

Arthur quickly grabbed his pants and stepped into them before struggling to jump into the river. He failed to properly jump due to searing eyes on him and belly flopped into the water instead. “Gah!” Arthur cursed under his breath, surfacing with a grimace. “The water’s so cold.”

“There’s no need to feel ashamed, my lord. Performance issues are normal for someone your age.”

“Stress and lack of usage I hear are big factors in the issue,” Merlin added, grinning at Arthur playfully.

“Shut it, Merlin.”

“I think you might be scaring all the fish away, Arthur. You would think that little shrimp of yours would attract more of them.”

Having enough of their rude jests, Arthur pushed his hand through the water and splashed the nearest men. That only awarded him with six grown men thrown into a water battle. It wasn’t fair that Percival was large enough to create a tidal wave of a splash or that Merlin could use his magic to protect himself and attack the others. So when he had ran for his own horse to wade through the water, it was all within the rules.

“Cheater!”

“Traitor!”

Arthur only laughed out loud, “The horses want to be a part of the fun as well!” He had quickly grabbed ahold of his clothes and putting them on with one hand was proving to be more difficult than it seemed. “Catch me if you can-” A strong gust of wind appeared out of the blue and knocked Arthur right back into the water, his horse swimming to the other side.

“What were you saying about fun, Arthur?” Merlin looked down at him, those blue grey eyes staring right at his heart. “Are you willing to play fair, now?” Merlin said in a whisper of a voice.

Arthur parted his mouth to speak, but Merlin took his breath away. This was the moment to tell him. To confess how much he needed Merlin in his life, wanted the man without hesitation. He would never give away his kingdom, but for Merlin…. For Merlin he would consider it. A kingdom was not one without its kings.

He could not place the exact moment he fell in love with Merlin, but he had always loved the fool. “I l-”

His horse on the other side of the river nighed in warning, the steed whining in fear. Bucking up on high legs, Arthur had to hold onto Merlin’s arm to steady himself. There on the shore was a beast he had never seen before. A bear as large as a house stood on four reptilian feet, the fur of the thing made from pure glistening metal. The creature had three sets of violet eyes and radiated heat like a furnace.

Before any of them could react the bear opened its maw to reveal dozens of rows upon rows of teeth. They were sharpened to a point, serrated edges that tore through the horse with a rigid form of fiery. In the blink of an eye, the horse was gone.

“Get back on your horses!” Arthur ordered his men, back stroking onto shore for his sword. “Prepare yourself!” A breeze brushed against his back, goosebumps littering his pale skin. His men were behind him, but Merlin, the bastard that he was, was in front of him. “Merlin, get your ass back here!” he yelled, gripping his sword in hand, chest and clothes soaked through.

“He’s starving!” Merlin shouted back as if that explained everything. The brunette’s lips were tinted blue, his pale skin a purple bruise from their earlier rough water fight. He looked so small then.

“Get back here before I drag you by your ear. You are not to engage!” Arthur threatened, quickly looking out of the corner of his eye to make sure the rest of his knights were alright. They all stood prepared to give their lives for the block headed wizard. Swords at the ready, amour and gear laid askew on the floor, chest bare. Their lives for the thief that stole Arthur’s heart.

“Don’t attack!” Merlin yelled back, wading towards the bear with vigor. His chest heaved with each breath labored by fear. “The poor thing is starving,” Merlin repeated, holding his hands out in a reassuring gesture.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned in a hushed voice, afraid that if he spoke any louder the creature would feel threatened. “Get back here, it's not safe you, utter git,” he hissed between his teeth, eyes darting between the two beasts

“I’ll live,” Merlin called back, eyes glowing light amber and gold.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Lancelot muttered under his breath.

Merlin’s lips twitched upwards at the comment, “Make sure Arthur behaves if I’m gone.”

The mere implication of such a thing had the king of Camelot rushing forward. Arthur would die before having to live a day without Merlin. He was seeing red as he waded through the water, pulling the wizard behind him. “Never!” Arthur yelled louder than intended, the creature whipping its head at them.

“You bloody-” Merlin’s curse was shortened by the blood curdling roar that erupted like a volcano from the beast. It reeled back onto its two high legs, claws as long as Arthur’s arms slashing forward. The underbelly of the thing was made from thick places interwoven, almost as if it knew that was where Arthur was planning to strike.

“Bold of you to assume death could get you out of this relationship,” Arthur quipped before diving underwater.

“Relationship? If you think you could confess to me and then go off to get yourself killed, then I’ll kill you myself.”

“Hey, lovebirds! Have your lover’s quarrel after you’re not in immediate danger,” Gwaine shouted, joining Arthur underwater.

“All of you are going on a fool’s errand,” Merlin said exasperated, climbing onto shore. Leon and Elyan pulled him up with their free hands, pushing him behind them the moment he was on his feet. He rolled his eyes at this, absolutely done with his hunting party. Turning on his heel, he found his horse with all of their supplies. “The bear hasn’t eaten in days, have you seen the state of this forest?” Merlin pulled out a small sack of fruits and bread he had nabbed from the kitchen before running to meet Arthur.

The remaining knights looked onto him in concern, none of them completely used to the words and voice Merlin used when practicing magic. It was a low hiss of words, his eyes illuminated by liquid sunlight. If he weren't on their side, they would be slightly fearful of the wizard. Especially when he made the small sack fly through the air like a canon smelling of freshly baked yeast.

The bear whined low in its throat, the sound like gravel being thrown by the handful at glass windows. It caught the flying sack in between its rows of teeth, tearing through the thing thread by thread like it had the horse. Arthur was within attacking distance when the beast unhinged its maw and let put the most rancid burp.

Arthur and Gwaine fainted where they once stood. The creature lumbered away like it hadn’t just killed a member of their cavalry and scared them lifeless. Merlin swam across the river without hindrance, slapping both Arthur and Gwaine across the face the moment he touched shore. “You two better have a pulse or I’m feeding you to the bear,” Merlin threatened, feeling at their necks and wrists.

“Please, mercy,” Gwaine groaned, “The thing smells like my grandfather’s cooking.”

Merlin chuckled despite himself, the sound causing Arthur to stir. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” the king murmured more to himself than to the rest of the party.

“Really? I would have never guessed. I assumed you had planned this all out, being killed by a beastly bear included. Was that not a part of your little list of Hells for Merlin?”

“This was supposed to be a date,” Arthur said instead, struggling to sit up properly. The smell of the beast lingered and Arthur could have thrown up. “I was supposed to impress you and confess.”

“Well call me impressed,” Merlin brushed Arthur’s hair out of his hair. It was soft to the touch, even riding in a forest for the whole day couldn’t ruin it. “But I’m planning the next date.”

“Next date?”

“Oh no, no, no, a concussion isn’t getting you out of this relationship,” Merlin shook his head with a grin and a gleam in his eyes.

“I don’t have a con- Ow!” Merlin smacked him over the head. “That hurt!”

“Really? It felt like I was just hitting rocks.”

“You can’t say that to me, Merlin. I’m your boyfriend.”

Merlin couldn’t hide the blush on his face and to be honest, he didn’t want to. “I say that because you’re my boyfriend. It's said with endearment, dear.” Arthur grinned at the pet name, Merlin returning the smile as he pulled the king close. Pressing their lips together should have been done ages ago, it was breathtaking. Merlin tasted of faint crisp apples, Arthur of something utterly his own.

Arthur tasted of something delicious, Merlin decided. And he was starving.

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i-am-a-mes · 4 years

Text

Blueberry Chapter 6

Summary: Y/N is fresh out of college with a small job at a newspaper, when she meets Chris Evans. They start a Sugar Daddy/Sugar baby relationship and try to navigate through their feelings, desires and personal obstacles.

Parring: AU Chris Evans x female plus size reader

Warning: Swearing, angst, shitty coworker, shitty boss, not confident reader

A/N: Hi there. So this is my first Chris Evans fic. It’s still a WIP and don’t really have that much of a plan with it. It will be a fluffy, angsty, smutty adventure spiced with some Sugar Daddy, Ddlg and D/s elements. But don’t expect that from the get go though. It’s a slow burn in some elements. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave a comment and share!

My masterlist

Series masterlist

Chapter 6

After a sunday with relaxing, reading and getting settled in a little bit more at Chris’ place, monday rolled around, and I slowly woke up and stretched out and felt ready for a new day with a big smile on my face, as my dreams had been filled with the memory of the kiss we had shared.

Thereafter I got dressed and went to the kitchen, in the belief that I would be up before Chris, since it was a rather ungodly hour. But low and behold, there in all his perfectly tailored suited handsome glory stood Chris drinking out of a coffee mug and reading on a tablet.

“Uhm.. good morning” I treaded lightly towards the kitchen island where he stood. He looked up and a bright smile came on his lips as he saw me.

“Good morning sweetheart!” He placed the cup and tablet down and came up to me and placed a hand on my waist and a soft kiss on my cheek. It made me blush

Because that's apparently my only reaction to him and any form for affection! Goddammit!

He went towards the fridge and grabbed a plate from it, and a mug from the cabinet, and placed it in front of me.

“Here, have some breakfast and coffee. I need to look over some papers before we need to get going.”

“Uhm.. okay. Oh wow this looks delicious! But I don’t think I can eat it all though.” The plate he placed in front of me, was filled with fresh cut fruit, a cup with yogurt topped with some granola and some scramble eggs on the side.

“That’s okay, just eat what you can.” Chris smiled before making his way towards the stairs, but after a couple of steps he stopped

“Oh right. Before I forget. Here” He came back to me and out from his breast pocket he fished out a key with a note hanging on it. I looked questionably at it and then at him.

“I want you to have a key to my place. And before you say anything, it is just til we find you a new place. There is also the security code and address on the tag, you know in case I’m not home.”

He just glanced back down at the tablet before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Alright" I took the keys and turned them around in my hand to inspect them. True enough an address and a 5 digit number code was written on it.

“Thanks” I just kept sipping at my coffee.

“By the way Chris, do you know where the nearest bus stop is? I need to figure out what bus to take to work…” I looked at my phone seing the time, and tried to calculate the time of travel from here to my work

“Don’t worry about the bus. I’m driving you. So please eat.”

“But Chris, I can’t ask that of you”

“You aren’t. I’m offering” He just gave me a cheeky smile and I opened my mouth to retort but ended up shaking my head with a subtle grin on my face. So I turned around and dug into the plate of food.

“Enjoy your breakfast baby girl” He sent me a cheeky smile before heading up the spiral staircase to his office space.

I gulped at the nickname which made my...everything tingle

Why does he have to keep calling me that?

Succeeding in eating most of the fruit and the yogurt, I began collecting my things to get ready to leave.

A few moments later Chris came down from his office space on the balcony, and threw on a charcoal jacket over his suit.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes” I stood staring up at him with my worn sling bag across my chest, that barely held in my papers and laptop brick.

He looked me up and down

“Where’s your jacket?”

“Uhm.. this is my jacket” I lifted the sleeve of my dark red thin jacket. It wasn’t really a warm jacket but we still weren't in the deep fall weather yet, so I could manage. Which was also the reason I had on a rather thick sweater underneath, and a button up under that.

“Hmm...Right.” He kept staring at me, before grabbing his keys. “Let’s get going”

Chris dropped me off at work, but before I could leave his sci-fi car, he turned to me

“What time do you get off work?”

“Uhm.. I don’t know actually. I usually get a lot of odd jobs throughout the day and don’t know how much time that will take, so I don’t really have an idea”

“How about you text me when you think you know? Okay?”

“Ooookay? Why though?”

“So I can pick you up of course.”

“Chris, really it’s fine. Now I got your address I can totally take the bus. You don’t need to pick me up. Besides it could be rather late.”

“And that’s exactly why I want to pick you up”

I let out a deep sigh while shaking my head “Really Chris. But I’ll text you okay?”

“Good. That’s all I’m asking” He flashed me a smile before I crawled out of the low car and hurried into the building.

As soon as I stepped into the office Jasper was all over me begging me for details about Chris and our new agreement, to which I just laughed and shook my head, and replied with a “we’ll talk later!

My desk was filled with “Ask Helen” letters and it made my head hurt

Did I really get a degree in journalism for this?

I had slowly started to make my way through the pile, when it was announced that our boss had decided to hire a new guy to fill in the apparently open position in the investigation news department, a job I really wanted and Mr. Peterson knew that. We were all introduced to the new employee during the morning meeting. His name was Hugh Willington, who sported a fuckboy haircut and a cheesy smile, and apparently didn’t have a journalistic background or experience, but “he has a natural talent for journalism and passion like no other, so welcome to the team Hugh!” Mr. Peterson exclaimed.

What the actual fuck!

As I sent a couple of the latest edited letters of Ask Helen, my nose got a whiff of a very strong smelling cologne, you know the kind that almost burns away your nose hair. I scrunched up my nose at the scent and looked around for the source of the intruding aroma, and when I looked up I saw Hugh leaning over my cubicle sending me what I suppose was meant to be a charming smile, but came more across as a shark trying to charm his pray into his mouth.

And it really felt like it too. Yikes!

“So… You’re Y/N? I heard you were my secretary?”

“Uhm.. hello.. What? No! I am absolutely not!”

“Well guess you got to hear it from me then little miss secretary. Listen, I got a lot on my plate, and the whole deadline thing is already making me barf. So just between you and me, how strict are they with the whole ‘must-be-on-the-deadline-thing’ around here?”

He leaned even closer, making me almost gag with the stank that came from his nasty selected odor.

“Well since this is a newspaper that goes out daily and people rely on it for their news, I would say pretty strict.” I glared at him as my voice was nothing but a flat line, with no sense of being nice in my tone.

God damn this guy is the worst!

“Sure sure.. I got it. I got it…” He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair before continuing

“So I think you and I are gonna make a great team. You are feisty. I like that, for now”

He winked and began laughing this obnoxious laugh I have ever heard. And just then Mr. Peterson came to see his new golden boy having a good time.

“Ah! You found Y/N! Good and she is welcoming you warmly I hope”

“Yeah. Totally, we were just talking about how a great team we are gonna be” Hugh exclaimed before sending me another wink

“Yes yes! A good team. Y/N you are gonna be proofreading and aiding Hugh here in what he needs, so be on your toes, and make Hugh’s work top priority.”

“Well Mr.Peterson, I think Helen has seniority here…”

“Hush hush. That old lady can hardly write any more. We need new young blood like Hugh here. So make him top priority!” I could hear the firm tone in the end and knew not to argue.

Poor Helen… and poor me!

Mr. Peterson patted Hugh on the back and left us.

“So what I was thinking sweetie, was that you could collect some articles for me about what is happening in the world right now, and then write a little.. You know.. Brief summary and get it to me by.. Let's see.”

He looked at his ridiculous big shiny watch

“By an hour and meet me in my office. Good? Good!”

“No not good! First of all, don’t call me sweetie! And second of all I’m not doing your research. I’m only doing your proofreading. Nothing more! Got it?!”

I stared into his eyes with nothing but fury fuming of my body.

He shook his head and looked down before looking back up at me, with eyes as cold as a winter night and held his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“Listen here bitch! You will do as I say, or I will make sure Mr. Peterson will fire you, and make sure you wont get to work at another newspaper, magazine or website in this town! Got it!? Now get you fat ass of that seat and get to work”

I just stared at him in shock not knowing how to process what vile things that just came out of his mouth. He straightened back up and cast me another chilling smile

“Good to hear we are on the same page Y/N. Looking forward to working with you” He turned and left.

What the actual fuck just happened here? Did he just threaten me? Practically harassed me? He can’t get away with that!

After a few minutes of collecting myself, I stood up with determination and went towards the HR office, but on my way there I saw Hugh and Mr.Peterson talking closely and laughing, before spotting me and then stopped

“Ahh Y/N, getting the research for Hugh I see?” Mr. Peterson asked

“Uhm.. no actually I was going to see Alexa. I..” Before I could say anything further Mr Peterson interrupted me

“Ah don’t bother her. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. So get your little tushy in the archives and find the research Mr. Willington, alright?”

I was in shock. I wasn’t dumb, I knew Hugh had told him all about my disagreement with him and I knew my boss was completely on his side. I couldn’t do anything

“Hi Y/N, were you coming to see me?” Alexa came out of her office and saw me in front of her office apparently talking to the two men.

“Oh.. hi Alexa…”I looked back at them and saw a warning glare from them both. “No.. I was just asking Hugh for some follow up questions”

Alexa looked at me and Hugh and just smiled before leaving us.

“Glad to see we are on the same page Y/N” he said as he scowled at me before loosening up his expression to a lighter one.

I sighed in defeat (for now) and went to work on Hugh’s assignment.

So went the rest of my day. I was buried in research, trying to keep up with the douchebag’s commands on what he wanted to know, which was everything and nothing at the same time. At the end I was only being held up by coffee and the dry crackers I found at the bottom of my drawer.

Suddenly while I was typing away on the final summary for Hugh, the lights went out

“HEY!!” I yelled and got up “I’m still here!” I flailed my arms around trying to catch anybody's attention. The light remained off, and I dumped back into my seat. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath

What time is it anyways?

I looked at the little clock on my computer screen and let out a big gasp when I saw it read 8.30 pm.

What the fuck? How can it be so late? SHIT!

I quickly finished up the summary and sent it to Hugh’s email, before closing down and packing up. When I went to put on my jacket, I heard a faint ringing sound. I spinned around looking frantically for my phone. Finding it buried deep in my bag, not being moved since this morning. I quickly swiped to answer the call before seeing the caller id.

“Hello?” I said almost out of breath

“Hi sweetheart”

“Who’s this?” I was so caught up in trying to get my stuff together that I didn’t recognize the voice

“It’s Chris. Are you alright Y/N?”

“Oh Chris.. Hi.. yeah yeah I’m fine”

“Sooo.. you didn’t send me a text, and now you got me nervous. So what’s up? Found another sugar daddy?”

His tone was light, but I could still hear edges of concern in his voice

“What no!? I can hardly keep up with having you as one! But yeah sorry, I’m just finishing up now. I’m just gonna take a bus back to my place. I don’t want to bother you tonight”

“You are just finishing up now? For real?...Just stay there for a couple of minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Well I gotta stay outside. They are closing up the building for the night.”

“Okay. Just wait outside for a few minutes and I’ll come get you”

“Really Chris, you don’t have to! I’ll just go back to my place…”

“Y/N! Stop! I said I don’t want you back there, and I meant it. Now go outside and wait for me. Okay baby girl?”

I wisably gulped at his tone and the nickname

“Uhm.. okay?”

“Good girl.”

Sporting another trademark blush on my face and feeling all tingly inside by his praise, I went outside and waited for Chris.

A while after Chris rolled up in front of me, getting out of the car to greet me with a kiss on my cheek.

“Hi sweetheart. Let’s get you home”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders after taking my bag and guided me to the passenger seat, where he buckled me in. Soon we were driving towards his place

“So that was a pretty late night? Does that uhm… happen often with your work?”

“No.. well.. Sometimes, but mostly for the main writers or editors. It’s this new assignment…” I drifted on as a headache began making its way to the forefront of my head

“What does this assignment entail since it’s keeping you so late?” Chris questioned as he turned down the street of his apartment building.

“It’s just the first day of figuring everything out and the head journalist is new so we just had to learn to work together, you know?”

I know it’s not the complete truth, but honestly I just can’t deal thinking about this day any more

Once we got inside of his apartment I immediately began walking towards my room

“Hey, where are you going sweety?”

“I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m really tired”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

Just as he mentioned food, my stomach began grumbling making me place hands on it and looked back up at Chris with wide eyes

He just gave a little chuckle and made his way towards the kitchen

“Let me make you something. Why don’t you go have a seat on the sofa and find something on Netflix to watch.”

I just nodded and did as he said, and after a couple of minutes of browsing the streaming app, I landed on some random sitcom show. A little bit later Chris came over with a plate with some chicken and veggies and rice.

“Here.. eat something, then you can go to bed” He smiled at me before sitting besides me. I began digging in the simple but yummy dinner. The more I ate the more I realised how hungry I really was, and within a few bites I had devoured the entire plate, almost licking it clean.

“Wow, that was delicious. Thank you” I smiled sheepishly at him. He just looked at me with a puzzled look

“What? I got something in my teeth?” My tongue went over my teeth

“Nothing. You were really hungry huh?”

“Oh.. yeah. Apparently” I shrugged and turned my attention to the tv

“Didn’t get a big lunch then?” He questioned further

“No.. actually I didn’t eat lunch today. Just some crackers I had at my desk.” I didn’t notice the furrowed brow Chris was sporting and just kept my eyes on the tv, not really seeing what the big deal was.

“Does that happen often?”

“What does?”

“You don’t eat during the day?” Chris had now turned his body so it was facing mine, and I could feel a change in the conversation, so I turned slightly to look at him. When I saw his serious face I gulped and drew my knees to my chest

“Well.. most days I eat a small lunch. Mainly fruit or some granola bars.” I began fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“What about breakfast and dinner?”

I felt I was being scolded under his intense gaze

“Breakfast is usually cereal and at dinner I try to make something, but sometimes...most times it’s just more cereal. Mainly because Allie often takes the food I buy.” My voice became smaller and smaller with each passing word. Chris clenched his jaw at the mention of my roommate.

“Listen I want you to remember to eat proper meals, okay? Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Ideally also some in between snacks”

“Yeah that would be optimal, but Chris I don’t have money for “proper” meals. So I take what I can get.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat and I let out a big sigh

God this is so embarrassing! But at last with my barely there diet I get to lose some weight. He must find that a positive thing.

“You don’t have to worry about the money. Just promise you will take care of yourself and eat, okay? We don’t want you to lose those beautiful curves”

I did a double look at him, wondering if I heard correctly, but he just smiled and placed his hand on the top of my knee.

“Really.. You think they are beautiful?”

“Of course. Every inch of you are”

I just looked at his hand and tried desperately to keep the pink colour on my cheeks at bay.

“Thank you...I guess.”

“You are really not used to somebody taking care of you or complimenting you, are you?” He said after studying me for a moment. I let out a exasperated sigh

“No. I really am not. I have always been the one taking care of others first and then myself. This thing between us is so out of my realm of possibilities that I couldn’t even fantasize about it. You are so handsome and could have any girl and I am just me.. Y/N. Just a girl trying her hardest to become a journalist reporter and do something with her life. Why you even bother with me is incomprehensible. But here we are. You want me to be your sugar baby and I have absolutely no clue how to be that, or deal with any of this” I gestured out indicating to his place and yeah..everything about his lifestyle, and then let my arms and demeanor fall in defeat.

He shook his head and squeezed my knee.

“Come here” He pulled me tightly against his side and placed his arm around me making me feel his touch seeping through my skin spreading tiny tingles up my arm.

“I know this is very strange for you. And I understand it will take some time for you to get used to, but do you trust me?” His clear blue eyes caught mine and I fell into the deep waters of his irises.

“Yes. Yes I do. I don’t know why, but I do”

“Then trust me on taking care of you. Please”

“Okay Chris”

He smiled and let his index finger caress my cheek while he looked over me before ending his stare on my lips. Under his gaze I couldn’t help the goosebumps spreading over my body and when I saw he was looking at my lips, I involuntarily wetted them with my tongue. The action caught his attention and soon he leaned forward and placed his plumb soft lips on mine. As soon as they landed, I melted into him. Our tongues quickly began a dance of passion and as my fingers found their way to his hair and began weaving their way through his locks, he pulled me up so I was sitting across his lap. His hands were around my waist and soon landed down on my hips, drawing me even closer. I felt like puddy in his hands and just let myself be pressed closer to him. When we finally stopped, desperately seeking air to our lungs, he just sported a small smile on his kiss swollen lips. I let my fingers trace soft patterns around his neck, up his jaw line, tangled softly in his trimmed beard and ending up on his cheek bones.

“You have the bluest eyes in the world.”

“And you have the sweetest lips”

He pulled me in for another mind blowing, knock your socks off kiss, and after an intense make out session on his sofa, he led me to my room and said goodnight.

“Aren't you coming in?” I questioned him with a tilt of my head

“Not tonight sweetheart. You need your sleep” He took a step forward and whispered in my ear

“And when we get to that part, I want you fully rested cause I’m not gonna go easy on you my baby girl”

I visibly gulped and he left with a kiss just below my ear making my knees buckle.

Let’s just say that my dreams were anything but sweet that night.

Taglist:

@thejemersoninferno @lickmymelaninn @fanfictionaddiction99 @sebbystanlover-vk @smoothdogsgirl - RPF fics @stankface @superanastasia1981 @anastasiasromanov - Everything but the kitchen sink @fiercedeception

#Chris Evans #daddy chris evans #chris evans smut #CEvans #chris evans au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x plus size reader #captain america #MCU #marvel #Avengers #blueberryfic #chris evans sugar daddy

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thran-duils · 4 years

Text

Performance Art

Title: Performance Art Summary: Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 4,482 Author’s Note: I would tag it dark!Ransom, but tbh, he is the perfect character to be writing for this type of thing. Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You caught a reflection of yourself in the window. A tight deep blue dress – Ransom’s favorite color of course – practically painted on your curves. It was the first time you had worn heels this high in almost a year -- the pregnancy causing too much swelling in your feet. The silver straps of them wove around your foot, a band around your ankle. You had thought humorlessly to yourself earlier it was like you were willingly putting on shackles –

“Y/N?”

You blinked, your attention zoning back into the dining table.

Ransom’s aunt Joni was looking at you across the table, a wide smile on her face. She smiled even wider if that was possible, “There you are. Looks like you were on, like, Mars or something.” A few light laughs shared at your expense echoed around hers. “I said, you look amazing. How did you do it?”

You snuck a quick look down at yourself. Right. Your weight. Post pregnancy. Of course that was an appropriate topic of conversation at the Drysdale dinner table. Everything was about appearance.

“Well—”

“Luckily, Y/N has got great genes,” Ransom cut in from beside you. You closed your mouth, gaze turned towards him. You had taken too long to respond for his liking, once again. “Plus, she is really motivated in the gym. Not to mention, a tuck does a lot of wonders.”

You almost visibly blanched. Almost. You were good at hiding your emotions now.

Joni let out a sharp, shrill laugh. Waving her hand at you, she said, “I knew you weren’t perfect! There was no way. Aw, Y/N, nothing to be ashamed of. I had it done too. Couldn’t stand to look at myself after Meg. She wreaked ab-so-lute havoc. Still does. Luckily not on my body though now, so it’s easier to deal with.”

“Thanks, mom,” Meg muttered, throwing her a disdainful look.

“I didn’t wait long either. They told me to wait six months,” Joni said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “I just couldn’t.”

“Same,” Donna chimed in from down the table. Joni gave her a nod of solidarity.

“Doctor said if she was having the surgery, it should wait until after breastfeeding,” Ransom said for you. “Well, that’s why the baby is on formula.”

He tossed you a quick smirk, cutting into his steak. You watched the red seep from the flesh of it onto the plate, trying to disassociate from him divulging things that should be secret.

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Joni said firmly. “You know, I don’t care what some people say, formula is just as good for the baby as breastmilk. People should trust science more.” You heard a small snort from down the table and did not even have to look to know who it emanated from.

“Of course you would disagree with something regarding science,” Meg quipped at Jacob.

“When it’s filled with mass media lies –”

“Alright,” Donna said cutting into the conversation uncomfortably. Luckily, Walt had left the room to go to the bathroom; he no doubt would have encouraged Jacob’s tirade. Tenseness quickly melted away to charm, “Anyway, Y/N. You do look lovely. And the baby is just beautiful.”

The baby. Yes. The baby being cradled by Fran in another room currently instead of you. Away from the table in case he cried and disrupted dinner. He was beautiful for the aesthetic but when it came to dinner – or any other event Ransom deemed took precedence to your child’s presence -- his preciousness only extended into the collective patience so far.

“Yes, he is sure is a little bundle of joy,” Richard announced, looking proud. Proud of his new grandson and continuing his family line.

A perfectly crafted, artificial smile. “Yes. He is.”

<> <> <>

…TWO AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER

“What the absolute SHIT!”

A shout rang over the water of your shower. You stalled, straining to hear if there was anything else, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What the hell! Who the hell set my alarm to basically blow my goddamn fucking eardrums?”

Shit.

You rinsed your hair quickly, cursing the fact your refreshing shower was being cut short. You had over indulged on the vodka last night and the cool water was like heaven. And now you were going to have to deal with this.

Wrapping your towel around yourself, you continued to hear a loud conversation continuing about who had decided to try to blow someone’s eardrum and not to mention, wake them at an ungodly hour.

It was nine in the morning.

You left the bathroom quickly, walking over to the railing to look down the staircase to the ground-floor landing. You leaned against the oak, peering down at the looming figure over your roommate, Malcolm.

“Look, Ransom, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. We were all drinking. Just go back to bed, man.”

The other guy, Ransom, scoffed loudly. “Go back to bed? Malcolm, my ear is still ringing like a motherfucker!”

Malcolm threw his hands out, “Then do you want breakfast? Alyssa has it cooking.”

Ransom exhaled loudly, annoyance still evident. “Whatever,” he muttered, rubbing his ear, and turned away from Malcolm.

Malcolm all but rolled his eyes before saying, “Well, when you are hungry, it’s in the kitchen. I bet it would really help with the hangover.”

He turned and walked off.

Ransom looked after him before shaking his head and making to go back down the hall to the guest room where he had been sleeping.

Something was bubbling in your chest to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted.

Ransom’s eyes were on you in a moment a floor above him, leaning over the railing in only your towel. Now that he was looking at you and you had drawn attention to yourself, you were quickly losing whatever resolve had forced its way out of you.

“I… I think it was me?” you said uncertainly. “I mean, with your alarm. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had turned it up that loudly.”

He was burning a hole through you with the way he was staring at you. The seconds stretched into miles, just waiting for him to say something.

“You should keep your hands off my shit.”

The words stung. You were not sure what you had expected but maybe with an apology, you thought you would quell his frustration even a little bit. Apparently, that was not the case.

Ransom tore his gaze away from you and stormed off down the hallway leaving you gripping the bannister nervously.

<> <> <>

You would have gotten over the exchange if only you had not run into him a few days later. You were attending a business convention, trying to get a leg up in the industry; you were close to graduating. There were a lot of big names there and you had been drawn to Linda Drysdale, who had taken an immediate liking, you believed, to you. She was all charm and compliments, but they were constructive compliments, not merely for flattery. She claimed to be self-made -- you noted to yourself to investigate that later – and that was encouraging for you.

“Ah, did not expect to see you here,” She said over your shoulder.

You turned your head and your heart dropped into your stomach recognizing him. Ransom. He was dressed nicer now; hair slicked back, donning a dark grey cashmere sweater and cream trousers.

Turning away quickly, heart beginning to pound, you hoped he had not recognized you.

“Seems I can’t get away from you.”

No such luck.

Linda looked at you and then back at Ransom. “You two know each other?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘know’. I don’t even know her name. She just lives with my friend.”

“Oh. Hmm. That is an odd coincidence then,” Linda said. “Well, her name is Y/N and she is about to graduate – with honors as her esteemed mentor happened to mention to me and she had neglected to herself,” she gave you a slight wink. She had already teased you about being too modest about your accomplishments earlier in your conversation. It was only because Dr. Ewiler – and old friend of hers – had walked by and joined the conversation briefly and spoke you up that she knew about your grades. “With majors in Entrepreneurship and Accounting.”

Ransom peered down his nose at you, still not sitting down in one of the chairs. “Fascinating,” he said flatly.

Red came to your cheeks at his impertinent demeanor and Linda noticed.

Linda scoffed, looking embarrassed for a moment before recovering. She scolded, “Hugh Ransom, Jesus. Be polite.” To you, she said, “Please excuse, my son. I thought I raised him better.”

Son? You almost groaned. You did not miss him rolling his eyes at his mother’s comment.

“Sorry,” he told you in a tone of voice that relayed no remorse at all. “Y/N. Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” you said in an even tone, feigning some level of sincerity despite wanting him to just leave. But if he was her son… “I hope your hearing is back to normal despite my clumsy behavior. I am still apologetic about that.”

You were trying to mend that bridge with him; you did not want it to possibly ruin whatever relationship you were currently starting with his mother. You wanted – no, you needed – to have her as a connection.

Yet, you could not quite pinpoint the emotion – miffed? Amused? – that was behind his small, closed lipped smile at your apology. His smile did not reach his eyes, that was clear enough.

“It’s fine,” he responded.

“Your hearing…?” Linda asked.

Turning back to look at her, you gave a little nervous laugh, thinking of a cutesy way you could tell the story. You began to explain but Ransom cut you off.

“I had a little too much to drink and passed out. Y/N tried to help me out by making sure I got up at a decent hour but somehow turned the volume of my alarm up to full blast. Right next to my head.”

Linda snorted, “Oh. Well. That does sound like you.” There was something underneath her tone. As if there was a jab at Ransom. He was stone faced though. “Well, Y/N. At least you tried. That’s all we can say sometimes.”

You nodded, exhaling. Your heart was still beating rapidly.

“So, what brought you to a business convention at a college, Ransom? Surely it wasn’t to see me?” Linda asked, looking at him expectantly.

Ransom told her, “Actually. It was. I was hoping we could catch lunch. I wanted to talk to you about something. When’s this thing over?”

Linda checked her watch and said, “I can really leave any time now.”

You fought to hide your disappointment.

Her attention was on you now. “How about I give you my number, Y/N? I would like to continue this conversation about your business model proposal; it is promising.”

You sat up straighter, heart beginning to race again. She liked your idea? Truly?

“I could use some fresh minds at my disposal. That is if you are interested in my company.”

“Oh. Yes,” you said quickly.

Linda smirked at you amused at your quick response. She pulled out a small card from her purse and flipped it over, scribbling a number on the back. Holding it out to you, she said, “Personal cell phone. Now, don’t abuse it.”

“Of course not,” you reassured her, taking it from her. “That would be disrespectful.”

“Yes, it would,” Linda agreed. She stood up from her chair, straightening out her dress. She held out her purse to Ransom, “Here.”

He took it reluctantly as she gathered herself. You stood to meet her, realizing in your excited state you had neglected to do when she rose. You wanted to kick yourself.

When she looked at you again, you stuck your hand out. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. It was enlightening and beneficial for me to have a respected self-made businesswoman’s opinion.”

Linda shook your hand strongly. “You’re welcome, Y/N. I hope to hear from you soon.”

She walked past you and you pivoted, following her movement.

Ransom was staring you down and you averted your eyes from him to the ground momentarily before looking up at him again. He smirked when you met his gaze again. There was something malicious about it and you did not like it one bit.

<> <> <>

A knock on your bedroom door drew you from your bed. You put your bookmark in place and tossed the book onto the comforter next to you before getting up.

Swinging the door open, you startled seeing Ransom standing there, his large hand planted on the doorframe, leaning in towards you. His cologne was strong, wafting in around you.

“Can I come in?” he asked you without waiting for an answer, pushing past you.

“I…” you started to say, stumbling your words. “Yes?”

Ransom was taking your room in and you shifted uncomfortably. He walked over to your desk, flipping through the pages of your latest pieces of your latest thesis; the one you had been speaking to his mother about.

Eyes ran over the pictures hung of you and your friends, over your bookcase, your movie collection, fingers tracing your jewelry hung on display…

He was invading your space.

“Um, can I help you with something? Is Malcolm supposed to be here?”

“He is here,” Ransom answered, dismissively, coming to rest in front of your collection of rocks you had collected from different parts of the world you had traveled to. You could tell him where each one was from with ease, memory tied deeply to them. He was touching them, examining them, and tossing them carelessly back into the bowl.

Moving quickly over to him, you asked, “Can I help you with something then?”

He dropped the rock he was looking at and turned to you, “Yes, actually. I came up here to ask you out on a date.”

Taken aback, you leaned away, brows furrowed in confusion. “Ah. What?”

“Are you the one with a hearing problem, then?” Ransom quipped.

“I heard you just fine,” you responded, still trying to catch up with what was happening.

“Then it’s settled. I have a reservation at Ocean Prime at 7pm tonight. I’ll come back by to pick you up at 6:30pm.” He moved past you back towards your door.

Your mouth was open like a fish, blinking. You snapped back to reality and turned quickly. “Wait—”

“Wear something nice!” Ransom ordered over his shoulder, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Deflating, you stared at the empty doorway behind him. He had not even given you time to respond – to decline if you so chose to. But could you really decline? He was Linda Drysdale’s son. And you wanted so desperately a break into that business world that she moved in; Ransom – despite his boorish behavior – could be a key to that if you played your cards right.

Turning towards your closet, you bit your lip. What could you wear?

<> <> <>

Holding your clutch close in front of you, you walked next to Ransom after the valet took your car. He had a long stride and guided you to keep up with him. Throughout dinner he surprisingly asked you questions about yourself, allowing you to answer. You kept it short and courteous, mindful about not overindulging. He genuinely seemed interested and you were caught off guard; you had expected him to go off about himself. It is what his persona had indicated he would be like in all your encounters with him. Maybe he had simply been in a bad mood?

At least that was the case with you. He was less than courteous with the wait staff and you found yourself forcing yourself to thank them more profusely and smile wider to try to make up for him.

He picked up the entire bill although you had offered to go Dutch. He had seemed momentarily vexed by the offer but recovered quickly, holding out his card to the waitress between his fingers, not even acknowledging her presence past that.

On the ride home, it was quiet, the windows down in his beamer as the two of you raced through the city. He was a fast driver and it made you nervous, but you tried to focus on the city lights, taking in the night life.

Ransom insisted on walking you back inside and having another drink. He helped himself to a smidge of Malcolm’s scotch and handed you your own glass. You sipped and made a face even though you tried not to.

“Right. It’s not a woman’s drink,” he said, taking the glass back from you and emptying it into his own. “Let’s get you something fruity. Ah, perfect. Let me guess: this orange vodka is yours?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, playing with the top ruffle of your dress.

Ransom made you a drink of the vodka, orange juice, a splash of sprite, and ice.

“You know your way around a drink,” you commented lightly, taking a sip.

“I had the pleasure of being able to experiment with my mother and father’s extensive alcohol cabinet since I was a teen,” Ransom responded, taking a drink of the scotch. He walked around you to the living room. “I’ve always loved Malcolm’s style of decorating. He is good at keeping the Victorian look of the house while touching it up with modern.”

You followed him, listening.

He tossed you a look and said, “You haven’t put your touch on anything out here.”

“It’s not really my house. I just rent my room.”

“I know,” Ransom chuckled. “That’s why I wanted to see your room.” Another drink. “Want to show me it again?”

The way he so flippantly mentioned it…

“You don’t want to stay down here?”

Ransom turned back to you, chuckling. He pushed your glass, guiding it up to your lips. “Drink up.” You did as he asked and almost choked when he made you finish the entire thing. “Now, let me ask you again… want to show me again?”

No. He had not simply been in a bad mood the last couple of times. He was still the same inconsiderate, entitled jerk.

You did not answer him, at loss for words.

“Fine. Thought you would feel more at ease in your bedroom, but I guess here is just as well.” You made to protest but he interrupted, “Malcolm isn’t coming home tonight. I asked because I invited them to do dinner too, but he declined since they are going up north to see Alyssa’s parents. Fortuitous for me.”

Finishing his drink in a quick gulp, he grabbed both your glasses and placed them on the mantel above the fireplace. Before you could react, he tugged you to him, his mouth crashing into yours. You tried to recoil but he held tight, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. He turned you, forcing you up against the wall to further prevent you from escaping.

His hands slipped up underneath your dress, gripping at your thighs.

“Hey!” you finally were able to exclaim when he came up for air. You tried to push him away. “Ransom!”

“Yes?” he asked condescendingly, forcing you back against the wall erasing the small amount of space you had carved out for yourself with the shove. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes! Stop!” you told him, trying to escape underneath his arm but he blocked your attempt, pressing his body weight against you. “Please!”

“What? You don’t like me?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t even know you!”

“Oh, but you want to know me. And you want to know my family. That is clear as day,” Ransom stated, leaning in close, his nose almost brushing yours. “A girl from a modest family trying to get a leg up in the world…” He smirked. “Truth be told, I would love to get your leg up. But first…”

He forced you to your knees, your face close to his crotch. You tried to push yourself up and away, but he grasped your hair and you stilled, gasping at the tug he administered when you had tried to move again.

Ransom’s free hand came down to your cheek, caressing gently. His thumb brushed over your lips as you shakily made eye contact with him. His pupils were beginning to dilate, desire glaring as his tongue ran across his lip. He hand cupped your jaw and he murmured, “You keep saying you’re sorry. I want you to show me how sorry you are.”

You gaped and he grinned, “That’s the spirit, keep it open.”

Gasping when he shoved your cheek up against him again, you felt his hardening dick through his pants. “Come on, Y/N. Be a good girl. I know you know how to do this. A girl like you? From a modest family not in the area? You didn’t get through school just on brains alone. Had to make connections somehow.”

Anger coursed through you at his words and you tried to push away from him once more, but he just wound his hand tighter in your hair causing you to wince. Tears pricked at your eyes as your anger melted to humiliation as he grinded his length up and down your cheek.

Yanking you away, he stared down at you, tickled at the expression on your face.

“You want to use my mother to get into the business world with a bang. It’s understandable, she’s great at what she does. And she has those connections in her hand to give you. All you gotta do is charm her and give her results.”

“But I want you to have to work a little harder for it. You know I can say one thing to my mother, and she won’t have anything to do with you ever again.” He ran his fingers across your lips forcibly. “So, you’re going to open that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to show me one, how sorry you are and two, how badly you want to break out of your situation.”

When you did not answer he gave your head a little shake, “Right, Y/N?”

You licked your lips, a tear escaping. Horsley, you answered, “Right.”

He unzipped his trousers, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxer briefs. You stared at the length in front of you, trying to compose yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. You were backed into a corner, literally and figuratively.

Ransom tasted salty as you took him into your mouth. He groaned the further you took him in, increasing your speed the wetter you made him. His fingers at the back of your head were digging in, forcibly pushing you further to take him even deeper. Tongue swirling, you drew low moans of pleasure from him.

Suddenly, both his hands grasped the sides of your head, holding you in place. He thrusted, using you and you struggled to stay steady on your knees with his violent jolts. Loud grunts left his lips, animalistic and savage. You gagged, a few tears running down your cheeks. He was hitting the back of your throat so roughly you thought you were going to get sick.

Fortunately, he pushed you away. Gasping for air, you rubbed at your throat, trying to ease the discomfort.

He grasped your arms and yanked you from the floor. In a fluid motion, he spun the two of you around to face the back of the couch. His hand pressed to the small of your back and your face came to contact with the couch cushions.

Ransom forced himself between your legs, kicking one out to the side to give himself more room.

“A-a condom?” you choked out.

“You’re on birth control, aren’t you?” he asked, hiking your dress up.

“Y-y-yes.”

He chortled and said to himself more than anything, “Well, we will have to fix that for next time.”

You bucked forward when you felt his fingers slipping inside you, rubbing at your clit. You whimpered feeling yourself get wetter with each stroke. You were getting close; he was skilled at pushing you towards falling over the edge.

But he wanted to be inside you for that; his fingers left and his head replaced them.

When he pushed himself inside, you cried out adjusting to his girth. He moaned loudly, bottoming out. He let out a little laugh before pulling out and slamming back in. Your hands gripped the cushions trying to give yourself some sense of balance as he rammed into you repeatedly.

Ransom was holding tight at your hips, his own snapping off your ass hard enough that it was going to bruise. Each stroke of his cock against your clit sent a flow of pleasure through you until it was like a wave breaking. Broken whimpers echoed as you convulsed around him. When he came with a loud shout, you felt him fill you, his cock twitching inside.

His grip went lax at your hips and he reached underneath, and you squeaked when he pinched at your oversensitive clit.

“That was cute,” he husked, his hands slowly running up your sides. One of his hands snaked around your neck and he pulled you back up to his chest, still fully seated inside you.

“Mhm, yeah,” Ransom breathed against your ear, his fingers flexing in and out on your neck. “I think if you keep this up, you will be the epitome of the type of girl I want to bring home to my parents.”

<> <> <>

…PRESENT

Ransom never let you out from underneath his thumb, not that he needed to try too hard. You knew that if you divorced him, you had nothing. You had signed a prenup and even if you thought you could make it without money, there would be bad blood with the Drysdales and with how much influence they had on the area, you would have a huge obstacle to overcome.

Yes, you got to work with Linda, and you had influence with her. But it was still her business, not yours.

You had gotten what you wanted mostly though.

A family. Money. A place in the business world.

It just came with a price.

Ransom’s hand gripped your leg underneath the table, sliding past the hem to the inside of your thigh.

“Now I have two precious things in this world to me,” he said in response to his father.

Another perfectly crafted smile from you.

And he still had that malicious glint in his eye, even as he leaned in and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Good girl,” he breathed so only you could hear.

#ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale smut #knives out fic #my shit

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redthreadoffate · 4 years

Text

memories and insecurities [sebastian stan]

ship: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: swearing; edited in a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: written for @angel-cap because i asked her to send me a prompt. i kinda tweaked it, i hope you don’t mind huhu. i super hope you like it. warning for you! as i was writing it, i realized i was thinking of my grandmother but what i realized was...it may hit close to home for you. so i really understand if you don’t read it. this fic focuses more on family but there’s some future fluff in the end

summary: it’s just really hard, you know...

You had been crying and crying all the way from the party to your house. In this ungodly hour, you shouldn't have been walking alone and crying at the same time. Your eyes were blurry and your sobs could be heard like an echo.

Luckily, you arrived home without a scratch.

Opening the door with your keys, you slammed the door behind you and leaned against it.

Your father, who had been with you in your apartment for a few days because he was visiting a relative close by, came out from the kitchen.

"Hey, sweetie. How was the party?"

You looked up at him, a fading grin was on his face as he realized that you looked like a piece of shit. Hell, you really believed you were a piece of shit.

"Y/n," he said softly as he put his plate down on the counter, "what's wrong?"

You shook your head. "Nothing's wrong," you said in between hiccups. And did you really have to think ‘obviously he doesn’t think so’ because really, who would?

He walked towards you and engulfed you in a hug. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

You nodded. "Kinda."

He led you to the couch and you spilled what had been bothering you.

Ever since she died, you couldn't help but feel so...so...so not yourself.

You used to be fun, cheery, always smiling. But now, that was just a façade. You were still fun, you were still cheery, and you always were smiling. Although the truth is, you were dying inside.

As much as you loved your father, the bond was different. You can tell he's trying his best and you absolutely appreciated the gesture, you didn't resist. But it was still something else.

Then the illness happened and you were just never complete anymore.

"I'm not your mother," your dad said after your story. "But I can't live without you, sweetie. You are my world now. You complete me." He paused and you knew he was thinking of her, too. "But I know that one day, you'll find someone who will complete you again."

"Daddy…"

"I know you'll never forget us," he continued with a small, sad smile. "But it'll happen when you have your own family."

But that kept you up all night. You tossed and turned but you couldn't find the right position.

What if you would never find someone to help you heal? What if you were going to be forever alone? You never deemed yourself beautiful or great, in fact, you've always considered yourself, and very bluntly, ugly and a piece of shit.

You pursed your lips. 'Oh, fuck. Here come the feelings.'

Although you had your dad with you for a few days, living in the apartment always made you lonely. Your mother had helped pick the apartment, helped decorate the place...it was just a reminder.

To try and distract yourself, you reached for your phone and unlocked it.

Scrolling through it, you had a message from your friend, Sebastian. It was his party last night and you were invited. Many of his friends were great company. And last night was the first time you got to meet Chris and Anthony. You didn't have much time with them but they were fun.

'I couldn't find you last night. Did you leave early?'

He must have seen you online.

'Yeah, had some things to take care of.'

'Are you okay?'

You paused before typing. 'Can I come over?'

'Of course.'

'There are no groupies hanging around, are there?'

'I kicked them out just awhile ago.'

An hour later, your dad was still asleep so you tiptoed out the door and locked it before strolling back to the mansion you were in.

You rang the bell and expected one of the maids or butlers or whatever they were called to open the door for you. To your surprise, Seb opened it personally.

"You're late," he said.

"You really didn't expect me to come at 5 am, did you?"

"Of course I did. I tidied the house for you."

You rolled your eyes and stepped inside. "I have to tell you something."

Seb closed the door and didn't say anything. You knew that he knew you were going to say something that affected you. After a moment, he asked, "Want some sour gummy worms with that?"

You couldn't help but smile.

Some minutes after, you two were in one of the rec rooms. The TV was on but muted, and there was a giant bowl of gummy worms in front of you and Seb. He had sat beside you and you didn't mind, he was a very comfortable person.

You've had feelings for him ever since Tom Holland had I introduced you two. You were Tom's childhood friend and when he asked you to go to a party at a house nearby, you didn't expect Sebastian Stan to become your best friend. Of course, you've been hiding your feelings well.

You sat in silence until you froze when Seb placed his hand on top of yours.

"The party was great," you said.

"But you left early."

You looked down. "I thought I saw her."

He nodded.

"She was beautiful in that white dress. Her smile was bright and she looked like an angel."

"Because she is."

You gave a half-hearted smile. "She is."

Another silence.

"Why do you think she appeared to you last night?"

"...it was their anniversary."

Seb held your hand tighter. "And your dad?"

You snorted. "I cried more than he did."

Seb chuckled. After, he said, "That's not the only thing bothering you, is it?"

"Wha—?"

"I'm not entirely sure why I know but I feel that there's something."

You bit your bottom lip. "I guess Dad was just in a sentimental mood last night, I mean, I don't have any doubts that he was, but he mentioned that one day, I'd find someone who will complete me."

He tilted his head to the side. "What did he mean?" But there was something on his voice that you couldn't figure out.

You got a gummy worm and chewed on it, after swallowing you replied, "Mom and Dad will always complete me, but he meant someone who will complete me in a way how he and Mom completed each other."

"Any prospects?" There's that something again. It was a bit rough but you couldn't be too sure.

You looked at him at the corner of your eye. "May—"

And before you knew it, Sebastian had grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. You were surprised but after a few seconds, you had returned the kiss.

When you both needed air, you knew you were red so you looked down to make sure he wouldn't see.

"I like you," he said. "A lot."

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open.

"And I want to be the guy who will complete you," he continued. He looked at you straight in the eyes. "Even if that means I have to court you until—"

"I like you, too," you blurted out. "A lot"

Sebastian looked shocked for a while before he grinned. "You do?"

"Yeah," you said with a nod.

He leaned forward and gave you a quick peck. "I know you were criticizing yourself again."

You pouted. "How do you know me so well?"

He chuckled and shrugged. "That's what happens when you fall in love." He stopped and then gazed at you. "But really, Y/n. You're beautiful. You aren't a piece of shit."

Exactly in that order.

"But Seb…" you started.

He held up his hand. "I don't want to hear any of those right now."

He positioned himself to rest against the foot of the couch. You were kneeling beside him, wondering what he was doing. He then placed his hands on your hips and then hoisted you up.

You squealed as he placed you in his lap.

"Strong," you commented.

He smirked."I know."

You ran your hand through his hair. "Thank you." You mean down and kiss his forehead.

"You're not alone, Y/n. I'm here for you."

You shut your eyes, you could feel the emotions. You nodded and said, "I'm starting to feel that completeness that Dad was talking about."

Sebastian laughed softly. "You better."

tagging: @angel-cap, @vanillabullets

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #misc: cherish writes

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abcdefanfics · 5 years

Text

Tell me when you're ready

Summary: You have been friends with Shawn Mendes for years now, but he gets really jealous when you get a lot of attention from other guys.

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x reader

Warnings: SMUT oral male and female receiving, dom Shawn, unprotected sex.

Words: 2.1k

“God why do you always take so long to get ready?” Shawn sighs with a small smile. “You can just call me (Y/N) and I’m almost ready.” you scream from your room. Shawn rolled his eyes because of your witty remark. You and Shawn had been friends for three years now and he practically lived at your apartment due to the time you two spend together. It was Friday night and that meant that you two would go out and him spending the night at your apartment. You didn’t mind, why would you it was Shawn fucking Mendes. Though, you never really saw him as more than a friend. Well that’s what you kept telling yourself…

You wore a little black dress that hugged your curves perfectly and you were wearing black high heels to match your dress. You finished your look with a dark red lipstick and stepped out of your room. Shawns jaw dropped to the floor the moment he laid his eyes on you. “(Y/N), holy shit you look so beautiful.” You smiled and winked at him. “So let’s go then, Shawn.” You both walked to the nearest club and you already regretted putting on high heels.

Shawn hold the door of the club for you and you thought to yourself how he was always such a gentleman. You stepped inside and Shawn asked what you would like to drink. “Why don’t you surprise me.” you said more seductively than intended. Shawn just smirked right back at you and walked to the bar. You looked around and your eye landed on an empty booth. “Perfect.” you said to yourself as you walked to the booth. You barely had taken a seat as some guy walked up to you. “Hi, sexy. I’m the man of your dreams. And you are?” the stranger said. “Not interested.” you replied. The guy walked away clearly unhappy with your comment.

Shawn put your drink on the table. “You know we’re not all like that.” Shawn said innocently. “I know, but for some reason I always seem to attract jerks or players.” you said clearly upset. Shawn wanted to say that he wasn’t like that and that he could make you very happy that you were perfect for each other. Something he had wanted to say to you for a while now, but he just didn’t dare to. “What are you waiting for? Drink up!” he said instead. “Yes, sir.” you replied. Shawn groaned a little due to the fact that you had just called him sir and it kind of turned him on. He shook his head and downed his drink. “Let’s do shots!” you yelled. “I thought you’d never ask.” Shawn smirked.

You both walked to the bar and ordered six shots. After you had each taken three shots it was time to do a little dancing. You grabbed Shawns hand and dragged him to the dance floor. You danced along to the music. The alcohol was very present in your system, causing you to loosen up a lot. It didn’t take long before there were a couple of guys watching you with their lust filled looks. Shawn almost drowned in his jealousy. He couldn’t stand to look at it anymore and decided to down another drink, or two…

Shawn was about to finish his fourth drink as he saw you grinding your ass against another stranger. He didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or because he had been in love with you for so long, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. He put his drink down on the bar and walked up to you with a steady pace. Shawn grabbed your wrist firmly and dragged you outside. “What the hell Shawn, I was…” You were interrupted when a set of soft lips hit yours harshly. You were shocked to say the least. “Shawn, what the fuck are you doing?” you ask with shaking legs. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Shawn grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes with awe. “(Y/N), I kept telling myself that we’re just friends. That my feelings would pass, but they didn’t. They never will. I love you and I know you don’t feel the same and...” Shawn kept chattering on and on. However, this time you interrupted him with a passionate kiss. “Shawn, stop talking. You’re wrong. I am also in love with you, dumbass.” your heart skipped a beat as you said that. You realised you were really in love with your best friend. You had been lying to yourself for a while now. You looked into his beautiful brown eyes and laughed. “And now what?” you ask innocently. “Oh, I have some ideas, sweetheart. But I can’t assure you will be able to walk properly tomorrow.” he smirks. “I’ll take that risk.” And with that you both practically ran back to your apartment.

Once you were inside Shawn connected his lips feverishly with yours. Causing you to moan in to the kiss. He grabbed your ass with his large hands. “Jump.” he ordered and you obeyed without a doubt. Shawn wandered his hands all over your thighs and you couldn’t wait for more. “Shawn, fuck I need you.” “Patience, love. Or you’re not getting anything at all.” You never expected your sweet and innocent Shawn to have a dominant side, but damn it turned you on even more. Shawn carried you to your bedroom and threw you on your bed. He took off his shirt and hovered over you. He started kissing your neck and you grabbed his beautiful dark brown hair. Shawn was sure to leave some lovebites on your neck.

“Get up, baby. I want you to strip for me.” You carried out his order and took of your clothes. Starting with your heels. Your dress followed right after leaving you in nothing but your black lacy lingerie set. “Those too.” Shawn said with a low voice. You took your lingerie off too and you just stood there very naked and very aware of the lust in his beautiful orbs. Shawn sat on the edge of your bed. “Come lay on my lap, babygirl. I think five will do?” You laid down on his lap and you were nervous for what was about to happen. He slapped your ass for the first time and it stung. “That one was for wearing that dress tonight. The one that left little to the imagination.” He hit you again. “That one is for drinking too much tonight.” You felt his hand come down on you a third time. “That one is for enjoying the attention on the dance floor.” And you felt his large hand again. “This one is for grinding that gorgeous ass of yours against a complete stranger, when it should have been me.” He hit you for the fifth and last time. “This one is for me enjoying spanking you too much.” The print of his hand was very evident on your ass, while he didn’t go easy on you. But you had to admit that you have never been this turned on in your life.

You stood up from Shawns lap and Shawn started stripping, leaving him in just his boxers. He looked like a god and you could almost come by simply looking at him. Shawn knew the effect he had on you and he had to admit that he absolutely loved it. “Go lay on your back, love. It is time for a reward now since you obeyed so well.” You looked so pretty lying there, waiting for him to devour you. Shawn wanted to tease you a little more, but he couldn’t resist you looking up at him with your gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes. He crawled unto the bed in between your legs and he disappeared between them with a devilish smile.

He started to kiss your inner thighs and slowly worked his way up to the place where you needed him the most. “Already dripping for me I see. Such a good girl.” “I’m always wet for you, sir.” Shawn lost his mind because of this nickname and dipped his tongue inside of you, while he slowly circled his thumb across your clit. You never thought he would be this good, actually you never thought anyone would be this good. He detached his mouth from your core only to kiss you passionately. He then pushed one finger slowly inside of you, causing you to groan. He didn’t wait long with pushing another of his long digits inside of you. Swirling them around and hitting all the right places. You arched your back and came hard as Shawn whispered sweet little words in your ear.

Shawn stepped of off your bed and you now felt it was time to return the favour and you sinked to your knees next to him. You slowly pulled down his boxers and his already rock hard cock slapped to his rock hard abs. You just stared at him for a second surprised by his size. “It’s all right, babygirl. Just go ahead.” And with those words you licked the bottom of his shaft up till the top. You swirled your tongue around his head. And looked up at him through your lashes while you took as much of him in your mouth as you could. Pumping the remaining part with your hands. Your eyes started to water as he hit the back of your throat. Shawn felt he was close and he pulled away from you. “If I’m going to come, it’s going to be inside that pretty little pussy of yours.” He said panting. You walked back to your bed and laid down on your back again. “Just tell me when you’re ready, sweetheart.”

“Oh I’m always ready for you, sir.” That was his cue and he hovered over you again. He rubbed his tip through your folds, teasing you even more. He then slowly pushed his member inside of you. Making sure you had time to adjust to his size. Once you asked him to go faster he just snapped and started pounding into you at an ungodly pace. You never felt so good in your life. You were a moaning mess and you already felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach. Shawn fastened his pace, which you believed was impossible and he placed his hand around your neck. Choking you while you came seconds after. You dug your nails into his shoulders and leaving crescent marks. Your pussy clenched around Shawns cock and it didn’t take long before you felt his warm cum inside of you. He rode out your highs and collapsed on the bed beside you after he removed his large hand from your neck, which had left some bruises.

You were both catching your breath and you stared at the ceiling. “This was the best night of my life.” You smiled after a while. “How do you mean was?” Shawn said devilishly. “I’m not done with you yet.” And with that he grabbed your hand and pulled you into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stepped under the water. You followed right after him. You started kissing again and the water running over your bodies made everything even sexier. You opened your mouth a bit and Shawn happily slid his tongue in your mouth. Your tongues battled for dominance, but he won with ease. Your hands roamed around his body and feeling his muscles tense under your touch made you feel weak in the knees. Shawn pushed you against the wall and you wrapped your legs around his back.

Shawn banged in to you without a warning and you hissed at the sudden pain. The pain turned into pleasure in seconds and you grabbed his hair again, tugging it a bit. Shawn groaned at the feeling and it made him thrust even harder inside of you. He hit your g-spot with every thrust and you came with an animalistic scream. Shawn followed quick after you, releasing himself inside you for the second time that night. You both cleaned yourself and stepped out of the shower and you grabbed two towels. After you both were dried up you put on clean underwear and one of his shirts (which he kept at your place, because you never know). Shawn put on his boxers and you both laid on your bed again.

“So, does that mean I can call you my girlfriend?” Shawn asks. “Baby, after all that you did to me tonight… you can call me whatever you fancy. And I never would have guessed you were into choking.” You laugh teasingly. “Oh baby, there’s so much more I’m going to do to you...”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fic #shawn fic #shawn smut #shawn mendes x reader #shawn x reader #mendesarmy #shawn mendes imagine #shawn

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darksunrising · 4 years

Text

Sola Gratia (9/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : General audiences, no particular warnings.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 9/? (2000 words)

Author’s notes : I’m trying to get the chapters a more consistent length, I think 2000-2500 is good ! Means I’ll be able to work more consistently, but please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think about it ! Also, sorry for all the build-up, but a girl’s gotta set the decor a bit !

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During the following weeks, the presence of the Count became almost familiar. Every day, he waited for me with a different kind of pastry. I tried to protest at first, but quickly had to make my peace with it. At some point, seeing me wince at my terrible coffee, he forbade me to drink it anymore, and added that to my daily breakfast. I asked him exactly once why he insisted on feeding me, to which he replied that he liked my blood healthy, with a toothy grin. I hit him over the arm, he laughed. Other than that, he was careful not to step over my boundaries, and seemed to find the way to only be there at the appropriate time.

That was not the case for Leah, however, who was delighted to see Vlad was going to be a recurring presence in our lives. The two of them got along far better than I would have wanted. Vlad especially enjoyed playing along with her when she started asking probing questions about the both of us, although I had to admit he was an expert at deviating any question that could have revealed his true nature.

It took me some time to fully realize how much he had actually seen, and lived. He died around the 1470s, which meant he had all the time in the world to see the Sistine Chapel being painted, the construction of the Eiffel Tower, or the damn french Revolution. He could have just been a very polyvalent historian, which is what I told Leah. She interpreted that as a challenge, considering he and I were, as she put it, “introverted nerds who need to see the light of the sun once in a goddamn while”. She started dragging us along in random activities. There was a pottery class, to which I was barely able to make the Leaning Flower Pot Of Pisa, while she somehow made an incredible owl sculpture, and Vlad had made a delicate greek-inspired vase. Seeing him, sleeves rolled up over his elbows, hair tied up in a ponytail, his long fingers working in precise, expert gestures, probably had noting to do with my absolute failure to make anything correct. I decided then that manual activities were a no-go for me in the car ride, where I sulked on the backseat, while Leah and Vlad were still crying-laughing about my sorry excuse for a pot.

After the rousing success of that experience, she wasn't about to stop. We did a haunted castle themed escape game, which Vlad curiously sucked at. That would explain some stuff. Leah then found out that a Renaissance faire was taking place in a small town, about an hour or two outside the city, and decided we definitely had to go. I tried to pretend I had too much work and wouldn't be able to make it, but Vlad and her insisting, I caved, and marked down my calendar with the red pen of defeat.

Being stuck in period costumes with the both of them wasn't the only reason I tried protesting. Laurent really did throw a ton of work on my shoulders, and that wasn't considering the whole Stephan Helder situation. The kid was highly motivated, sure, but he started making me feel uneasy, for some reason. After all my classes, he came to chat, and always found a way to ask questions about Vlad. Strangely phrased questions, or about how he couldn't find publications under his name. Legitimate questions, to be fair, but his insistence was bugging me.

“I'm telling you, that is weird. Those are weird questions”, I told Vlad, sitting on my windowsill. He didn't react. “I am serious, what if he knew ?”

“How would he know ?”, he sighed. “Why would he even want to know ?”

“Well, that's a fair question. Which needs an answer, don't you think ?”

He tilted his head, softly smiling. “I think you are being a bit paranoid.”

“I spend most of my free time hanging out with an immortal murder-machine, I think I deserve the right to be a bit paranoid”, I snapped.

“Fair enough”, he laughed.

Being immortal had to have dulled his sense of danger. Although, I could see how a skinny 20-year-old medieval history student wouldn't spontaneously raise red flags.

“By the way, I am going back to Romania”, he told me.

I felt a small pinch to my heart. “Oh.”

“Only for a few days”, he completed with a smirk. “I have to pick up some things, and oversee the moving company. I do not trust them with half my things.”

I furrowed my brow. “Moving company ?”

“Oh, did I not mention it ?”, he innocently replied. “Before I even arrived, I bought a little something a little ways outside the city. The renovations are done, and you of all people understand I cannot live there without a decent library.”

I took a second to process it. He had a smug look, obviously enjoying my confusion. I had to say I didn't even think about where he spent his nights. I figured he either turned into a bat and hanged somewhere upside down, or simply didn't sleep. Did he even need to rest ? Gods, so many questions I didn't even think to ask. Every day, I felt like I discovered a puddle, only to realize it was part of a lake.

“When I come back, would you come visit ?”, he asked, sounding a bit hesitant.

“Sure. I mean, as long as I don't have to wear heels if you decide to go feral on me.”

He took a dead-serious expression. “I promise you, Eris Cetero, that as long as you live, I will never, ever, make you wear heels again.”

I threw my head back with a groan of agony. Was it so bad that this kind of humor was actually funny to me now ? Was having a six century old bloodthirsty creature imply he might try to murder me again really that hilarious ? Apparently so, as I was unable to contain a giggle. Maybe it was because the look he had was all but threatening. Maybe because every time I was near him, even with all that happened, I felt... Safe. For a few weeks, I had been able to decide staying over at the University library until ungodly hours. I didn't have to thing about what time I had to leave at before it became too risky for a woman with very limited knowledge of martial arts, alone.

I mean, he was arguably more dangerous than any encounter I might have had, but still... I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Then again, he had plenty of occasions to lose it. Last week, for instance, I had no idea what to expect when I left my apartment, dosed with painkillers, as Mother Nature, that ruthless bitch, decided to drop by for her monthly visit. He was simply waiting for me at the usual spot, looking a bit off, but holding a large box of chocolates along with my breakfast. He made himself scarce for the following three days, but I could tell he tried to act natural.

“I should let you get some rest”, Vlad told me, dragging me out of my thoughts.

I nodded, slowly. “When are you leaving ?”

“Some time tomorrow. I will still pick you up, if that is what worries you.”

He smiled, teasing. “Yeah, that's... That's it. I'd miss my personal chauffeur.” I looked away a second. “Now, get off my window, I need to sleep.”

“Of course, my Lady”, he replied, and backed away with an overly low bow. “I bid you good night.”

Once again, with a fluttering sound, the usual bat replaced the tall man. I called out to him, offering my hand as a perch. The tiny black creature gripped a finger. I would have expected a Vampire Bat, to be fair, and almost laughed when I realized it was a common little brown bat, only changing in the darker color.

“Well, don't you look adorable”, I told him.

I could take a more frightening appearance, if you want me to.

“Telepathy, huh ? That's new”, I commented. Nothing surprised me that much anymore, to be honest.

I try not to pry, it's usually considered rude.

“You don't say.”

He stretched out his wings. They were so thin I could see the tiny veins running across the membrane. I had to use all my will not to just scoop him up and pet his tiny head, or scratch his belly. Now, that would have been rude. Probably. Those kind of reflexions were a bit new to me.

I would stay here all night if I could, but I am starting to feel a bit hungry.

“Oh, by all means. I won't keep you.”

I heard a small squeaky sound I interpreted as a laugh, and he left. I closed the window, and the quiet made me rethink the situation. If he was gone, that would leave me some time to look into the Helder situation without him interfering. Now, I just needed the help of my favorite professional stalker. With a little smile, I slipped under my covers, and almost instantly faded into sleep.

~ ~ ~

After Vlad let me off at the University, he only came over to say hi to Leah, and announce his departure. He left right after, with a kiss for her hand, and one for my forehead.

“Do you need some ice ? You look pretty hot”, she snarked at me once he was gone. “A cold shower, perhaps ?”

“Oh, shut up, will you ?”, I groaned, placing the back of my hands onto my cheeks.

She snickered. She was the best friend I could ever hope to have, but man, as soon as someone was involved, she became absolutely unbearable.

“By the way, I need your help with something”, I told her, lowering my voice a little.

“Oooh, sneaky voice, I like it already. Tell me.”

I brought her inside, and we went straight to my office, a small, cluttered room in the old building. I dragged a folding chair next to mine, behind the heavy wooden desk.

“I'm having a weird feeling about a transfer student”, I told her. “I wondered if you could-”

Before I could even finish my sentence, she had already taken out her laptop, her glasses sitting on her nose. She turned on a bunch of apps she left running in the background, and turned to me.

“Name ?”

“Stephan Helder, with 'ph'”, I told her.

I kind of felt bad about it. If it was nothing, I was just prying into his personal life – or having Leah pry, anyway. She began typing away, and in less than three minutes, she had results. Stephan Jonathan Helder, 18, your typical genius type. Skipped a few middle-school classes, finished high-school at 15, with straight-As. Spotless criminal record, less so for the medical one, with a few bad cases of pulmonary infections. Didn't have one in years, though. Seemed like he was from a good family, but then again, no information on them showed up. Huh. I asked Leah to look into them.

“That's crazy”, she said after a good five minutes. “I mean, there's barely anything.”

“You mean he's an orphan, or something ?”

“No, it's just blacked out. I mean, most of the stuff has been scraped, erased.”

She sounded annoyed, but also excited. I knew she loved a challenge.

“Nothing I can't break”, she commented, and went back to it.

After a few more minutes, she finally had a triumphal shout.

“Got 'em”, she told me. “Stephan Jonathan Helder, the father is Thomas Mark Helder, and the mother is Mary... Huh. That's a cool name.”

“What is ?”, I asked, leaning over her shoulder to read.

My blood froze in my veins instantly.

Mary Van Helsing.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy

#Sola Gratia #Sola Gratia part 9 #fanfiction #fanfic #dracula fanfic #dracula castlevania #dracula bbc #dracula bram stoker #dracula #vlad tepes #romance #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #vampire #vampire x human #dracula x human #dracula x reader #dracula x oc #slow burn

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banana-with-a-bow-tie · 3 years

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Our Blessed Hope Part 2: The Pre-tribulationist Position

In part one of this series of posts, I tried to briefly explain from Daniel 9:27 and some of the descriptors of Revelation 6 that during the seven year Tribulation period, God is doing two unique purposes, restoring national Israel and judging the wicked world system. In this post, I will try to demonstrate the arguments for the rapture taking place before this period.

Christians who believe in a pretribulational rapture find great hope in this definition of the Tribulation because the Church is not identified as a recipient of this phase in God’s plan. The Church already has redemption in Christ and therefore is not guilty of rejecting him. The Church was not even in existence when these prophecies of the Tribulation were first given and is not mentioned directly in the book of Revelation; we were a mystery (Eph 3:6), and as such we received different promises which give us hope in looking toward Christ and his coming, rather than fear and dread. Careful study of Scripture shows us that only when these promises are fulfilled will God’s time of judgment begin.

Different Prophetic Programs

Those who believe that Christ will return to collect his Church before the Tribulation recognize that, in these and other discourses in Scripture regarding the Tribulation, the Church, the body of believers God is assembling in this age, is nowhere directly mentioned. Instead, the promises are made to Israel who God consistently sees as being distinct from the Church. Certainly, God could fulfill his purposes for both groups at the same time, but as Benware notes, certain texts demonstrate that this is not God’s intention. Paul writes in Romans 11:25–27,

Lest you be wise in your own sight, I do not want you to be unaware of this mystery, brothers: a partial hardening has come upon Israel, until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in. And in this way all Israel will be saved, as it is written, “The Deliverer will come from Zion, he will banish ungodliness from Jacob”; “and this will be my covenant with them when I take away their sins.”

The majority of the Jewish people have hardened hearts toward the gospel. They were broken off from God’s grace so that Gentiles could be grafted in and receive his blessings (v 17). Only when God has completed his purposes for the Gentiles will he begin the work of saving Israel and fulfilling his covenant to them as he promised in Daniel 9:27.

Imminence of Christ’s Return

This promise in Romans 11 is only one of several verses in the New Testament that seem to indicate that the fulfillment of the Church Age is the next item on God’s prophetic timetable. This doctrine, known as the doctrine of imminence, is defined by one author as the teaching that “as of this present moment, [the rapture] could happen at any time because based on what God has revealed to us about His Word up to this point, we currently don't see any prophesied event in Scripture that absolutely must happen first.”[1] Repeatedly, believers are commanded in Scripture to wait and watch, not for a sign or a treaty or a political leader, but for the Lord’s return. For example, Paul encourages the Church in Philippi with the hope of the rapture, stating in Philippians 3:20–21, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.” Paul included himself in this exhortation to wait for the Lord to transform our bodies, demonstrating that he expected to experience this miraculous event in his own lifetime.[2]

This is seen again in 1 Thessalonians 4:17 when Paul proclaims “Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.” Paul speaks as if he believes that he would still be alive when Christ returns for his church, as if Christ could catch us up to meet him in the air at any time. Furthermore, Paul commands the Thessalonians to encourage each other with these words (v 18). If the judgments of the Tribulation must occur before the rapture, this doctrine is hardly a word of encouragement since Revelation informs us that the majority of believers will be persecuted and martyred (Rev 6:9–11; 7:9–14). If any of these events did need to occur before the appearing of Christ, certainly would have informed the Church of this so we could watch for it and know when Christ was about to return. Instead we are told only to wait for the blessed hope of Christ’s glorious appearing (Titus 2:12).[3]

Waiting for the Bridegroom

One other place we see this concept of imminence in a rather unique way is a statement from Jesus himself in John 14:2– 3, “In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” Contrary to the posttribulationist claim that Christ will catch us up only to bring us back down to earth again where he will set up his earthly reign, Jesus here explains that the place he is preparing for us is in heaven with the Father, so in order to experience the blessings of that place, Christ must return and take his Church there to be with him.

Beyond this, certain commentators have noticed a connection between Jesus’ words here and a running theme in Scripture that describes his relationship to his Church, namely that we are called “the bride of Christ” (2 Cor 11:2). This is a worthy comparison, especially in light of the Jewish wedding traditions during the time of Christ. In those days, a Jewish man would travel from his father’s house to that of his potential bride’s and offer a significant dowry to marry her. Upon the acceptance of the man’s offer, the two of them would become legally betrothed but separated for a time as the groom returned to his father’s house to build a home in which he and the bride would live. When the father decided everything had been adequately prepared, he would send the son back to the bride, heralded by a trumpet blast to announce his arrival, at which point the groom would take the bride back to their new home where they would enter their wedding chamber for seven days. After the seven days, there would be a great feast to celebrate their union.[4]

In the same way, Christ came from the Father’s home in heaven and dwelt among us on earth (John 1:2,14), paid the price for his bride by shedding his blood for us (Rev 5:9), united us with him through that sacrifice (Eph 2:13), is currently building a place for us in his Father’s house (John 14:2–3), will return for his bride with the sound of a trumpet (1 Cor 15:52), and after a period of seven years will celebrate the wedding feast in which all the faithful left on the earth will be invited (Rev 19:9). Of special interest is the fact that only the son’s father could decide the right time to fetch the bride, just as only God the Father knows the hour in which He will send the Son of Man (Matt 24:26). The role of the bride is not to look for a sign or look forward to some other event, but to wait eagerly and expectantly for her groom’s arrival. In the same way, we should not be setting our eyes on a date, or a sign, or political movement, but setting all our hope in the day Christ comes for His Church.[5]

Sources

[1] Greg Lauer, “The Ins and Outs of Imminence,” accessed October 6, 2020, http://alittlestrength.com/articles/2020/2006-imminence.htm.

[2] Benware, Understanding End Times Prophecy, 228

[3] Ibid.

[4] Todd Hampson, The Non-Prophet’s Guide to the Book of Revelation, (Eugene, Oregon: Harvest House Publishers, 2019), 49–51.

[5] Ibid.

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lavandermin · 5 years

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honey & a blue moon, aka jeongguk is hopelessly in love with a goddess oc that doesn’t know how to love

+note: mostly fluff drabble for a soft idea I’ve been itching to write,, kinda getting a feel for how absolutely whipped i can possibly make jeongguk

drabble 2

Several times in a day, no, within the hour, sparkling, crescent eyes and a toothy grin popped in your mind, or popped up at your door. At night, under messy covers, you stared out at your heart in the sky. The pale moon was in its first quarter, and it reminded you of his starry eyes, how they light up when he talked to you. You didn’t need to sleep, but it was nice to do so. He was a comfort you didn’t want to admit, though you initially wanted nothing more than to get him off your back. The moon glowed a little more softly at your mixed feelings.

[4:26 am] You: Hey stinky

[4:26 am] You: are you up??

You tossed your phone aside and sat up, hugging your knees. Jeongguk was probably asleep but you opted for the chance he might text back. He had you under favorites, though he didn’t know you found out. It was cute and you wanted to save him the embarrassment.

[4:39 am] gguk OJO: d yuo reali ze what time it is .?

[4:40 am] You: Watch the stars with me :(

[4:43 am] gguk OJO: gods dont need sl eep but I do

[4:49 am] gguk OJO: youe lucky it’s sundaa y

[4:49 am] gguk OJO: yuore*

[4:50 am] gguk OJO: youre*

[4:51 am] You: there was an attempt

[4:53 am] gguk OJO: i trying t keep eyes ope n

[4:55 am] You: poor baby :(( Give me 15 minutes and I’ll bring hot chocolate

[4:57 am] gguk OJO: you’re bribing me nd it’s workin g

You shrugged on some black pants and some sandals, pulling over a black hoodie you stole from Jeongguk’s closet a few months ago. He had 7 different black hoodies, so he wouldn’t mind one less getting dirty on his messy floor.

Within 10 minutes you were at his apartment, black face mask bunched under your chin. There was shuffling from the other side of the door, fumbling with the locks no doubt, and a sleepy Jeongguk finally opened the door. You heart was warm, and you couldn’t help but grin at his goofy, love-struck smile.

His hair was longer, coming down over his eyes in waves and loose curls, bed hair sticking out in different directions. Last month you commented on how nice he looked with his hair growing out, a passing comment that didn’t mean much to you. But being the lovesick boy he was, he stopped trimming it. It suited him, a heartthrob kind of vibe, but you kept that to yourself.

“G’mornin’,” he mumbled, voice husky with drowsiness.It was still dark outside.

“Morning. Sorry for being annoying,” you apologized while slipping off your sandals.

“‘S okay. Yoongi’s not home?” Jeongguk asked. He knows you get restless when you have the house to yourself for more than a weekend.

You grabbed two mugs from the kitchen cabinet. “No, he’s been out of town with Hoseok for the past week. I think he gets back tomorrow.” He hummed, plopping down on a bar stool and resting his face on the cold granite counter.

“What does the god of war do these days, anyway?” he mumbled into the counter, starry eyes following you working around the kitchen.

“Yoongi? Normal lazy-people stuff. Road trips with Hoseok mostly. Not many people know gods live like normal people, or that we’re not just textbook stuff.” You stretched over the counter and tapped his nose, “Except for you, sleepy bunny-boy.”

He broke into a lopsided grin, practically melting at your every gesture. You slide a mug of steaming hot chocolate towards him, and watch him sit up so fast he almost falls off the stool. He was a dork at heart. After an eager, tiny sip he made a face and winced at the uncomfortable temperature.

“How come you’re not gonna drink hot chocolate?” he asked, blowing on his drink.

You shrugged. “Warm honey milk is just nicer on a cold night.”

“Lame. You just really love Ponyo, you weeb.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Can’t believe that in this day and age a mortal boy can call me a weeb and get away with it when centuries ago people feared me.”

“You sound like a vampire, old man.” You strode over and hit his arm, narrowing your eyes playfully at his giggling.

“The disrespect. You’re lucky you're cute, Jeon Jeongguk,” you poked his chest with playful chastising.

Jeongguk’s cheeks lit up with faint reds, his eyes bright with playful mirth and embarrassment.

“You can’t just say that and not-” He fanned his face, lips in a ceaseless grin. You couldn’t help the snort you let out at seeing him so flustered. “You- Agh! You just- just- Ugh! It’s hot in here! Let’s go see your goddamn stars.” He took you by the arm and dragged you out to his balcony, your laughs sweet as you followed behind.

On his balcony you snuggled up on the patio couch, enjoying the crisp cold of the night. A pile of blankets and pillows were thrown at you, burying you in a heap of warmth. Jeongguk let himself fall on the pile, earning a jab to the ribs for crushing you. The cold night air was filled with hushed giggles and sleepy voices too eager for the ungodly hour that passed. It was warm next to him, warm in your chest, and you liked the pleasant feeling it left. The feeling of having another half to complete your whole. To him, you were a puppy-love crush, but to you he was a grey area whose company you enjoy. A lot. And those were feelings you didn’t want to complicate, preferring the numbness that accompanied centuries of roaming the Earth.

All of your friends knew Jeongguk had the biggest crush on you, the spitting image of a lovesick boy. It wasn’t a secret between both of you either, and you humored his efforts. Finding out you were a god, as disastrous as the events were, ended up in him clinging onto you more than before. Fear and ill-intent were expected but not received. Instead, he became a little bunny that burrowed his way into the heart of the goddess of the moon and hunt. And though at first you hunted him down to make sure your identity was safe, he ended up hunting you down without much effort for the following week trying to ask you out on a date. No date, but he got your friendship (semi-reluctantly on your part).

Jeongguk’s sleepy voice pulled you out of crowded thoughts, “Something on your mind?” You hummed and burrowed your body closer to his body, his warmth more comforting than the blankets piled on both of you.

“Mostly you.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow.

“You make me… confused.”

“Confused how?” he prodded.

“Not sure,” you shrugged. Jeonguk gasped dramatically.

“Confused as in- you like me back?!” he joked with a throaty laugh. You pondered it for a moment, let the thought wallow in your thoughts.

“Yeah, maybe.”

At that he sat up, nearly spilling what was left of his drink all over both of you. “Shit, wait. Seriously?” You shrugged, your face quickly flushing and your gaze averting to the mug in your lap.

“Gods don’t really do relationships often, much less with mortals. But you- Being near you is nice. It’s warm and I like it.”

You lifted your gaze, meeting his love-struck eyes with your weary ones. He didn’t say anything else, a loving, endearing gaze with a soft, tired smile. Neither of you spoke a word, the soft sounds of crickets filling the pleasant silence.

Jeongguk broke the silence with a yawn, face relaxing into a content smile with drooping, sleepless eyes. He stood and pulled you up with him.

“Time for bed?” You nodded, a pleasant warmth blooming hot in your chest.

“Time for bed,” you repeated with a yawn.

In the warmth of his covers you laid on your side, facing him. The moon’s faint glow cast into the room and you could just barely make out his half-lidded, doe eyes, a boyish grin still happily on his lips. From the dark his groggy voice spoke up softly.

“Did you know your eyes hold unborn stars in them? They’re beautiful.”

In the dark, dozens of tiny twinkles reflected off your eyes, and for the first time you became flustered. He spoke mostly from sleep, and within the next minute his breathing softened, the lovesick boy deep in sleep. Your mind was still awake, now drifting off. Through fleeting, sleepless thoughts, you considered you might actually fall in love with him, and the moon began to glow brighter outside in tune with your fluttering heart.

You didn’t want to hurt him.

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princiere · 4 years

Text

it's proposal story time fellas

I wanted to write a lil thing abt how the proposal with Akira went so here u go ;v; things got tense but thankfully I have the Anxiety Overdrive when someone else is struggling lmao

also I'm super sorry if the "keep reading" function doesn't work again. I try my best, but sometimes tumblr doesn't feel like letting it work. like I've said though, all posts that I feel need the "keep reading" option will be tagged as long post, regardless of if the link works or not

okay, with that out of the way, time for a lot of anxiety and crying hfjdjg

I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Akira. We'd been friends for a few years now, and only dating for a few months, but I knew him more than enough to feel like I want to spend eternity with him.

I knew he felt the same. He's confessed multiple times in the midst of intimate moments about how he wants to marry me. Sure, he'd get extremely embarrassed afterwards, but he never tried to pretend he didn't say it, let alone mean it. We've even discussed it outside of intense intimacy, and while we were both ungodly flustered imagining it, we both knew that neither of us were opposed to the idea.

It was just a matter of who was going to ask first.

I fumbled with my promise ring - a new habit I'd developed since buying the pair for me and Akira. I felt...much more nervous than usual today, but I couldn't figure out why. Was there something I was forgetting? Akira's usually pretty good at reminding me if I'm neglecting something, but he didn't say anything this morning before I had to go to work.

...Thinking back on this morning, he seemed to look stressed too. Was he okay?

I decide to shoot him a quick text, since work is slow today.

'hey babe, how are u?'

Sure, it seemed a little out of place for me to ask something like that out of nowhere, but I'm willing to put compassion over dignity any day.

Aki: 'I'm alright. Why do u ask?'

'just wondering! u seemed kinda tense this morning :('

Aki: 'So u noticed?'

Aki: 'Don't worry about it, I've just had a lot to think about recently'

That can't be good.

'well, I'm here to talk if u want to'

'not much happening at work right now'

Aki: 'Is that so?'

Aki: 'In that case, I think I'll stop by for a bit, if that's alright'

My heart starts to race. Usually, I'm excited when he visits during my shift, but given my anxiety...I can't help but think the worst, especially with how Akira supposedly has a lot on his mind right now.

'yea absolutely !! I'll see u soon c:'

I shove my phone in my pocket. Well, I've got at least a good thirty minutes before Akira gets here, I might as well try to do some work.

...

Without thinking much, I place my hand to my mouth, feeling the ridges of our promise ring press against my lips.

Another habit I developed.

×-♡-×

After what felt like a short eternity, I notice a familiar man with the messy black hair I've grown to adore. He quickly locates me and steps up to the counter I'm stuck behind.

"Hey," I can only say, unable to hide my grin.

Akira gives me a gentle smile in return. "You seem chipper."

"Thanks, it's the anxiety."

Akira chuckles, before moving one of his hands from his pockets to the back of his neck. "Sorry about earlier, I should've clarified that what I'm thinking about is good."

I instantly let out a huge sigh, earning another giggle from my boyfriend. "Thank you, I was about to start shaking."

"Well, how's work been?"

"Uneventful."

"I can tell. Am I the only customer right now?"

"Are you even a customer if you aren't here to buy anything?"

"Fair enough. Lemme look at your selection."

Knowing he wants me out from behind the counter, I step out and join Akira at his side. "Right this way, sir."

The term of address, combined with me linking my arm with his, gave me exactly what I wanted: Akira's cheeks dusted a nice pink, and he stammered for a moment before regaining his composure. "Just because there's no one in the immediate facility, doesn't mean you can't at least warn a guy when you do that."

"You love it."

"I never said I didn't."

I snickered, pushing against his side a little more.

I didn't expect to feel something in his pocket. It felt like...a small box?

Before I could identify it any further, Akira shifted so that his body was a little more ahead of mine, so our sides weren't pressed together anymore. I figured he could tell that I knew something was up, but I didn't say anything in case I was just jumping to conclusions.

But...that small box felt like-

"So, what genre are you up for recently?" I inquire.

As Akira ponders over our front shelves with the current best sellers, I glance over at his face. I can't help but notice the sheer anxiety he's surely experiencing, given the sweat running down the side of his cheek and how red the tip of his ear was.

I don't bring it up, however. Mentioning his condition only makes Akira go into denial, so I know I have to wait before he'll tell me what's going on, even if I am starting to get rather worried.

As a small reminder, I squeeze his arm a little, and he instinctively returns the sentiment by taking his hand in mine. Since I'm stood at his left side, I can feel his promise ring on his hand.

...

"I think my shift's about to be over."

Akira hums, confirming that he heard me. "I'll be right here then."

Before I can leave to clock out, however, Akira pulls me back to his side, pressing a quick kiss to my temple.

I can feel that box in his pocket again.

I still smile, giving his hand a quick squeeze before slipping mine out of his grip and stepping away to go get ready to leave.

...It can't be what I think it is, right?

×-♡-×

Train rides home are always stressful. Even if you don't have claustrophobia, the amount of complete strangers pressed up against you is bound to be too much sometimes. Thankfully, Akira always keeps me close to him, keeping a firm grip on my hand. It's something we've done for ages now, even before we started dating.

From where I'm pressed up against him, I can't feel the box in his pocket. But with how Akira willingly wraps his other arm around me and has me bury my face in his shoulder, it's enough to convey to me that something is going on. He's never this openly...clingy?

"I love you."

I almost missed it, given the situation, but as Akira breathed those words into my ear, I felt a shiver run up my spine. Was he trying to kill me?

I respond by rubbing his hand with my thumb. I feel him huff with amusement, the hot air on my skin making me tremble for a brief moment.

Sometimes, train rides are stressful only because your boyfriend's being cute as fuck.

×-♡-×

I can sense the change in Akira the moment we get home. He was being his sweet and usual self, but now he was suddenly tense and almost silent. It reminded me of when we first met, when he was acting the same way.

I decide to go against my better judgment.

"Akira, I know there's something you're not telling me."

I watch as he freezes at the corner leading to our kitchen. He doesn't look at me, and leans against said corner. We stand for what was probably just several seconds, but felt painfully longer.

"It's...nothing bad, I promise." Akira says. "Like I said, I've just been...thinking. A lot."

"It's about what's in your pocket, isn't it?"

I see Akira practically flinch, and he begins to hunch over slightly. I finally move closer, snaking my arm through his like before.

It's then that I notice Akira's on the verge of tears.

"Aki...?" I mutter.

"I'm sorry." He manages through what sounded like cottonmouth. He swallows, before adding, "M-Maybe I got too ahead of myself, a-and-"

"Hey, hey," I hush him before he can ramble, moving to stand in front of him now. Akira could only look down at the floor, with his hands buried in his pockets. I gently rub his forearms in an attempt to comfort him.

"We've talked about this before, yea?" I mention, trying to smile for his sake. "So you know what I'm going to say."

Akira moved his gaze to stare at presumably where the wall and floor meet. "But...we've only been together for-"

"Two months, I know." I interject. "I keep track too. But we've been friends for so much longer, haven't we? We've been so close for so long now that everyone thought we were dating for a lot longer."

A tear slips down Akira's cheek, but he lets out a small chuckle. "It was hard to think of excuses as to why we almost always held hands..."

I giggle with him, feeling my own eyes well up. "We were both in denial for ages."

Akira noticeably begins to relax again. "I just...was never able to imagine myself being with someone...especially to the point of wanting to marry them."

It was true. He was always so detached from everyone that it was a shock to everyone - including himself - when we started officially dating. "You've come so far in just a few months." I comment.

Akira chuckled, leaning his forehead against mine. "Don't act like you weren't the sole reason for that."

We share a small kiss, before I ask, "Do you feel better?"

"...Yea."

"Alright. Why don't we have something to eat first before we continue this conversation?"

Akira smiled. "I think I'd like that."

×-♡-×

As we were setting our dishes in the dishwasher, I notice Akira fall silent again. However, he doesn't seem tense this time, so I don't say anything.

...

"...Do you have some grand speech in mind for me?"

Akira looks over at me, taking a moment before understanding what I was talking about. "Ah, well...maybe? Do you want a grand speech?"

"Only if you already had one prepared."

"...Sort of?" Akira averts his gaze, his cheeks flushed. "I mostly just had a general idea of what I wanted to say, and I'd mostly just wing it because...it'd feel more genuine, I guess."

I can't help but smile. "Aw, how cute~"

Unlike the playful glare he'd shoot me for calling him cute, Akira instead looked at me with what definitely felt like adoration. It was my turn to blush, and I avert my gaze in response.

"Either way, it's...not exactly a surprise anymore, huh?" Akira's joyful expression falls, as he toys with a loose lock of hair on the back of his neck.

"I prefer it this way, actually." I mention. "I think I would've just started sobbing if you surprised me, or maybe even faint."

Given how our first kiss went, Akira chuckled at the memory. "We certainly don't want that."

Silence falls over us, and we share a few glances. "So..." I swallow the lump in my throat. "You gonna ask me in the kitchen or...?"

Smiling, Akira takes my hand in his and leads me to the living room. We take a seat on the couch, facing each other with our legs crossed. Without the TV on, the apartment is almost deafening with its silence.

We sit for a few moments, as Akira collects himself. He takes in a few deep breaths, before eventually enveloping my left hand with both of his.

"When..." Akira pauses to think. "When we started talking, I figured you'd just be like everyone else that I was friends with. You'd do most of the talking, I'd get involved in your shenanigans, and so on.

"But...I couldn't help but feel...at peace, whenever it was just you and me. Sure, you were never out there, but you had your own ways of being entertaining and intriguing without having to do much. You're unique, in a way that I can't help but feel calm and content with.

"I always couldn't help but notice your independence, too. You stood out because you were different, like me and the others, but you always seemed to take it in strides. Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, you always presented yourself as just you, and not just another student or citizen. You never cared for other peoples' opinions about you, and I find that...very admirable."

As Akira spoke, he fumbled with the promise ring on my ring finger.

"With how easily we connected, you'd think we were together in a past life." Akira's voice grew more quiet. "I never imagined how amazing it'd feel to click with someone as much as I do with you, and...I want to keep that feeling forever. If you'd let me, of course."

Akira took a moment to dig in his pocket, finally pulling out the small box and placing it in my hand, still being held from underneath by his other hand. He carefully opened it, revealing a ring decorated to look like a wreath with a small sapphire on the top.

"Matthew...will you be at my side...for the rest of time?"

By now, I've started to involuntarily cry, my cheeks burning and my heart skyrocketing. My throat became too closed up to speak, so I could only nod, falling over and leaning my forehead on Akira's shoulder.

"Of course..." I manage through a choked sob. "...God, you knew I was gonna say yes, but you still go and say all that..."

Akira lightly snickered, using his free hand to pet my hair. "I had to make sure you knew that I'm serious about this."

At this point, we're both crying, holding each other while we still hold the box between us.

As we start to calm down, I sit back up while Akira shifts to take the ring out of the box, removing my promise ring to replace it with the new accessory. "What are we gonna do with the promise rings now?" I ask, my face still stained with tears.

Akira thinks for a moment, before suggesting, "They'll get framed with the wedding photos."

I smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"I think I'd like that."

#princely writes #akira kurusu/ren amamiya #f/o #fictional other #self shipping community #self shipping #self ship community #self ship

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silliusssoddus · 5 years

Text

The First Names Concept - Night 3

(Roger Taylor x Reader x Vince Neil)

MASTERLIST

A/N: HI HEY IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! there were a lot of exams

and of course a writing-deleting cycle but i've finally gotten it to a point where 'm sorta content w it

anyways i am so sorry for being all ‘ooh symbolism’ in this part i just...really like fleetwood mac...and i’m kind of trying to do the whole ‘show don’t tell’ thing, but i’m terrible at writing and idk when to use what so...yeah...idk

WARNINGS: very small mention of smut, mentions of people taking drugs (not reader), mentions of coke, weed, alcohol, fluffish and angstish at times, car accident and that’s it

WORD COUNT: 5,456 (a lot of stuff happens folks)

SPECIAL THANKS TO: @scarecrowmax for making sure this doesn’t suck, i appreciate it so much!!

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Elektra Records have signed Mötley Crüe their record deal and they celebrate with Queen. You make amends with both boys, which leads you to the position you were in the first place.

(creds: @taylormaydwithlove)

“Ready Freddie?”

(creds: @getthefckouttahere)

“...grabbed your cheeks, feeling him pull you in for a kiss...”

It was perfectly normal for people to like morning, but some could call you insane for waking up at an ungodly hour just to see the sunrise. But more than often it was because you couldn’t sleep and last night was no exception.

You managed to find your way up to the hotel roof at 5am, seeing the first few orange streaks in the purple-ish clouds, and walked on over closer to the railing.

You wrapped Vince’s jacket - the only thing you could find in the darkness and you couldn’t afford to lose more time finding something else - tighter around your body. Yes, LA had a reputation for being warm all the time, but only when the sun was out.

Thoughts of the past few days flowed through your mind as you saw rays of the orange light flood onto the floor.

Vince was right though, maybe you and Roger weren’t ‘destined to be’. Did that mean you were finally over him? All thanks to Vince himself?

Even if that was the case, you were still mad at him. You wanted to go after the woman and apologise, both on his behalf and your own, but after seeing her with Roger, you began to think that she deserved it.

Turning back around to find a seat, you spotted a metal bench and made yourself somewhat comfy. Your head angled itself so that the back of your head rested on the top of the cold railings, trying your best to ignore how blatantly uncomfortable it felt. Besides, your mind whirred in thought too much for you to even realise it.

Maybe it was how deep in thought you were, or maybe it was because you were starting to fall asleep, but you didn’t realise that Roger had come up to the roof. And you certainly didn’t realise how intently he was admiring you and how you were hugging your knees and staring into the landscape.

“Uh, hey.” he finally cleared his throat to say. You didn’t really have the energy to turn around, especially because you could already recognise the voice.

“Hi.” you returned, failing to meet Roger’s eyes when he made his way over to slump down beside you.

“You didn’t come down for breakfast, so Freddie sent me up to say sorry...or something.”

“I’m late for breakfast? Isn’t it 5?”

Roger let out a sharp laugh at that, so you returned with a look of annoyance. It was way too early to deal with this.

“Maybe it was when you got here.”

You looked down at your watch, eyes widening in shock when you saw that 3 hours had passed.

“Oh whatever, I can wait ‘til lunch.” you relaxed, too tired to even care at this point.

“How did you even know I was here?”

“I guess I know you too well,” he shrugged, “or, at least I thought I did.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re here to talk about. Look, I don’t know how it happened, okay?”

“Yes, but- Y/N I told you I missed you and you just-”

He was struggling, you could tell from the way he paused and groaned in exasperation to let his head fall into his hands.

“You know how unfair that is, right? You had 13 years to say something, but you never did. You brought this on yourself, Roger.”

“I- I know, that’s why I don’t know what to...feel...and Fred wanted me to apologise-”

“It’s alright.” you cut in as a desperate way to help him from struggling so hard.

“H-how do you feel about...me?”

“Rog…” you sighed.

Picking his head up out of his hands, he turned to look at you, his face full of worry when he saw that you still hadn’t moved an inch.

“You know I really like you, I always have and I always will…”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“Everything. Brian, our age-”

“It’s Vince, isn’t it?”

You gave him an irritated sigh again, hoping he’d take it as a sign that you wanted to change the subject. It was the first time the two of you had even discussed what your relationship was, but he could not have picked a worse time to do so.

Giving up, he finally realised the position your neck was in and let out a little chuckle, in hopes that it would be enough to change the topic and lighten the mood.

“Is that even comfortable?”

“Not really,” you laughed in return, “but it’s the only thing that’s stopping the throbbing in my head.”

“Course you got a sore head, you’ve drunk two nights in a row. Uh, here.”

You looked up to see him patting his shoulder and decided it would be better to rest there instead. He used one of of his hands to guide your head, before snaking down your shoulders to place itself on your arm. You grinned to yourself when you felt his hand rubbing your shoulder, while the other rested on the bare skin of your leg, lazily and platonically.

“This might...sound weird...but have you ever thought about what you want to do? I mean, you can’t be around us forever.”

“Christ, you sound exactly like Brian.” you giggled.

“Well he’s right, y’know, you have to find something to spend the rest of your life doing.”

“But I literally can’t do anything. Like, I barely even went to school, because half of the time you guys were too tired or too busy writing songs to drive me there. The only time I actually went was when Oliver’s parents drove me.”

“Oh yeah, Oliver. Never liked that chap. He seemed distracted all the time. But he had you as a girlfriend, I don’t blame him.”

Your cheek grew warmer against his shoulder, but as soon as he realised what he had let slip out, he did everything he could to stop you from talking about it further.

“And don’t say that you can’t do anything, ‘cause I’ve heard you play the organ.”

“God, you’re a genius, I could get a job in a church!”

For some reason, he seemed to think that was the funniest joke in the world, seeing that his chest was rising up and down rapidly as he bellowed in laughter. You joined him, equally as amused, letting yourself get distracted from the conversation you had managed to throw away.

“Hey, uh, speaking of the organ. Freddie managed to seal Vince’s band their record deal and they really want us to be there for their first official concert, to say thanks and whatever, and Freddie suggested we do ‘The Chain’, ‘cause that’s your favourite song...and because you’re the only one that can play the organ...”

“Absolutely not.”

You loved ‘The Chain’. You loved Stevie Nicks, her voice, her words and the meaning behind them. But you had always associated that song with Roger.

“What? Why?”

“For starters, I’m still mad at the both of you.” you said, sitting up straight out of his arm.

“But you’re not mad at Brian, Freddie or John. And you haven’t met the rest of the band. You’d absolutely love Tommy, he’s like a child in an adult body. Reminds me a lot of you.”

“Fuck you too.” you snorted.

“Oi, watch your mouth.” he chuckled in return.

A few seconds of silence passed again as you weighed your options for what you could do.

“Alright fine. But only because I’m not letting Brian down. Or Stevie Nicks.”

He laughed again, watching as you got up off the bench and were headed back indoors.

“I look ridiculous.” you told Freddie, standing in front of a mirror as he zipped the back of your purple leather dress.

It looked as if a low neck, leather top was sewed onto a flared, leather skirt, while being horribly tight around you. But you weren’t going to lie by saying you didn’t look great.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this self conscious in my 26 years of living.”

“Oh, don’t be so fucking daft, darling, you look fantastic.” he said, smearing some bright red lipstick on your lips. You had done everyone else’s makeup in that hour, but you spent a little while longer on Roger as a result of him mucking around.

“You know you look absolutely gorgeous in anything. And you already have two men drooling over you, imagine what they’d be like after seeing you like this.”

He fluffed up your hair again as a final touch for your outfit and gave you a toothy, reassuring smile.

“On the subject of those two men...can I ask you something?” you said, giggling slightly at his comment.

“Always, love.”

“When we went to see them live, I noticed that Stevie and Lindsey kept looking at each other, like they were singing this song to each other. And it made sense, ‘cause, y’know, that’s what the song’s about - them not wanting to lose their love, because if they did they’d never get it back.”

“And you were wondering who you should sing it to?”

You nodded, letting a sigh out along with it.

Freddie noticed that both bands were just an earshot away and if they concentrated, they would definitely be able to hear your concentration.

“I can’t speak for your mind, darling. Just go with what’s natural.”

“That would be Roger.”

“There you have it.”

“But-”

“Vince is quite alluring, isn’t he?”

“And he told me something really...wise, to be honest. He said if we were meant to date, we would’ve by now.”

“That is a good point. But listen-”

Before he could tell you anything else, the stage manager had knocked on the door and warned you all that there were only 5 minutes left until they were expected onstage.

You and Freddie both made your way back to the boys, not at all surprised to be greeted by wolf whistles and cheers from the younger ones. The fact that their leather jackets had the same ridiculous studs and patterns as your skirt eased your nerves a bit, because you didn’t feel as embarrassed. Besides, you were more than used to trying on Freddie’s and Roger’s clothes in the past. This was nothing compared to that.

“Leather really suits you, Y/N.” Roger commented with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, especially that jacket that I gave you. You gonna wear it?” Vince tried his luck.

You had been giving him the silent treatment from the moment you got here. Sure, you couldn’t help laughing at the greeting he yelled when he saw you (“Ah, the royal fuckers made it!”), but besides that you wanted him to know what he did was bad.

“Actually, I wanted to give it back. It’s not like I was gonna keep it anyways.” you snapped, grabbing the jacket you slung over a chair earlier so that you could shove it on his chest.

Subconsciously, you found your eyes flickering up to meet his and it made you stop your actions altogether. There was a hint of sadness in them, like they were screaming ‘red from crying myself to sleep last night’, but it could’ve easily been ‘red from smoking a blunt’. It wasn’t easy to tell from a guy like Vince.

Maybe you were misjudging him though, because ‘a guy like Vince’ wouldn’t be this affected by his mistake only because of the girl he cheated with.

Girl he cheated with. You felt disgusting. But the feeling couldn’t stay for long, thanks to your own empathy. You blamed Brian for the fact that you care too much.

“Actually, it might look good with the purple on my dress.” you spoke softly, taking your arm back to put the jacket on.

It was a way of forgiving Vince, because if anyone would know how it felt to act out because you had feelings for someone, it was you.

John walked toward you with his blue shirt and the same leather jacket as everyone else. It was hilarious, you felt like a motorcycle gang of rainbows, having guitarists in red, the singers in yellow, drummers in green, bassists in blue and you in purple. He was the last one to meet them, having to perfect the curly mess of hair on his head so that his furious bopping onstage wouldn’t ruin it.

“Looking good, D!” Tommy said, greeting him with a high five.

“Yeah, yeah, took you long enough.” Roger grumbled, picking up the drum stick he had managed to drop due to attempting one of Tommy’s drumstick twirls. He seemed to give out another huff of annoyance after you, John and Tommy - the only ones that saw what happened - laughed at him.

“Right. Let’s get going, shall we?” Brian said, managing to peel himself away from a very deep conversation about guitars with Mick and turned to lead both bands to the wings of the stage, holding various doors open for them along the way.

There was no doubt that the nervousness was visible in the younger band. John managed to calm Tommy down and talk him out of drinking right before the show, Freddie kept reminding Nikki how proud he was of them, Roger was trying his best not to bite Vince’s head off but gave him useful tips to ease the nerves and Mick and Brian lagged behind, laughing at them.

You noticed Freddie’s jolly expression turn to that of concern when he looked from the stage and back to you. Returning with furrowed eyebrows, which he then answered by nodding over to the stage, you immediately grew more nauseous.

The stage was set perfectly for the situation you were in. The organ was placed so that you faced both the drumkit and the microphones. Great.

You let out a shaky sigh as both John and Freddie gave you a reassuring pat on the back, before turning to give Brian a hug. Despite having made fun of the boys, he tended to be the most nervous one before shows, so you couldn’t even being to think how scared he was to perform with another band.

“What if they hate it?” he said as you pulled out of the hug.

“Bri, you’re asking me if people’ll hate one of England’s greatest bands.” you said with a teasing chuckle.

“Don’t worry, everyone loves it when there’s a change of routine. You of all people should know that, being in a band with Freddie Mercury.”

“Huh, and people call me the smart one. Thanks, sis.” he laughed, before turning around to set up his guitar.

With a scoff of disbelief, you decided to join Freddie and Vince as they were vocalising and warming up their voices, but it shortly turned into a competition of who could reach the highest note.

Of course you won out of the three, using your higher pitched voice as an advantage, but Vince came very near to beating you.

“Ah, it seems like Roger’s got competition.” Freddie had joked, causing everyone onstage (apart from Roger) to erupt into laughter.

That was over as soon as it started, seeing as the stage managers in the wings were frantically waving for silence onstage so that they could flip the spotlights on.

“Please put your hands together for Mötley Crüe!” you heard from the loudspeakers around you. It emitted a tiny roar of excitement, nothing compared to the reaction Queen got.

“And joining them tonight, England’s royal highness, Queen!”

The curtains drew back and you were suddenly greeted by the faces of thousands, screaming and chanting their names like bloody murder. They seemed like restless, tiny blobs of colour, the way you always perceived the audience to be ever since Roger used it to calm you down.

It was right before a gig at the Rainbow back in London. Both Brian and Freddie had insisted that you sang and played with them for one song and you gave in, but you were an easily frightened teenager and didn’t know what to do. Roger spent the day calming you down to the point where you ran onstage with nothing but confidence.

“Ready Freddie?” Roger repeated the words he was so used to before every show.

Freddie gave him and Tommy both a nod to start their drumming before turning to give you a nod to start playing.

And it went really well. Everything was perfect. Your high pitch matched with Freddie’s and Vince’s low tones, the organ sound fit perfectly along with Brian and Mick’s guitars, which you could keep in time with thanks to Tommy and Roger on the drums. Nikki had nothing to do for the time being, so John had kept him occupied by teaching him a few moves that he clumsily followed.

The audience enthusiastically clapped along with the two drummers, on the edge of their seats to see how brilliantly the two sounds were going to mix during the chorus.

But as soon as you thought all of your own fears had melted away, you made a mistake. Not a noticeable one that ruined both bands’ reputation, but one that was sure to ruin your relationship with one of the ‘two men drooling over you’.

You looked up and met Vince’s eyes.

“And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again...”

You wanted to break the eye contact, but the audience was going absolutely ballistic and the giddiness on his face when he took the small action as a way to confirm that you weren’t mad at him anymore gave you double the guilt you already had. You knew that Mötley Crüe needed this. It was a good way to kick start their band, a way to gain more popularity by actually putting on a show for the audience.

And because you were set on doing things for the audience, you let Vince pull you up from the organ seat and lead you by the hand to the centre of the stage during the little bass solo. The two of you bobbed your heads in time to the gradual crescendo of the drums and you let out a yelp when Vince picked you up by the waist, spinning you around a couple times.

As you were gasping and squealing along with the audience, Vince used his hands to ensure your legs were wrapped around his waist before sliding around your waist. By letting your head fall in the crook of his neck, you deepened the hug.

“Chain, keep us together.” you sang into Vince’s mic once you were on the ground again.

“Running in the shadows.” he sang back, leaning over your shoulder so that his arms stayed wrapped around your waist. His lips then fell on your shoulder to give a quick peck.

Tommy noticed how the drummer’s arms swung down harder by each second, the expression on his face growing angrier.

“Yo!” he hissed to Roger, then doing it louder the second time when the first one failed to get his attention.

“If you break the toms, you’re paying for a whole kit.”

“Sorry.” Roger mumbled, returning his strength back to the softness it was before.

The song ended and Vince made you curtsey (while the rest of Queen bowed, of course) before giving you a kiss on the cheek and a teasing slap on the ass to send you off backstage.

And you didn’t think much of it, because it was only for the audience.

It was only for the audience.

The sentence was the only thing that kept Roger calm.

It was only for the audience.

Vince didn’t mean it and you didn’t actually choose him.

You were sat on the floor of the band’s apartment, chatting away with a drunk/slightly high Nikki and finding out that the two of you were more similar than you thought you were.

The topic of parents came up when you noticed a lady had walked over to you, holding out a plate with two lines of coke. Nikki looked ecstatic, rubbing his hands together before picking up the tiny, metal straw. He looked at your blank expression and pointed to the second straw on the plate in confirmation.

“Oh, I don’t-”

“Just one line. I promise I won’t make you an addict.” he laughed.

“I’m good, thank you though.” you laughed in return.

And just on cue, Freddie had waltzed his way over.

“Yo Fred! Want a line?”

“Course I do!” he exclaimed, picking up the straw and copying Nikki’s movements from before.

“I didn’t know cocaine was your thing, Fred.”

“Neither did I. But it doesn’t hurt to try new things. Have a great night, darlings. Ta!” he cheered, getting up to turn on his heel and walk away.

You were about to ask Nikki for a line yourself, but Tommy shortly stumbled toward you after Freddie had left.

“Y/N...I have a serious question for you.” he spoke, forcing creases on his forehead to show that he was indeed being serious. It concerned you, if you were being honest.

“Sure…”

“Are you a witch?” he continued, still no sign of it being a joke on his face.

But you did notice that there was something off in his eyes and you turned to Nikki for help. He only mouthed the word ‘drugs’ and gave a very drawn out nod to ensure that you understood, which you showed by laughing.

“And why do you think that?”

“‘Cause Vince is going crazy about you, dude! It’s like you’ve got him in a spell or some shit. Look.”

And sure enough, you heard the repetitive chanting of your name, accompanied by the blonde singer hopping around the place.

“It’s fucking wild, man. He’s never done this for any other girl.”

You felt your cheeks heating up wildly at the realisation, more so when he decided to add the words ‘I’ and ‘love’ in the mix.

“Who’s up for a beer drinking contest?” he suddenly screamed, evoking a loud cheer from everyone at the party.

There was only one voice that didn’t do the same.

“We don’t have any fucking beers, dumbass.” Mick chuckled.

“Well, I’ll go get some.” he slurred, stumbling his way over to the ashtray in which his car keys were, but falling before he had the chance to even stand up properly.

“Take Y/N with you. She’s the only sober one here.” Tommy chipped in, earning drunk nods of the head from the rest of the boys that wanted you two to make up.

Roger himself nodded, too enticed in an argument with a woman about how bad Queen’s music was. But he didn’t seem mad, rather the opposite. They kept giving each other teasing touches and you suddenly didn’t want to be sober anymore.

You managed to steal Vince’s bottle of vodka and take a swig from it as you were walking out of the house, resulting in him giving out a cry at his stolen good.

“Shit...I didn’t bring my license.” you huffed after you had ruffled through your purse.

“‘S fine, I can drive.” he mumbled, slamming his hip square against the back of his car.

“You sure about that?” you giggled, tightening your grip around the neck of the bottle when he tried to grab for it.

“I know these roads like the back of my hand, pretty lady. And you know how much I look at that.” he winked.

His hands fumbled on his car keys, but eventually managed to put the key in and start the car. For a drunk man, he was surprisingly good at driving, but you guessed it was just muscle memory.

The car radio played softly, tinkling out different hits from the 70s. Vince drunkenly nodded along to the beat of the songs, singing along if he knew the words or looking over to you singing and laughing at the exaggerated movements you made to the love songs.

You loved the way he laughed. You loved the way his teeth glistened and his eyes shone when he did and how the night lights enunciated all of that. The sound itself was boyish and charming and made your heart soar every time you heard it and washed away some of the fears you had letting a drunk man drive.

“Wait wait wait...I need to pull over.” he stated after 5 songs, slowing the car down and parking it on the sidewalk.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“...I want a blowjob.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Vince.” you laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

“No don’t worry, that’s not the reason.”

The smirk he gave you before he left the car made you fear for your life even more.

He appeared once again, now right outside the car door, and opened it up for you.

“M’lady.” he kept the smirk, earning a playful kiss on the cheek from you as you got out of the car.

He took your hand and lead you in the direction of a tatty, old and seemingly abandoned building, with its door broken so anyone could come in. There were no signs, but it screamed ‘keep out’. And Vince didn’t obey.

He dragged you through the endless corridor, which was only lit up by a few lamps scattered on the walls here and there, but you eventually managed to end up in a place that felt colder. Dragging you to a stop, he slammed his hand on the wall and activated some kind of switch that lit up the pool in front of you.

“This place always looks better at night.” he spoke proudly.

“Vince, why are we here?” you asked, trying your best not to sound as irritated as you were.

As you stood there grumbling to yourself, you didn’t notice that Vince had put you on the perfect spot right on the edge of the pool and had lined his hands on your shoulders to push you in.

You fell in with a scream and a loud splash, flailing your arms and legs around desperately to get above water.

Seeing Vince collapsing to the ground in laughter sent something through you. It wasn’t anger or irritation - you just wanted to find a way to get back. So you swam up to the edge and had him perch closer to you.

His childish grin and droopy, naïve eyes almost made you feel bad for even planning your impromptu revenge, so you decided to take it easy on him. You bunched up the front of his shirt and pulled him toward you with your lips puckered, but ducked under the water before your lips could touch. It caused him to tumble into the pool beside you and a louder fit of laughter from you.

“You asshole! I can’t swim!” he gargled, swinging his arms around in desperate need of something to grab on.

A pang of guilt hit you in the chest and you immediately made your way over to him, avoiding the splashes of water the best you could. But as soon as he had access to your shoulders, he found a way to push you down underwater, completely off-guard so you didn’t have the chance to take a deep breath, and kept you there for a few seconds.

When you came back up, you were fuelled with nothing but anger. Maybe a little bit of hysteria along with it.

“Wanker!”

You managed to send a huge wave of water crash over him with your arm, to which he returned the favour and did the same, and things continued like that for a bit. Until he dived down at the same time as you and grabbed your cheeks, feeling him pull you in for a kiss.

Slowly, your laughter came to a halt after the two of you came back up for air, him getting a chance to get a hold of your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. It also gave you both a chance to look into each other’s eyes properly, like when you were in the bathroom, or when you were onstage.

There was still that sense of awe in the way he looked back at you and it was still evident despite the alcohol. It warmed your heart to see, but it didn’t feel right at the same time.

“Stop thinking.” he grumbled, wading through the water over to the edge of the pool with you still in his hold.

“What d’ya mean?” you queried when he hoisted you up onto the concrete surface again.

“Lemme show you.” he stated, reaching over to the jacket he smartly placed on the poolside before you pulled him in. You hadn’t even noticed he had bought his Polaroid along with him, due to the fact that the bag holding the camera was hidden under his jacket.

(thank daniel webber for inspiring this part, i love his photography)

“Say cheese!” he said after pulling the camera out, drawing out the ‘e’ in an adoring manner.

So you gave him a big smile as you were blinded by the flash for a few seconds, but when he looked at what he had taken, you saw that the smile on his own face had disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” you pushed when he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“You’re thinking.” he repeated, showing you the picture. You couldn’t see what was wrong, though.

“The light from the pool fills your eyes and your face perfectly. You’re so fucking gorgeous. But your smile ain’t right, babe.”

You bit your lip, not because you didn’t understand what he meant, but you were scared of what he was implying.

“You wish I was Roger, don’t you?”

The sentence hit harder than it was supposed to. Even Vince could see that.

“I- Vince-”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can take you back.” he hummed sadly, hoisting himself onto the poolside next to you.

“No- Vince, please, I want to be here.” you said, but even he could detect the uncertainty in your words.

“I want you.” you corrected yourself

“Then prove it.”

You pulled him by the neck for a rough, messy kiss, causing him to topple onto you. But he pulled away as quick as the kiss started.

“I’d continue if it wasn’t for those two cockblockers standing there.” he answered your confused expression.

You turned to look at what Vince was referring to, only to meet the eyes of two scary-looking security guards (that’s what you assumed they were at least) towering over the two of you with stern faces and crossed arms.

“You’ve got 5 seconds to leave before we call the cops.”

With that, Vince leapt off you and pulled you up with him so that you could bolt out the building into your car again, laughing like mad men along the way.

“That was the most embarrassing to ever happen to me.” you half-mumbled, half-laughed to yourself.

“Let’s get these fuckin’ beers!” he whooped, igniting the car once more and speeding down the road.

It didn’t take long for Vince to drive to the nearest gas station and use his rockstar money to get 8 boxes of 8 cans of beer, which he then had to buckle a seatbelt over because it was his ‘duty as a father to protect his children’ and ‘you’re the mother, you should be concerned about their safety too’.

The ride back to their apartment had a lot of stopping and starting again, as Vince kept his hand on your thigh and couldn’t help going further. You had to frequently scold him and tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but of course he didn’t want to.

‘Baby, It’s You’ started to play on the radio and the two of you simultaneously went to turn the volume up. Vince then rolled down all the windows so that everyone in their cars and their pet dogs could hear the song and your voices harmonising/borderline screaming.

But Vince didn’t keep his eyes on the road at all and you were having too much fun to notice. He leant in to your side to try and steal a kiss, but he pulled the steering wheel in the same direction without realising it. The car skidded and spun in the direction of the grassy field next to you and before you had the chance to grab the wheel and put the car back on track, two blinding lights suddenly appeared in the darkness with a blaring noise you assumed was the horn.

The only sounds you could hear after that was the shattering of glass, the screeching of both cars attempting to break and the song quietly playing in the background. Only, it wasn’t The Beatles’ soothing vocals, nor was it Vince’s.

“I love you too, Roger.”

“Holy shit.”

TAGLIST: @lifesasickjoke @slowandangry @rrrogah-tayluhh @fatbottomedgorl @ugly-shirts-girl @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @kawennote09 @totallynotkaibiased @amy-brooklyn99 @hannafuckingsucks @miss2001babe @anxious-diabetic @drowsebaby

PART 4

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