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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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REMINDER

a/n: i’ve had this idea on my mind all weekend and finally got around to write it! just a short little oneshot of Bucky finally realizing he should make his move 😌

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, gunshot

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

Bucky hated Tony’s luxurious parties, but as part of the team, he could just never avoid them, someone always came into his room and forced him to join the others, telling him it would be so much fun. It was never. He doesn’t even know what he would find fun anymore, having his life back after all these torturous years, it’s hard to find what brings him happiness, but schmoozing with Tony’s friends and the team and all the agents is just not his cup of tea. He would rather hide in his room, read a book or catch up with whatever show he has been watching lately.

The night he met you was a similar one. Steve was the first one to drop by his room, trying to convince him to get dressed and join the rest of the team for a drink, but Bucky resisted until his friend gave up and left, but then came Natasha. She just always knew how to play the strings to make him do what she wanted. After a bit of persuasion he finally agreed to make an appearance, though he made it clear he wouldn’t be there too long.

After changing into a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeved shirt that hid his metal arm quite well, he made his way to the party, already feeling grumpy that he had to socialize. It was just like the last time. He got himself a drink, talked a little to Steve, then Banner and Nat and then hid in the corner of the room, avoiding any new faces, not in the mood to introduce himself. He was about to sneak out and go back to his room finally when he first saw you.

You were a relatively new agent in the tower. Having only been there for a few weeks, you didn’t have the chance to meet Bucky since he was on a mission up until a few days ago. You were a bit of a social butterfly, it didn’t take you too long to make friends in the Tower and you found yourself getting the closest to Wanda for some reason.

When Bucky saw you that evening you were talking to her near a high table, nursing a drink in your hands. You wore a white, tight dress that made it no secret how much all the training had helped to form your body through the years. He couldn’t hear your voice, but when he saw your smile, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

Your eyes caught his gaze lingering on you and he quickly turned away, feeling his cheeks growing hot, as if he was a kid caught red-handed of something troublesome. Bucky hoped you didn’t notice it or that he didn’t cross any lines, asking for another drink for himself he was planning to chug the whole thing down and then leave before he could embarrass himself any more. What he was not expecting was you making your way towards him to introduce yourself to the man you’d only heard about, but hadn’t met. He was so busy with making up his plan about how to escape and then thanking his drink to the bartender, that he didn’t even notice you approaching him. So when he turned to the left and was about to walk away he bumped right into you, some of his vodka soda spilling to your dress, making it stick to your skin on your thigh.

“Oh shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t looking, I’m so so—“

“It’s alright,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed a few napkins from the bar to soak up some of the wetness.

“I totally ruined it, right? I’ll buy you another dress or pay for this one, I’m so sorry,” he kept rambling, feeling like a total idiot.

“It’s just a dress,” you smiled at him warmly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s… it’s a pretty dress,” Bucky found himself saying and when he saw your eyebrows raising, he almost wanted to take it back.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before. I’m Agent Y/L/N and you must be Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled at him, holding out a hand for him that he took and delicately shook.

“Just… call me Bucky,” he nodded with a shy smile and that was the start of something new in his life.

He found himself bumping into you all the time, in the controlling room, the gym, the kitchen, you were everywhere. Though it might not had been that coincidental, Bucky found himself learning your routine pretty fast and made his own schedule according to that. He couldn’t help it, you were the sweetest and most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he found himself being drawn to you. And you didn’t mint it, not even a bit. A special bond started to form between the two of you, movie nights, shared missions, runs around the city, you always had something to do together and Bucky was falling for you more and more with every passing day.

Nat and Steve liked to tease him about his growing feelings, but utterly with the intention of forcing him to make a move finally.

“What are you waiting for, Barnes?” Nat questioned him one afternoon when she caught him eyeing you in the controlling room.

“What are you talking about?” he cleared his throat, pretending like he had no idea, but he wasn’t a good actor.

“Just ask her out.”

“No,” he shook his head, folding his arms on his chest.

“Why not? She has the same heart eyes for you that you have for her,” she rolled her eyes nodding in your way. You were sitting behind a desk, oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the room.

“She is just friendly. That’s all we are. Friends.”

“We are friends, Barnes. You and her? That’s more than that,” Nat pointed it out and he looked in your way, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched you type something out on the computer. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you looked up, eyes meeting his and a warm smile tugging on your lips. Bucky could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, just like every time you looked at him with those bright eyes of yours.

He couldn’t bring himself to make an actual move. He was always so afraid you’d reject him and the friendship you shared was one of the most important things in his life. He didn’t want to risk losing it. Besides, he always thought he would have time to figure out what to do. Even if he decided to confess to you, he couldn’t just do it out of the blue, he needed time which he thought he had. It was up until the two of you went on a mission together and it didn’t go according to plan.

You were supposed to stay together during the raid, but you convinced him to split up when you started chasing some bad guys and they parted ways.

“It’s going to be fine, Bucky. You go that way and I’ll meet you by the jet, alright?” you told him before running off the other direction. He wanted to go after you, not let you go alone, but he didn’t listen to his instinct.

Now he is running through the maze of hallways after you asked for help through the com. Natasha is on her way too, but she is way farther from your location than he is.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he calls out, trying to find the right way. Gunshots are heard outside and Tony makes some stupid joke about Steve, but Bucky ignores it, he just wants to hear your voice.

“Yeah, but I’m out of bullets, hurry—“

A series of gunshots rips through the com and he hears your painful grunt, the sound of your whimper turning his blood cold right away.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?!” he shouts, speeding down the hallways leading to the place where you’re supposed to be according to your tracker.

“I got—Shit I got shot,” you groan, the end fading out as your voice breaks.

He bursts through the double door and immediately sees the man that most likely shot you, holding up his gun Bucky shoots him in the chest so fast the guy didn’t even have time to aim at him.

“Y/N!” he calls out, frantically looking for you.

“Bucky!” he hears your faint voice coming from behind a desk. He sprints to you, kneeling down next to you and horror shakes through his whole body when he sees the relatively big pool of blood around you as you try to push your hands to the wound on your thigh. “I think… I think it grazed an artery,” you faintly tell him, a few tears rolling down your cheek.

“Fuck, no, no, stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!” he tells you, ripping off the sleeve of his shirt, wrapping it around your leg as tight as possible to try to stop the bleeding. “Y/N was shot, she is losing blood rapidly. We need to get her out now!” he demands through the com while you are slowly losing your consciousness. “Don’t fall asleep, alright? Stay with me! Talk to me!” he begs you as he cradles you into his arms and heads out to the jet.

“I can’t…” you breathe out, your head falling to his shoulder as he carries you in bridal style.

“Of course you can. And you will. You are not dying on me, understood?”

“It’s not like… I have a choice,” you tell him with a faint smile, your eyes slowly closing.

“Y/N, don’t fall asleep! Just hang in there a little longer!”

He makes it out of the building, Natasha and Steve joining him on the way, the jet already waiting for them. You try to keep your eyes open, Bucky keeps asking you questions and doesn’t leaves you until he hears an answer.

“This was not how I imagined my death,” you mumble, lying on the floor of the jet as it takes off, heading back to the Tower where Dr. Cho is already waiting for you.

“It’s not that, Y/N, that’s not happening now. Just stay with me okay?” Bucky begs you, holding your hand in his while Natasha works on your leg, trying her best to keep you from losing any more blood.

“So eager to keep me alive, hmm?” you smile, eyes dropping closed, but Bucky squeezes your hand, making you to look at him.

“Of course. I still owe you a new dress, don’t I?” he tries to joke, but you don’t answer. You lost your fight and let yourself lose consciousness as Bucky keeps calling your name over and over again, but you never answer him.

The next twenty-four hours is a blur to both you and him as well. For him because he refuses to leave your side once you are out of Dr. Cho’s hands, he stays sitting on the uncomfortable chair by your bed no matter what as members of the team drop by every once in a while. And for you because you keep drifting in and out of consciousness, but you’re never strong enough to actually open your eyes, you only hear voices. Mostly Bucky’s.

One time you hear him talking to Steve, their voices sound distant, but you can understand the words clearly.

“I shouldn’t have let her go alone,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Steve tries to convince her, but it sounds like Bucky is too stubborn to listen to his friend.

“We were supposed to stay together. It was my fault.”

You want to protest. You want to tell him it was none of his fault, but you can’t bring yourself to speak and the darkness pulls you in again, cutting you off of the world. Next time your mind wakes up, you hear Natasha’s soothing voice.

“Why don’t you go and sleep a little? I’ll stay with her,” she offers and that’s when you feel a warm hold on your left hand.

“No,” Bucky answers from beside you. “I’m staying, but thanks.”

“Alright, are you hungry then? I can bring you something.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly and you can tell just from his voice that he is so broken, beating himself over what happened. But once again, you are not strong enough to speak and you fall back asleep again.

But the third time you wake up you can actually bring yourself to open your eyes. The bright neon lights are a little blinding, so you need to blink a few times before you get used to them. It takes a couple of seconds to take in your surroundings and then your eyes fall on the sitting form next to your bed.

Bucky is reading a book you gave him a few weeks ago, it’s the first Hunger Games, you thought he would like the story a lot and judging from how far he is in it, he really does. He is so lost between the lines that he doesn’t realize that your eyes opened.

“Bucky?” you call out, your throat feels as dry as a desert and his blue eyes immediately snap at you, putting the book aside as he leans forward to grab your hand gently in his again.

“Hey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” he asks you, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like shit,” you chuckle, making him smile as well, but his eyes still hold a lot of pain from seeing you like this. “I’m thirsty.”

“Here.” He grabs a bottled water from the bedside table and pours some into a paper cup, helping you drink it and you feel like you were reborn.

“Thanks. What… How long have I been out?” you ask, pushing yourself up a bit so you’re leaning against the headboard.

“A little over a day. Dr. Cho said it could take you a few days to wake up after all the blood you lost.”

Now that he has brought it up, you realize that your thigh is wrapped up, a constant, blunt pain gripping your nerves. You push the white covers off of yourself so you can take a look at the slightly bloody bandages hugging your leg. You already know it will leave a nasty scar on you.

“I should have been there,” Bucky speaks up seeing you eyeing your leg. You look at him shaking your head.

“No. You couldn’t have known and I was the one who told you to go the other way. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have just told you no. I should have.”

“Bucky, stop,” you breathe out, gripping his hand tight in your hold. “You brought me out of there, practically saved my life. If anything I should be thanking you.”

“But I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first pla—“

“Shut up, Sergeant,” you chuckle softly. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Bucky’s face softens as he stares back at you nodding shortly. He can’t even describe how thankful he is to hear your voice again, the silence in the room was like torture for him, watching you lie on the bed completely still and there was nothing he could do to help you. But now he has you back and this whole fiasco made him realize that he doesn’t have all the time in the world with you.

Your recovery is faster than expected thanks to Helen’s amazing work. Two days after you woke up you are dismissed and you are back in your own room. Bucky has been by your side all along and you had to send him back to his room during the night because he wanted to sleep in that uncomfortable chair again. Eventually you convinced him to get some sleep but he was already in the room when you woke up in the morning. Now that you are out of medical care he is still following you like a little puppy, ready to do anything you need help with.

“You know, I just have to use my clutch for a few more days, but I’m totally fine,” you chuckle when he helps you put your stuff away arriving back to your room while you lie down.

“I know, but I want to help,” he smiles, nodding shortly. “And… I have something for you,” he then adds with a boyish smile.

“A surprise?”

“An ‘I’m glad you didn’t die during mission’ surprise,” he smirks, making you chuckle. He shuffles out of the room and then returns with a baby blue paper bag in his hands. Walking over to the bed he sits to the edge handing the gift to you.

“When did you have time to buy it? You never even left my side,” you ask with a suspicious look.

“Nat helped me a little,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. You dig into the bag and your fingers find a soft material, making you gasp before you could even see the item. You just already know what it is. Pulling out you’re staring at a white dress, similar to the one you wore at the party the two of you met officially. The one he spilled his drink on and promised to buy a new one.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have,” you breathe out, eyes softening at the man who is now eyeing you with a gentle look, clearly feeling shy and nervous about the gift.

“I don’t know if you remember it but when we were in the jet I told you I still owe you one,” he explains as you lay the fabric across your legs, smoothing your hand over the silky fabric as you smile to yourself.

“I do remember that. Actually, that’s the last thing I remember.”

“I wanted to keep my word,” he mumbles under his breath.

Pushing yourself up from the bed you are about to head into the bathroom when he stops you in panic.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clearly wanting you to return to bed.

“I’m gonna try it on, don’t you want to see me in it?” you ask coyly and you see his cheeks blushing at your question before he just nods shortly.

It’s a little challenging to put it on, but you manage to succeed, walking out with your clutches, bare feet and your hair in a messy ponytail, but still, Bucky’s breath gets caught in his chest when he sees you. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the way you look, especially with the ugly bandages on your thigh that peek out from under the dress. Stepping to the mirror next to your dresser you take a look at yourself, expression hardening when you see that the scar will probably be seen from under most of your dresses once it’s healed. You try to tug the dress down a little to hide the bandage, but there’s no use, it’s showing no matter what.

Bucky realizes what you’re doing and stepping closer to you he takes your hand that’s fumbling with the fabric and keeps it between his palms.

“All my previous battle wounds are hidden somewhere, but this one will be on full display,” you whisper sadly, eyes dropping to the floor. Bucky cups your cheek in his hand and makes you look up into his eyes with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know, I just…” you sigh, not even sure what you wanted to say.

“You know, in a way this…” He starts, brushing his fingers through the bandage gently. “This is going to be a reminder for me.”

“A reminder?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I always thought I have all the time in the world with you, but I almost lost you. And I don’t want to waste any more time.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you into his embrace as your palms slide up his arms to the base of his neck. You are both so nervous to be this close without sparring, your heart is beating so fast, he can probably hear it, but he feels the same way.

“If you think of me as just a friend, now might be the best time to tell me,” he whispers with a soft chuckle that makes you smile too. You lean closer, your nose touching his, lips almost brushing against each other.

“You are so much more than that,” you breathe out before he closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you the way he wanted to so many times before.

It’s like the rest of the world stops existing, there’s only you and him, his lips on yours, fingers digging into your waist, flesh and metal ones as well, bunching your dress under his touch as you press up against him, your kisses growing hungrier with each passing moment.

When it’s just about to get a little more heated, someone clears their throat and you are forced to snap back to reality, seeing Steve and Nat standing at the door, watching the two of you grinning widely.

“Just wanted to check on you Y/N to see if you need help with anything, but you clearly have everything you need,” Natasha teases you, making your cheeks heating up as you rest your forehead against Bucky’s shoulder, his arms circling around you tight, hands running up and down your back soothingly.

“Glad to see you finally made your move, Bucky,” Steve nods smirking.

“Alright, alright. The show is over, guys,” Bucky waves them off. Natasha winks at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“We will never hear the end of this,” you growl, your head dropping back, but Bucky just smiles and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“If they keep teasing us we’ll just kick their ass,” he grins making you laugh before you press your lips against his again in a short, chaste kiss.

“Deal.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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minshookie · 3 years

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LATE NIGHT HOOKUP

| JIN |

College AU, upperclassman!jin x underclassman!reader, fuckboy!jin, Smut!!, descriptive smut. 18+ minors pls DNI, “cheating”, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), squirting, dubcon, forced orgasm. [[unedited]]

[Jin • Yoongi • Hoseok • Joon • Jimin • Taehyung • Jungkook ]

Peaceful was an understatement, almost alone in the campus library late in the hours of the night. You head rests against the wooden table as you closely read the Intriguing tale.

“Is the bookworm ready to go home?” His large hand rested on your shoulder giving you a startle. “Oh Jin!” You closed your novel placing it in your tote before rising from your seat.

He captured you in a protective hug, warmly pecking your neck causing you to blush at his subtle PDA.

“Thank you so much for coming, I’m sorry to bother you but I really needed to study.” He released looking into your gaze, “you could never bother me, a novel for studying...what are you reading now?”

You reached into your bag, pulling the timeless tale, “Ah the Catcher In The Rye, you understand this Doll?” Jin was a bit older than you, he acted superior treated you inferior but you know he means well. “Yeah, Jinnie, I’ve read it before.”

Tucking the book away in your tote, Jin seizes the opportunity to grasp your free hand, “hungry?” He began to lead you out of the silent reading space, in all honesty you were tired. “Depends on what you’re offering.” You squeezed his hand flirtatiously.

He held open the door leading you to his usual parking spot. “I was cooking when you texted, it should still be warm if you’d like to come over.” He opened the car door granting you access. His car smelt familiar, strongly of his cologne.

Settling in your seat he buckled you in, “oh?...to your place?” The dorms weren’t too welcoming of guest, and since it was your first year, you had to live on campus. So whenever you and Jin found solitude it was either in his car, or at a hotel where he’d pull some strings.

And where there was solitude, there was intimacy and though you were tired...you could go for a little fun.

So it’s not that you didn’t want to go to Jin’s supposedly large apartment, it’s just that you’ve never been Is all. The new territory made you nervous.

“Yeah, if you’d like.” He pulled from the lonely parking lot, “you cold cutie?” His eyes never let the road as he closed your vent, you tossed the idea of the late night dinner date in your head.

“I’m gonna need to know your answer before I get out of here.” He looked over to you briefly. Sighing you answered “Yeah Jin, I’ll go I am pretty hungry.” He smiled reaching to grip your knee. “That’s my girl, you’ll love it.” He gave you a squeeze.

You reclined your seat, the smooth ride almost lulling to sleep. “So...boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He awkwardly asked tapping his fingers on the wheel waiting at the light. “Hm no...you?”

He laughed rubbing his bottom lip. Jin in total has at least four ‘relationships’ including you, he was the campus player but he was wise enough to charm all of his rendezvous into silence and compliance.

“Mm a few, but you’re the best.....I mean that y/n.” He leaned over the counter pecking your warm cheek, “I really do baby.”

The car ride was short, full of sensual touches at red lights, dirty talk and flirtatious comments that made your stomach flutter. His hand momentarily rested between your legs, teasing your under your skirt. Only a preview of what was to come.

Pulling into the parking area, he looked over at your figure, “I have a secret.” You pulled your tote over your shoulder, “yeah Jinnie?” You yawned. “I didn’t cook...but I do want you to see my apartment.” He smiled warmly pulling his key and leaving it in his pocket.

You had no clue where you were, Jin was your only ride so of course you had no choice but to comply. “Well...you didn’t have to lie.” You yawned stepping from the low car, “mm I got nervous, not too appealing if I say ‘I don’t wanna pay for Hilton, let’s fuck at my place.’ ”

He followed behind locking the doors, catching up he pushed his palm along the small of your back. “Ah so that’s why I’m here.” He snickers, nudging your hair with his nose as he walked beside you. “Don’t act oblivious...it’s not your thing.” Oh how romantic he could be.

He walked you proudly through the glittering building, giving a rushed tour that you didn’t care much for. He pulled you into the spacious elevator, the way he cradled you against frame you knew what was next. He gripped your chin pulling you to one of his signature rough lip locks.

Not even making it to his apartment you lips became bruised and slightly swollen, lost in the moment your eyes remained closed as he pulled back. “To my apartment first, alright?” He chuckled in your flustered face. Nodding you let him grip you hand as he pulled you through the hall.

Unlocking his door he pulled you inside, stripping you of your tote hanging it on the wall rack. “Alright here it is, like it? Love it?” He locked the door, awkwardly you stood horny with one thing on your mind. “Dumby, go sit on the couch.” His every order you followed plopping down on the firm couch.

“Those videos you sent me...you show those to other men?” He questioned unbuttoning his tailored shirt, cockily coming close to you. “Be honest.” He let the expensive material fall to the polished floor.

“No...did you?” You were now anxious, your mind was clouded when you sent those drunken videos to Jin. “Never would I share something so beautiful.” He avoided eye contact falling to his knees.

He found himself at your knees, in nothing but socks and dress pants. His large hands caress you chilly knees, granting himself access to what he’d been waiting for.

“Remind me what happened in those videos.” Your breath got lost in your throat, he hid himself under your skirt lapping at you through your fabric panties. “Go on don’t get stage fright.”

You closed your eyes in attempts to recollect the night. “I was out with my f-friends I got really drunk Jinnie!” He’d slipped the thin fabric to the side focusing the tip of his tongue on your hardening nerve. “I-I missed you, I called you and you didn’t pick up.”

He hummed against your moistening core. “Hm you needed me?”

“I needed you, and I wanted to show you- you how much I did.”

You sounded pathetic in those graphic videos, the sound of your pussy, the whimpers and moans you let free. You just didn’t know when to stop you kept pushing orgasm after orgasm, in your drunken state the euphoria felt so good. Too good.

“You showed me alright, you came almost 8 times pet.” He spoke against you licking like a starved dog, you whimpered rubbing his head there wasn’t much to grab as his head was shielded by your skirt.

“I came, a-a-and came-” he inserted his middle finger “until you squirted all over that little phone of yours.” Oh it felt amazing, you’d do almost anything to feel a release like that again.

“Fuck, that video made me so hard, I saw it right when I woke up...made me cum 3 times kitten.” He growled fingering you with skill. “Your voice calling out to me as you spazzed, shaking like a leaf...your eyes rolled, you were crying babe, felt too good?” The combination Jin was gifting to you proved too pleasurable, you were lost in his motions.

He’d stoped talking, opening his jaw giving long licks along your opening. Sucking you with every motion. His thumb applying pressure to your clit rubbing you from side to side.

“Yes it felt amazing.” You gasped revealing him from under the skirt, burring your hands in his locks. Collecting saliva he made a mess of your dribbling cunt. “Cum for me, scream for me again.”

His demands were final, he devoured you slopping over your core his tongue laid out wide.

Mixing his hot saliva with your natural slick, he groaned deeply slurping at your middle the sounds he made only made you closer.

Collecting the mess he’d made with his finger, he fucked you with his curling middle and index. “Fuck Jin-fu-ahh!”

Using his free hand he held the fabric of your panties to the side. His head still bobbed as he ravished your cunt like it was his last meal before death. You fingers pulled his dark hair painfully, a moaning mess your stop muscles tightened and released telling you of your creeping orgasm.

Jin always put passion into gaining your orgasm, he grunted with his lustful actions. Focusing his slick plump lips on your clit sucking and lapping at the sensitive area.

The tightening in your stomach caused you Yelp out in pleasure, gushing into his awaiting mouth. “Fuck, you’re gonna give me a headache all that mmm tugging.” He complained cleaning you with his tongue.

He held your shivering wrist, coaxing you to let go of him. “You’ve made a mess of my couch.” He sat back giving you a view of his glistening chin, red cheeks, arousal covered nose.

No shame, he pulled your ruined panties down your legs, removing your shoes undoing your skirt and completely stripping your bottom half. Focusing on your breathing you closed your eyes getting comfortable, your pussy quivering involuntarily.

“But I don’t mind...I’d rather you made more of a mess like your little videos perhaps?”

You sigh feeling his fingers glide over your core.

“Give me your hand Bunny.”

Obliging, your head clouded even more tired than before. He gripped your wrist making you rub yourself, “do it again, make a big mess for me.” He let you go, spreading your legs you toyed with you sore clit delving lower collecting the mess he’d left. To assist the process.

The lazy ovals gave faint pleasure you let your head fall back.

Jin was impatient and you knew it, so you played the lazy game...he caught on. Unbuckling his pants he let them droop

He pulled free his rock hard member, throwing your hand from your area. “You better fucking- fuck.” He plunged himself deeply, his girth familiar yet so foreign. You freed a whimper in response your lower stomach already clinching as he fucked into you.

He pulled you, letting your legs rest on his forearms, your back on the seat of the couch. “Moan for me, tell me how I’m treating your tight little cunt.” He grunts through his teeth, “good so good please!”

He chuckled darkly, “who are you gonna to cum for? Who made you so horny bitch?”

He watched your face contort, pushing his large palm over your lower tummy. “Oh-oh! You Jinnie please not too hard I’ll- mm!” “You’ll what?” He fucked you with no mercy.

“Keep your legs up and open...slut.” “Uh-huh ok.” The results of the last orgasm already found you vulnerable. You had to go, bad.

He railed you, rubbing your clit and applying pressure to your lower abdomen.

You whined and begged, feeling your release closer than you’d like. “Jin, fuck Jinnie wait-” “I said up and fucking open!” He held his head down in search for his high. You could see his muscles tense.

Your eyes rolled shut, no way could you stop the release, he thrusted deeply hitting every spot you needed, the flicking of his thumb along your clit drew it near you back arched from the cushions. “Do it! Let go!”

You screamed, gushing against his lower half, in quick streams of pleasure, whimpering as the flow finished and you clenched around him. Crying out as he continues to fuck into you, only to make you release more liquid arousal mixed with others.

He pulled from you, using what you’d produced to finish on your cardigan. Your eyes half lidded as you struggled to gain stable breathing. “ugh, my cardigan-” “I’ll buy you six cardigans.” He mumbled wiping his member clean on the plush fabric.

His cold demeanor ruined the mood. Why must he act this way after every loving session.

You stretched, giving a comically loud yawn, “my underwear please.” You reached out grabbing for them. “You soaked them.” He disappeared down the hall, “the skirt too!” He informed as you sat up your head pounding slightly.

“Lucky for you...” he came back with a pair of sweats and a pair of panties that definitely weren’t yours.

“I’ll pass, the sweats please.” He tossed them, you pulled them on your knees wobble weakly you swim in the fabric of the sweatpants, they were his. “Your loss, they’re clean I promise!”

You struggle to bend and collect your damp clothes, “c-can I spend the night?”

He sighed dressing himself in a change of clothes. “I’m afraid not...I have a Uhm meeting tomorrow morning.”

It didn’t upset you in a jealous way, it upset you in a betrayal way, it upset you that he’d use you and kick you out.

“With who?” “Do you want me to take you home or are you calling a ride...I’ll pay.”

The headache depended as you leaned against the wall.

“Whatever, just-let’s go.”

What kind of hold did Kim Seokjin have over you, to treat you so shitty and still have you wrapped around his finger and cock at that.

“Don’t pout.” He thumbed your lower lip.

Pulling your chin he pecked your lips, “I’ll treat you to lunch tomorrow hm?”

“And after we can come back here....that make you feel better my best girl?”

He chuckled pulling you out of his apartment by the hand.

“No matter what you think, you’re perfect, I just love the way you make me feel I could love you.”

He loves you, that’s the hold he has on you, and he’ll do anything to make you believe It.

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hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

Professor Tom Holland and student reader. Maybe where the reader is a cheerleader and one day she’s walking home from practise and he sees her an offers her a ride home and he compliments her and ends in fluff! Please ❤️

A/n: heeey, im back again, this was pure fluff and i like the idea, gonna make an entire tag for professor holland cause it's probably my fav trope lol, hope you like it!!

Warnings: none, just fluff stuff :)

You pull the bag's strap over your shoulder once again, wincing at the sharp pain on your skin under the thin shirt you wore to walk back to your dorm.

Usually, you never walked home by yourself, there was always a friend who would nicely drive you after cheerleading practice, but today - unconventionally, a day with such a terrible weather - your friend got sick and missed the training.

Looking up to the sky, you notice the clouds turning even more grey, so you quickened your steps, worried that the eventual rain got you on your way. Sighing, you let your shoulders drop at the realization that your dorm was still far enough for you to reach before it started soaking you wet with raindrops.

And that's when the sound of a car passing by the empty street, besides the sidewalk you were passing through, caught your attention. The vehicle would slow down and get you worried at first, as it was only a few steps away from you. You considered walking further in the sidewalk, so you could create some distance from the car, but as soon as the dark window rolled down, revealing a not so unfamiliar face, you felt relief filling your tired nerves.

"Miss y/l/n", Professor Holland smiled warmly at you, frowning a little at the sight of your figure, bent to the side to be able to accommodate the weight of your practice bag. "You alright?"

Stopping on your tracks, you blink a few times at the man in front of you. Mr. Holland was known as the most beautiful man in his department - probably, the most beautiful man in the whole University. He was also a lovely teacher, always so committed with his classes and students.

A little more committed with you, if you were being honest.

In a very respectful way, Mr. Holland clearly had his favorite student in class, always praising you for your works, presentations and correct answers. 'You're a very talented woman, Miss y/l/n', he would say after offering you to tutor his class for a couple of students, which you quickly accepted to get more credits. At least, that was the reason you told yourself, but deep down you knew you just appreciated any chances you got to spend more time with your favorite professor.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Holland", you feel your cheeks blushing, eyes averting from his gaze and sweet smile to you. He was very intimidating, not in a bad way, but you couldn't help yourself when he stared at you like that. "Yeah, I was just... uh, walking back to my dorm".

You feel embarrassed for explaining this, also for not being better dressed in front of him. You were pretty sure your hair looked messy after practice and that your skin was glistening from a light sweat after walking so much with a heavy bag on your shoulder.

"Do you want a ride?", he asked, not letting the smile fade from his lips. "I think it's gonna be raining in a few".

His confidence and the comfort with his words impressed you. You wouldn't ever think your professor would worry enough about one of his students walking in the rain to offer a ride home. But there was Mr. Holland, with his beautiful and soft brown curls, the pretty crinkle on his eyes whenever he smiled, the way his strong british accent would make your legs tremble-

"Miss y/l/n?"

You blink a few times to get yourself back together, face hot with embarrassment for start daydreaming about his appearance right in front of him.

You ponder about it for a few seconds. It wouldn't sound very nice that your professor drove you home. You were sure that there might be a specific rule about students and professors getting so intimate about each other, but in that very moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care about it.

Mr. Holland, a walking God, was offering to drop you to your dorm, and you wouldn't miss the chance.

"You sure I won't bother you, Mr. Holland?", you ask, bitting your lips and praying he won't say otherwise. He simply smiles sheepishly and shakes his head.

"How could you? C'mon, let me help you".

You smile, lowering your head as you cross the car to get to the other side, opening the door as you enter Mr. Holland's car.

It was warm inside, much better than the cold air, hitting your face and making you struggle to hold your things and still curl into your own body to get yourself warmer.

The drive is filled with small talk, but not after a long silence between the two of you. It wasn't like you hadn't anything in common to say, but you felt really intimidated beside him. No topic seemed appropriated enough to discuss with such a brilliant mind, but Mr. Holland, somehow, proved to be not only one of the most intelligent professors you've ever had, but also a kind and nice guy. He waved off all the stress that was consuming you, and soon enough you found yourself laughing at his jokes and giggling at some wise comments.

"So, I think we're here", he said with a small grin as he parked in front of your building. The rain was pouring outside and you were getting yourself prepared to face that before stepping out of the warm car. "You- uh, do you want to just wait here? You're probably gonna get soaked if you go right now. I mean, you surely don't want to be stuck with your professor here, but..."

He lost his words, too embarrassed for his own words to keep going, and waited until you answered. You give him a sweet smile.

"I'm not stuck here, Mr. Holland. If anything, I'm grateful. You literally saved my ass- I mean, you saved me from, uh, walking in this rain" you bite your lip, trying to contain the giggle from the realization of your manners in front of him.

Mr. Holland's lips lifted a little, the tip of his tongue discretely wetting it.

"Yeah, I'm glad that we bumped into each other too", he said, eyes never leaving yours. And suddenly, it wasn't like your professor was there anymore. You could see a young man, a handsome one, talking to you. "It was lovely talking to you, Miss y/l/n"

You smile at his kindness.

"Same, Mr. Holland", you put your hand on the car's handle before stepping out. "I should go now, got an exam tomorrow morning. Heard the professor is really severe with his tests".

Mr. Holland laughed, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure you can handle any of my exams, darling. You're my best student".

You feel yourself blushing again, and look down before heading out of the car, the rain getting your hair wet.

"See you tomorrow" you say, watching as his eyes twinkle with joy. But before you can get away from his car, you shout:

"By the way, you can call me Y/N!"

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #professor!tom #prof!tom #prof!tom x reader

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Text

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot.

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation.

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot.

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real.

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side.

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling.

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.”

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it.

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy.

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door.

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him.

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night.

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up.

It just felt like a slap in the face.

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch.

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head.

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss.

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something.

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage.

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes.

Because fuck Billy.

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker.

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck.

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face.

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you.

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back.

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington.

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green.

Come and get sheetfaced.

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up.

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit.

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life.

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted.

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her.

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far.

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off.

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again.

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass.

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again.

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends.

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit.

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children.

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends.

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest.

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali.

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night.

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town.

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time.

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him.

Fucking sunshine.

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug.

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket.

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen.

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair.

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd.

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl.

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house.

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly.

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye.

Not like Steve has.

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name.

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one.

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early.

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer.

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion.

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion.

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick.

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside.

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed.

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag.

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky.

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?”

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?”

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips.

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say.

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay.

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit.

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window.

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering.

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire.

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette.

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid.

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands.

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light.

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully.

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile.

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

#clearly i'm very busy at work #yikes writes #egg the cat #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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drprettyboyspence · 4 years

Text

Beach Day

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader

Summary: Spencer Reid doesn’t understand the appeal of going to the beach so when Garcia plans a BAU outing, he honestly debates whether or not he should go. Turns out, when Y/n is at the beach, Spencer totally understands the appeal after all.

words: 2.8k

warnings: seriously none to my knowledge! a lot of fluff :)

a/n: Since its getting so warm out where I live and I’ve recently been watching season 8 (where Spencer says he doesn’t like the beach), I imagined what it would be like if Spencer went to the beach with his coworker who he has a crush on, I hope you enjoy! :)

“Come on pretty boy! We’re gonna be late and you know what we’re in for if we keep my babygirl waiting.” Derek Morgan playfully yells at Spencer Reid. It’s ten past 12 p.m. on a hot and sunny August day in Virginia, and the two boys are late for a carpool with the one and only Penelope Garcia.

“Morgan, why can’t you just go without me, no one will miss me anyway and I hate the beach.” Spencer replies in a frustrated manner. Garcia had been planning this for weeks, after the team had come back from an especially long case she thought what everyone needed was some good old day-at-the-beach fun. Through Spencer’s eyes however, you can’t exactly call an overcrowded area filled with unhygienic birds, sweaty, sunburned people, and sand that covers every inch of your belongings fun.

“Reid, what’s wrong with the beach? Just bring a book if you really want to, but we really have to get going man.” Derek asks, automatically regretting it when Spencer replies,

“Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly the drug-resistant bacteria spread by sea gull feces.” Spencer replies with a straight face, completely unaware that most people aren’t worried about the spread of sea gull poop or anything like that.

“Alright, kid, I’ll give ya that I guess. Fine, I’ll go without you, but I know one FBI agent in particular who’s gonna be awfully disappointed when you don’t show.” Derek says slyly, sure his evil plan will work. Spencer looks up from his bookshelf where he’s organizing his collection of 15th century literature from his mom, a slight blush forming on his cheeks.

“Y/n?, Morgan she won’t care if I don’t come to the beach today. Number one, why would she care about me? Number two, who wants to see me at the beach, my body isn’t exactly my most desirable trait.” Derek’s teasing face softens significantly, realizing the more real root of Spencer’s aversion to the beach.

“Alright kid, you have no reason to be insecure, I’ve heard chirps from a little birdie named Penelope Garcia that our very own Y/n has quite a big crush on you. It doesn’t matter if you have a six pack or not Reid, you have the sweetest heart of anyone I know and the biggest brain as well obviously, I don’t call you pretty boy as a joke, why wouldn’t Y/n like you? Come on, it’ll be fun, I promise.” Spencer feels awkward, not knowing how to react to Derek “lady’s man” Morgan’s motivational speech, he doesn't want to get his hopes up. To be honest, Spencer has liked Y/n since she joined the bureau almost a year ago now, she’s smart, honest, brave, and the most beautiful girl in the world in Spencer’s opinion.

“But Morgan, I don’t own shorts, I don’t have anything I can wear to the beach.”

“Well lucky for you kid I sorta assumed that, so I brought you a bathing suit, now can we PLEASE get out of here, I’m really not trying to be Penelope’s personal slave for the next 6 months.” Spencer reluctantly takes the bathing suit into the next room and puts it on, hating the way his skinny limbs look in shorts and an FBI tee-shirt, feeling as if he looks like a pre-pubescent boy. Even so, his desire to spend the day with Y/n persuades him to anxiously pack his bag with a few books he’ll surely need before following Derek out the door. They make it down the stairs and out the door of Reid’s apartment building before they’re greeted by the dulcet tones of Garcia yelling at them through the open window of her car.

“Derek Morgan! You are very lucky you are so handsome and delicious, I’ve been waiting here almost twenty minutes! I almost had to hack the parking ticket database to make sure I wouldn’t be charged, now get in! This is going to be the best day ever!”

“Sorry babygirl” Derek says, getting into the car and pulling Garcia into a greeting hug, “the kid here was feeling anxious, but I told him his little girlfriend would be devastated if he chose not to show up, so lover boy pulled through.” Spencer scoffs and Garcia squeals in joy, loving the idea of the two babies of the team falling in love.

The three of them get out of the car at the beach and Spencer automatically puts his sunglasses on, the sun beating down on him harshly, high in the sky and nearly at its peak of strength for the day.

“Well well well, it’s about time you three! We were expecting you to be no-shows!” Rossi teases from the spot on the beach the team has chosen. Spencer awkwardly tries to walk across the lumps of sand, the grains sinking through the holes in the sides of his signature converse sneakers, already regretting his decision to come here, like he says, he really hates the beach.

“Spence, you made it! I have to say I’m surprised, how are those sneakers working out for you?” JJ says in a teasing manner as well, knowing that when it comes to the beach, Spencer is one of the least prepared people she knows.

“Hi Spence, I’m glad you’re here.” Spencer hears from behind him, the shy voice of Y/n automatically brightening his mood.

“Y/n, I’m glad to be here.” He replies, the rest of the team looking at each other in bewilderment, not believing the sentence having just come out of Spencer’s mouth. Emily and Rossi had brought extra chairs so Spencer sits down and pulls out a book on understanding the theorems of quantum physics, having not read it since he was a teenager. He looks up from reading when he hears the familiar laughing and sounds of his two favorite kids, Jack running up from the ocean with Henry following closely behind, always looking up to his older friend.

“Hi Jack! Hi Henry! How’s it going guys!” Y/n says, causing Spencer to blush as he briefly imagines Y/n with kids of her own, their own, woah Spencer calm down, don’t go there, quantum physics, focus.

“Y/n! Will you come swim with us, please! please! please!” Jack says, the boys love Y/n because during the times the team hangs out, she can’t say no to them.

“Spencer, swim? please?” Henry says, walking over to Spencer and grabbing his hand, cold from being in the ocean. Spencer’s heart warms at the sight of his godson and he finds himself saying yes, not realizing the implications, he now has to take his shirt off and swim with Y/n, what has he done?

“Really, Spence? You’ll come swim with us! Yay!” Y/n responds, seeming so genuinely excited that Spencer finds himself getting less nervous. He hesitantly peels his shirt off, feeling surprisingly relieved to be rid of the sweaty fabric. He glances at Derek who is smiling at him, raising his eyebrows as if to say You got this player. Jack and Henry are getting impatient so Y/n takes her dress off leaving her in a bikini. Spencer automatically feels very awkward, averting his eyes to avoid blatantly staring at her, overwhelmed with how gorgeous she is, she’s truly the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Uh, s-should we g-go?” He asks, the rest of the team giggling at his obvious nerves. He remembers once Emily told him his IQ turns to 60 when he sees a pretty girl, maybe she was right because he feels, in this moment, he wouldn’t be able to read a single word of text. Y/n nods and they walk off with the two boys towards the ocean, Spencer hearing the remnants of the rest of the team surely gossiping about the clear tension between them. They reach the ocean and Henry and Jack run into the waves, splashing and tackling each other, getting water on both adults. Spencer shivers despite the hot sun still beating down on his now bare shoulders and back, trying not to think about his chances of developing skin cancer which are surely growing exponentially each moment he stays out in this sun.

“You cold Spence?” Y/n giggles, grabbing his hand and pulling him further into the water, his legs following even though the idea of being submerged in the cold water is not appealing whatsoever. Or maybe cold water would be better if Y/n doesn’t let go of your hand soon, the devilish side of Spencer’s subconscious whispers.

“Yes a little, water temperatures around the Washington D.C. area in August average in the low 80s, but I suppose the contrast between the 95 degree day to the cold water causes me to feel cold, funny how that works isn’t it?” Spencer replies, always trying to be more conversational, especially around Y/n, therefore less statistics.

“Yes Spence, now come on, it’ll be less cold if you just jump in.” Y/n says warmly, always finding Spencer’s statistics charming and adorable.

“No Y/n I don’t think that’s a- ah!” Spencer yelps as Y/n whispers something to Henry and Jack, causing them to splash him simultaneously, very quickly drenching him completely. Spencer can’t find it in himself to be mad, hearing Y/n hysterically laughing and high-fiving the boys in joy.

“Alright Y/n, you asked for it.” Spencer says, starting to laugh too despite himself. He somehow finds the courage to pick Y/n up bridal style and walk deeper into the ocean, dropping her in. She’s under the water for just a moment before Spencer begins to worry, statistics of drowning automatically filling his brain. He feels a tug on his leg and falls into the water himself. Y/n and Spencer now both in the water up to their necks, they look at each other and laugh awkwardly. All of a sudden realizing how close they’ve become, they both look away and focus their attention on the two boys still playing in the water, making sure they don’t get too far away.

“Can we play chicken? Please!” Jack says and Spencer looks at him with a confused look on his face.

“Chicken?”

“Come on Spence, this will be so fun!” Y/n says excitedly and once again grabs Spencer’s hand, pulling him toward the boys. Y/n kneels down in the water and motions for Spencer to do so as well, he follows, still confused as to what is about to happen. Henry climbs on Y/n’s back and Jack on Spencer.

“Okay, now what?” Spencer says, laughing at what the team must be seeing up on the beach.

“Now, we fight!” Jack says from Spencer’s shoulders.

Y/n and Spencer walk further into the ocean to more safely allow Henry and Jack to play. They hit each other and Spencer and Y/n find themselves suddenly chest to chest, Spencer trying everything to distract himself from his attraction to the woman in front of him. Finally Henry and Jack seem to get tired, asking if they can go back to their parents.

“U-uh, so that was f-fun!” Spencer says, trying to break the awkward tension that had followed him and Y/n since they had gotten so close in the water. Chicken, who knew?

“Yes it was Spence, thank you for coming in the water, I know you don’t like the beach that much.” Y/n says softly, smiling up at the taller man.

They make their way back up to the team, ignoring the knowing looks on their faces. Spencer sits down in his chair once again, suddenly noticing his stomach rumbling.

“Spencer, do you want to share this peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Y/n offers. Spencer laughs, how did she know he was hungry at the exact moment he realized it too? He nods and she scoots closer to him to hand him the half. They joke with the rest of the team as well as the boys, trying to separate themselves from the horror they usually find themselves facing together. Spencer knows there is no science to the old phrase time flies when you’re having fun, but he thinks today might be an exception, soon it's getting late, JJ and Hotch opting to take their tired boys home, exhausted from the day in the sun.

“Spencer, before we leave, can you come with me to get an ice cream?” Y/n asks shyly, Spencer quickly agreeing before the anxiety of being alone with her can hit him once again. They sit together facing the setting sun while eating ice cream, Spencer knows he doesn't react the best to dairy but he can’t help it, he loves dairy, and honestly, he thinks he might love Y/n as well which is a terrifying thought. They sit and watch the sunset in relative silence, but it isn’t an awkward silence, it’s comfortable, Spencer wishes this moment would last forever. Too soon the sun dips below the horizon and their ice cream is long gone.

“Okay love birds time to go, it’s getting really dark and we should be getting home.” They hear from behind them, both of them flushing in the night air at the nickname and teasing done by Derek.

“Thanks for today Y/n, it was fun, see you at work on Monday.” Spencer says before following Derek and Penelope to the car, Y/n waving back before following Rossi, having car pooled with him and Emily. The drive home is silent on Spencer’s part, mostly spent looking out the window and ignoring the constant prying from his two nosy friends in the front, eager to know what happened between him and Y/n during the day at the beach. Garcia then drops Derek off at Spencer’s apartment as Derek lives closer to Spencer.

“Goodnight kid, I hope you had fun today.” Derek says before turning in the direction of his own home.

“Hey Morgan?” Spencer says quietly, so quietly Derek almost misses it, but turns around nonetheless.

“Ya kid?” He replies.

“Thank you for convincing me to go, it was really fun.”

“No problem pretty boy, anytime” Derek replies smirking before watching Spencer walk into his apartment building.

That night Spencer is lying in bed in severe pain, his fair skin blistering from the day in the hot sun. He knows he shouldn’t have been so stupid and reckless, allowing himself to become this burned. He was honestly having too much fun to stop and think about it. His phone buzzes and he grimaces, already expecting the worst, a new case, but instead, he sees a text from Y/n.

“Hey, Spence, are you still awake?” Spencer begins to text back but before he can he sees an incoming call.

“Uh, hi Y/n! Is everything okay? It’s pretty late do you need-”

“Spencer, I’m fine! Don’t worry, I’m sorry I’m calling you so late. How are you?” Spencer relaxes into the pillows on his bed when he hears Y/n say she’s okay.

“Aside from the sure to cause skin-cancer, painful sunburn covering my back in blisters, I’m doing great! How about you? Is there something you need or do you just want to talk?”

“Ouch that must hurt, you should have put sunblock on silly! I actually wanted to ask you something and I figured now is as good a time as ever. So um, Spence, I had a really good time today, and uh- I totally understand if you don’t want to, but would you want to go to dinner with me sometime soon?” Y/n’s heart is racing out of her chest as she anxiously waits for Spencer to answer.

“Like a date?”

“Yes- I mean not necessarily it doesn't have to be, we don’t actually have to go out at all if you don't-”

“Y/n, I would love to go out on a date with you.”

“Really? T-that’s great! Okay I should probably let you get to sleep now, I’m sorry again for calling so late. Goodnight Spencer.”

“Goodnight Y/n, see you Monday, can’t wait.” Spencer says before Y/n hangs up the phone, he finds himself missing her voice already. He looks at the clock, seeing its already nearly one am, now understanding Y/n’s multiple apologies for the late call. Spencer turns off the light next to his bed, noticing his sunburn doesn’t feel so bad now, ah, the psychology of love. Maybe, Spencer thinks before he closes his eyes, with Y/n by his side, a day at the beach doesn’t sound so bad.

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds season 8 #reader insert #y/n #spencer reid x y/n #fluff #imagine

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viking-raider · 4 years

Text

The Immortal Sky - Epilogue

Summary: You and Henry start a life together, after so much that’s happened.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 3,048

Rating: G - Dystopian!AU, Futuristic!AU, Language, Mild Angst, Suggestive Language, Cotton Candy Goodness, Fluff and a Super Happy Ending!

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write a futuristic fic!

Author’s Note: Thank you all for the support and love on this story, it was a blast to write. Thanks to the amazing @wondersofdreaming as always <3

It had been three months since the events had happened in Bristol, and both you and Henry had healed well and started building a life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Henry's family fully, completely and lovingly embraced you into their family, treating you as one of their very own; uncaring that you were born in the lower Sectors of London. They included you in everything from social parties and events to family gatherings. You were surprised, when you went to his family home for the first time, because unlike you and your family, Henry and his family were raise in an actual house in Sector Two's posh neighborhood, where nearly every member of the Royal and Cleric Council lived, with their families; his brothers and their families also lived in houses of their own, in the neighborhood.

The Cavill's had lived in this neighborhood for several generations, his father's side of the family had always been members of the Cleric Council and his mother's family had always been members of the Royal Council; but Henry was the first Cavill and Dalgliesh to not be either a Beta, Alpha or High Royal or Cleric, in nearly nine generations.

“Why don't you live here too, Henry?” You had asked, the first time Henry had taken you to his parent's house, for dinner, two weeks after getting out of the hospital. “Can you not, since you're a High Marshal?”

“Oh no, I can live here, if I'd like too, being the son of a Cleric and Royal.” Henry replied, as he pulled into his parents’ driveway. “But, I choose to live in the flat, in Central Sector Two. I didn't need a big house, since it was just Kal and I. Even with it being the three of us, there's still no need for one.” He explained, then got out of the car to move around and open your door.

Henry's family had even invited your parents and little brother to their family functions.

They had been slack jawed, while they sat in the back seat of Henry's car, you and Henry having gone to pick them up and take them to the Christmas party you all had been invited too. They watched as each Sector got brighter and brighter, until they finally got to see the sun, for the first time, as it started to sink below the horizon. Henry glanced at them through the rear-view mirror and smiled, remembering the same look of surprise and awe on your face as you saw the same view for the first time, over a year before. He looked at you and smiled even brighter as you looked at him, having looked back at them and saw their reactions to it as well.

Their awestruck continued as you entered the Cavill family's posh neighborhood, seeing all the fancy and large three-story houses, the lush green grass of the front lawns and the expensive cars in their driveways. Parking, you all got out of the car and headed inside, greeted by Henry's parents in the foyer.

“Merry Christmas.” Marianne smiled, hugging you and Henry. “Welcome and Merry Christmas.” She said to your parents and little brother, as you and Henry greeted his father.

“Thank you and Merry Christmas, My Lady.” Your mother replied and smiled back, nervously bowing her head to Marianne.

“Please, call me Marianne.” She replied, smiling sweetly. “This is my husband, Colin.” She said, introducing him.

“Pleasure.” Colin greeted them, smiling warmly.

“I'm Tasha. This is my husband, Tristan.” Your mother answered, motioning to your father. “And this is our youngest son, Christophe.” She said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Your house is ginormous!” Christophe replied, his mouth hanging open.

Marianne and Colin chuckled, warmed. “Please, come in and make yourselves at home.” She said, motioning into the living room, where most of the group was congregating. “The other kids are playing in the backyard, if you want to join them, Christophe.” She offered your brother, then showed him the way out to the backyard.

“You want something to drink?” Henry asked you as you moved into the living room with everyone else.

“Yes, that would be fantastic.” You nodded, smiling up at him.

“All right.” Henry smiled back, kissing you softly, before going into the kitchen.

“Is it time yet?” Simon asked, coming into the kitchen with his little brother, to also grab himself and his wife something to drink.

“Soon.” Henry replied, pouring you a glass of chilled white wine. “I need the perfect moment.” He said, pouring himself a glass, then handed the bottle to Simon.

“Just don't chicken out.” Simon teased him, grinning.

“Chicken out of what?” Marianne asked, coming into the kitchen.

“The right moment.” Henry replied, feeling his face burn, and took a deep gulp of the chilled wine, trying to cool his face off and fortify his nerves.

“You'll find it, Henry.” She told him, rubbing his broad back, trying to be encouraging and supportive of her son. “Don't rush it.”

“I won't.” Henry sighed, picking up the two wine glasses. “I want it to be perfect.”

Henry took the glasses into the living room, finding you sitting on the couch and took a seat beside you, holding out one of the glasses. You smiled at him, taking the glass and kissed him on the cheek, before taking a sip of it. Henry wrapped an arm around you, sipped his wine and got caught up in the flow of the conversation that was going on with everybody.

“They're all so nice.” Your mother said as the two of you went into the kitchen for more wine.

“They really are.” You replied, smiling as you heard Henry's laugh carry into the kitchen. “They're incredibly loving and supportive, especially towards Henry and I.” You told her, then sighed.

Henry's mother had been right, people did find out about you being a Slummer, and it had happened sooner than both of you had thought it would.

A month after returning to London from Bristol, you and Henry were at a Cleric Fundraiser, which was held every year to raise money to donate to one of the lower Sectors, so they could use it as they saw fit; usually to help buy supplies for the Sector's Hospital. When a woman approached you, while Henry went to find the Fundraiser Manager, so he could donate money to the event.

“So, your High Marshal Cavill's new girl.” She said, lifting a sculpted brow at you.

“I am.” You replied, frowning at her, in her glittering and almost skin tight dress. “Who are you?”

“I'm Natasha, Beta Cleric Shaw's wife.” She told you, still giving you a mean and judgmental expression. “Henry and I dated, a while back.” She added, tossing her straight black hair over her shoulder with a swish of her head. “We were serious, for a moment, before I left him.” She said, an evil smugness glinting in her gray eyes.

“I never thought Henry would stoop so low, as to date a Slummer.” She said, her upper lip curling with distaste.

“H-how do you know that?” You asked, gulping and feeling your hands tremble.

“My husband was on the Council panel, when you testified against Oron Anderson.” Natasha replied, resting a hand on her hip. “He told me all about you being from Sector Twenty-Eight and how long you spent in that trafficker's warehouse in Thirty-One; before Henry bought you.”

“How's it feel to be his bought and paid for play thing?” She asked, looking you over.

“I'm not.” You replied, your voice barely audible.

“You can think that and Henry can tell you that, but we-” She motioned around the room, the gold and diamond bangles rattling on her thin wrist. “All know the truth.” She told you, tipping her nose up at you, then walked away.

Your breath hitched in your throat as hot tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, before turning your back to her and rushed out of the room. Henry had been halfway back, just missing Natasha walking away from you, when he saw the look of anguish on your face and rush out of the room. Scanning the room, trying to see what had caused it, Henry rushed after you. You took your heels off as you got out the front doors of the venue and ran into the manicured garden to the side of it. Henry finally caught up with you, finding you gulping down deep mouthfuls of cold night air by a massive fountain.

“Hey.” He whispered, resting his hand on your goosebump and chilled skin. “What's wrong?” He asked, shrugging out of his blazer and draping it over your shaking shoulders, before hugging you against his chest, your tears spilling over onto his dark gray dress shirt.

“What happened? Tell me.”

“They know.” You sobbed, clinging onto him and getting makeup all over his shirt.

“Who knows what, babe?” He asked, cupping your head in his hands and pulled your face away from his chest.

“They know what I am.” You cried, your bottom lip puffy and trembling.

Henry blinked at you for a moment, before his brain connected to what you meant and his eyes widened.

“Yeah.” You gasped and sighed. “They know I'm just a fucking sl-”

“Don't.” He snapped, shaking his head at you.

“I am, Henry.” You hissed back at him, becoming angry. “I'm a Slummer and they know it.” You huffed, trying to pull away from him.

Henry bit his lip, biting back his own frustrated anger. “Who told you this?” He demanded, keeping a hold on you.

“Your ex.”

Henry's shoulders slumped and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Natasha.” He growled between clenched teeth.

“Yes, her.” You nodded, folding your arms inside his blazer. “Told me how the two of you dated, before she left you, and that everyone knew that I was a Slummer, because her husband told her about me testifying at Twist's trial.”

“How the hell does she know you testified at Twist's trial.” Henry frowned, taken aback.

“Her husband is, apparently, Beta Cleric Shaw.”

“So, she did end up with a Cleric after all.” Henry sighed, shaking his head.

“What?” You snapped at him.

“The reason Natasha broke up with me, was because I wouldn't leave the Marshal Council to become either a Cleric or a Royal. She wanted that posh and expensive life that they have. But, I wouldn't do it, I love being a High Marshal. So, she left me, and apparently got what she wanted in the end.” He sighed, rubbing his face.

“But, I don't care about that. What I care about is her trying to hurt you.”

“She did a damn good job.” You whispered, staring down at your bare toes. “Called me, your bought and paid for plaything.”

“Look at me.” He whispered, touching his fingertips underneath your chin and lifted your head, until your wet eyes met his. “You're not my 'bought and paid for' plaything. We both know that, sweetheart. She's just a salty and unhappy woman, that only gets her happiness out of watching others suffer, and other people might know about you being from the lower Sectors, but she's only one crazy enough to say anything about it to your, my, or any of my family's face or within earshot of us either.” He told you, gently swiping his thumbs beneath your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“As for her husband speaking about the trial, when he's not allowed to speak to anyone about it outside of the Councils, and she's nowhere near a position on them, he's going to be in a load of trouble, when I bring it up to my mum.”

“I don't want him to get into trouble because his wife is apparently a bitch.” You told him, grasping his wrists.

“I know you don't, love.” Henry smiled at you. “But, if he's talking to his wife about them, then he's more than likely talking to others he's not supposed to, and that's a breach and violation of his position. The Councils have to be told about it.” He explained to you.

“What, will you not tell me things, if I were your wife?” You asked him, trying to tease him.

“I'm a High Marshal, my job is less top secret and involved than a Cleric or Royal.” Henry replied, chuckling. “I don't know how interested you'd be in me talking about homicide cases, they tend to be a bit graphic.”

“I wouldn't mind. Especially, if you needed to get something off your chest, if one is really bothering you.” You confessed, biting your lip as you looked up at him, recalling all the nightmares you had soothed him through.

“I'll keep that in mind.” Henry smiled, kissing you. “You want to go back in?” He asked you, looking back at the building. “Or we could ditch it, go back home and have a movie night.”

You pressed your lips together, thinking about it. Part of you wanted to go back in and face Natasha's no doubt judgmental glares the rest of the night, showing her that you weren't going to be intimidated by her and what she thought, but if you were honest, now that you were calm, you didn't actually care what she thought.

“I like the idea of movie night.” You said, looking back up at Henry.

“So do I.” Henry agreed. “I'm dying for a pair of sweats.”

“You are?” You laughed, looking at yourself in the tight gown and your bare, but screaming, feet.

“I wouldn't mind helping you out of that.” Henry chuckled, grinning and winking at you.

You grinned up at him and had a feeling that the impromptu movie night wouldn't last long, if the expression on Henry's face was anything to go off of.

“What is it, honey?” Your mother asked, seeing that far off look in your eyes.

“Nothing.” You laughed, shaking it off.

The back door came flying open and several of the kids came running in from outside, yelling and screaming as they went to their respective parents.

“Christophe, what's the matter?” Your mother asked him, frowning.

“Come look! Come look!” He said, grabbing his mother's hand and dragging her out the back door.

You frowned after them and looked to Henry as he and everyone from the living room filed through the kitchen and out the back door. “What's going on, Babe?” You asked him, as he took your hand and guided you outside with them.

“It's snowing, Nugget.” He grinned at you, excited for you to see it.

You let Henry lead you outside, gasping as you stepped out onto the back deck and into the heavy flurry of thick white flakes. Henry smiled, moving to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back against him, kissing the back of your hair and resting his chin on top of your head, gently swaying as you both watched the snow fly. You were memorized by it, even with how cold it was, tilting your head back and smiling up at Henry, who smiled back at you, kissing your forehead.

“I'll be right back, I have to grab something.” He said, letting go of you and going back inside.

“This is amazing.” Christophe said, and stuck his tongue out like Henry's nieces and nephews, catching the flakes on it.

You smirked at him, tilting your own head back a bit and did the same, giggling as the snowflakes melted on your tongue and oblivious of Henry coming up behind you.

“Babe?” He called out, getting your attention.

You turned around to face him, but had to drop your eyes down slightly, as he knelt before you in the gathering snow on the wood deck. “Henry?” You answered, blinked down at his, confused.

“Oh god.” You heard someone gasp.

“I know,” Henry started, looking incredibly worried and nervous. “we've been through a whole lot since we met, a year and a half a go, but for all that, I wouldn't have wanted to endure any of that, without you.” He explained, fidgeting and fumbling for something in his back pocket. “I love you. I want to be with you and spend the rest of my life with you, only you.”

“So, I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.” You grinned, feeling how warm your cheeks were getting and the flurry of butterflies flying around your stomach, like the snowflakes in the air around you.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, in a rush, his nerves getting the better of him, as he opened the box and revealed a beautiful diamond ring.

A huge smile pulled across your face and giggled nervously, you were speechless for a minute, completely stunned and surprised by Henry proposing to you, then finally managed to answer.

“Yes.” You nodded, giddy. “Yes!” You laughed.

“Oh thank god.” Henry laughed back, relieved, then slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up and wrapping his arms around you, kissing you deeply.

Everyone clapped and cheered, happy for the both of you.

Five months later, you and Henry walked down the aisle and married, in a private ceremony, attended only by friends and family, the people that mattered to the both of you, and it was two years after that, that you two of you moved into a house in his family's neighborhood and welcomed your first child, a boy, that you both mutually agreed on, and named, Michail. If it wasn't for your brother, in so many ways, neither you or Henry would have met and fallen in love.

Your life was perfect now and even though you had lost your brother, neither you or Henry would change it for anything.

-- END --

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 2 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 3 / 4 / 5

_____________________________________________________

~Nesta~

The day after meeting my fiancé, I drop Alexei off at the plane, tell him goodbye, and drive further down the tarmac to where Cassian’s waiting in a completely different private plane.

Very environmentally conscious, our lifestyle

The stairs are unfolded, so after making sure my luggage is transferred over, I head inside.

Cassian’s waiting, sipping bourbon despite the fact that it’s nine in the morning.

He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a black long sleeve t-shirt that makes the tattoos on his hands and knuckles seem even more pronounced. He seems more comfortable now than yesterday.

Like he’s not trying to fit into the mold of a respectable gentleman in a suit.

He looks over as my heels click against the floor, eyes dragging up my legs, pausing at my chest, and scanning my face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t know what else to say.

My lips twitch as I slide into the seat across from him, staying silent for now to throw him off.

As expected, he shifts in his seat, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Then, like he realizes what I’m doing, he narrows his eyes. “You realize that a woman who just sits there, looks pretty, and doesn’t argue is pretty much a man’s dream, right?”

A smile tugs at my lips, but I sigh like I’m not the least bit amused. “Good morning, Cassian.”

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to determine the proper response for such a ground-breaking conversation opener.

He finally decides on: “You don’t have an accent.”

“Not when I speak English.”

Alexei, the hypocritical bastard, said English should sound like English and Russian should sound like Russian.

“Do you speak any other languages?” he asks, apparently not having looked in my file. He’s probably trying to figure out if his secret conversations with his fellow countrymen are safe.

“I speak Italian, since that’s what you really want to know.”

He grins, playful light in his eyes. “I think I’d like to hear that.”

An amused laugh escapes me at that, but I give him what he wants as I murmur, “Sono sicuro che lo faresti.” I’m sure you would.

His eyes seem to darken, and I roll my eyes. Men.

“I speak a little Russian, but not much,” he tells me. Considering I, unlike him, I did my homework, I already knew that.

Done with this conversation, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. A plan that goes out the window when Cassian says confidently, “I usually only speak Italian when I fuck.”

I know he’s trying to feel me out, get a rise out of me, so I keep my voice completely deadpan as I reply, “Interesting. I tend to choose French.”

He laughs, face splitting into a humongous, goofy-looking grin. “Now that, I can’t wait to hear.”

Ah, yes. Because the idea I won’t sleep with him is unthinkable.

To me, too, but at least I’m not an asshole about it. Time to humble him a bit.

I feign like I’m not attracted to him in the slightest as I make a show of looking him over. “I never said you would, tupitsa.”

Before he can respond to me calling him a dumbass, I close my eyes and go to sleep.

~Cassian~

My fiancé passes out in a matter of seconds. It’s a little impressive, honestly. One second she’s teasing me with the thought of French whispers under silk sheets, the next she’s dead to the world.

I, unfortunately, am stuck on the first part.

Fuck, she’s hot.

It’s an effortless sort of beauty, considering she isn’t wearing makeup and her hair appears to be naturally blonde and straight.

Regardless, she looks like she just stepped off a runway.

Delicate bone structure, fierce eyes, full lips that sounded so good saying my name it took me a moment to formulate a response.

Distracting curves, sweeping hips, long legs that are currently crossed and allowing the slightest hint of lace at the top of her stocking to show.

My dick takes notice of that site, and I remind the greedy bastard she’s a Russian--an enemy--but he doesn’t seem to care. Nope, he wants me to peel those stockings down. With my teeth.

What’s somehow hotter than even her choice of legwear is the fact that she isn’t doing it on purpose. She’s completely relaxed, asleep for God’s sake, not trying to seduce me.

I grit my teeth and look out the window.

Like every other time I fly, I get restless after about ten minutes. I pull out my phone and make sure everything’s ready for when we land, work on my laptop for a bit, stare at Nesta sleeping for a longer bit, and pace the aisle like a caged lion when I start to feel like a creep.

Because I’ve been dealing with administrative shit like getting engaged, it’s been a while since I’ve done something to quell the rush in my blood.

Business, surprisingly, is boring when an army of hateful Russians isn’t trying to kill you all the time. I haven’t fought in days, haven’t shot my gun in longer.

I send Ricardo a text and have him set up a fight for tonight, but even the thought of the coming violence does nothing to help me calm down.

By the time we land, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of this plane.

Nesta wakes up when the wheels touch down, stretching and looking annoyingly well rested.

As the plane taxis, I tell her, “I have to work tonight.”

It’s a lie, and she cocks her eyebrow like she knows it. But she doesn’t call me on it, doesn’t even seem that interested. “I already requested a separate car.”

My brows furrow because I hate being predictable, but I keep my mouth shut.

Nesta stands as the stairs drop open, straightening her dress and pulling it down over the lacey top of her stockings that are now right in front of my face.

Before I even realize what she’s about, there’s a sharp smack to the bottom of my chin that forces my head up. She tsks, shaking her head teasingly.

“What was that for?” I ask, even though I already know.

She grabs her bag, and I follow as she walks down to the tarmac. “Somnophilia.”

I take a second to look up what the hell that is, laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes when I find the definition. Nesta shakes her head, small smile on those distracting lips, and walks to her waiting driver.

“I’ll see you at home, wife,” I call, not able to resist.

She just flips me the bird over her shoulder, making me laugh again.

Like I said, not what I was expecting.

~Nesta~

Things with Cassian are going... well, I guess.

He has the emotional maturity of a seventeen year old boy, but he isn’t terrible. As long as he stays out of my way, I dare say this marriage might work.

He’ll go about his business, I’ll go about mine, and we’ll avoid each other for happily ever after just like the fairytales say.

I shake my head as Maxim, one of the first New York transplants, navigates us through the city and to Sera. I’ve visited all my clubs at least once, and I have to admit, this one is by far my favorite.

As it should be.

The other three I run in New York were all my father’s originally. Built by a man, for the entertainment of men, I have to say they aren’t places I’d visit myself.

But I built Sera from the ground up, and while it’s designed to appeal to both men and women, men are--for the first time in history--not the priority.

The building it’s located in is a skyscraper, one I rent out to different businesses that don’t need an entire place to themselves. The ground floor is a bank, one that discretely cleans Russian money and makes us more through interest.

All in all, an unremarkable location to the public eye.

But every night, after normal banking hours have long passed, a select number of guests are invited to Sera--a speakeasy-type burlesque club with a hidden entrance in the secondary vault of the bank.

It’s secret, exclusive, and private as hell.

When we get to the bank, I enter the passcode on the side door--changed nightly--and walk through the silent lobby to the back room where the bouncer sits on a wooden stool.

“Privet, boss,” the burly man greets, sweeping the door open and ushering me through with a meaty hand. “Man in the back is asking for the owner.”

I nod and step inside, the door immediately closing behind me.

It’s the perfect level of crowded; enough people that no one stands out but not packed to the point of misery. By design, of course.

Everything seems to be the same as when I visited a few months ago except for the changed flooring I had installed last week. The tables and booths in the back are full of people captivated by the jazz singer on stage, a woman I discovered while walking to a business meeting in Paris.

Her cigarette-roughened voice had pulled me in, much like it does the audience now, and I’d offered her a job on the spot.

One of the bartenders, an ex-con who was locked up for stealing insulin for his diabetic daughter, smiles at me and slides me a tumblr of vodka as I make my way over.

“Good to see you,” Dima greets warmly. “How long are you here for?”

“Permanently.”

His eyebrows shoot up, which makes sense, considering the engagement hasn’t been announced properly. We’re apparently having a party of some kind in two weeks to celebrate the big news.

“I’ll explain later,” I tell him, noticing a group of people approaching the bar.

He nods, and I slip away towards the back corner where a roped-off set of stairs lead down to the basement below.

Like usual, there’s a private poker game happening in the main room of the bottom floor, and I stop to make say a few hellos but eventually move on to the hallway containing offices for some of the management.

The soldier stationed at the door to mine nods in acknowledgement, then tells me a whale’s inside.

My brows raise at the idea of a big-time investor coming to see me at this hour, but I shrug and walk in, shoulders back and face blank. I learned a long time ago to never let my emotions play out on my face.

The man waiting inside looks to be in his forties, richer than sin, and cold. Mafia, undoubtedly. His dark eyes rake over me, and he asks in a tone I don’t appreciate, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Nesta Orlov. You requested to speak to me?”

His bushy brows pinch together. “No, I want to speak to the owner.”

“One and the same.”

“I was told Cassian Azara is the owner.”

My jaw clenches at the thought that we’ve been engaged for less than two days and people already assume my shit is his. “By who?” I ask, remembering our upcoming nuptials aren’t even public news yet.

“My Capo.”

That gets my attention.

Rhysand’s telling people my club is Cassian’s? Why?

Something isn’t right.

I might not know the Italian boss, but I’ve heard he’s straightforward. Ruthless but honest. So why would he lie?

A little voice inside my head whispers, What if he isn’t?

Mind whirling, I turn to the man and smile politely even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Would you mind giving me a moment? If you go upstairs, our bartender will get you anything you want, on the house.”

He shrugs and leaves, and as soon as the door clicks shut, I go to my desk and pull up the electronic copy of our marriage contract.

Like I thought, nothing’s amiss.

I read this shit thoroughly enough to know exactly what I was getting into, and in case I missed anything, I had my private lawyer scan over it.

But that little voice, that gut feeling, refuses to go away. So I grab my bag and look through the physical copy, dread unfurling when I notice an extra page tucked in the middle.

It’s a prenup.

One I’ve never seen.

And there, smack dab in the middle, is a line declaring the deed to Sera the property of Cassian Azara.

A rough breath forces its way out of me, and for a second, I’m so angry, so blind with rage, I can’t hardly think. What the hell is going on?

I force myself to think through this, to rationalize what I’m seeing.

Replaying the moment in the Capo’s office, I realize the switch between the original and this version of the contract must’ve happened prior. I was only in there a few minutes and had the papers in my hand the whole time.

Which means...

Alexei picks up on the first ring, like he was waiting for the call. “Da.”

“What the hell have you done?”

He sighs. “What needed doing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I wasn’t the one who started a goddamn war with the Italians, and yet I’m the one who’s paying all the prices. I’m marrying the bastard, for fuck’s sake. Give him one of your clubs.”

His tone hardens. “He didn’t want anything else.”

“I don’t give a shit! This place is my property. It isn’t yours to give away.” I take a deep breath and try to quiet the rushing in my veins. “That idiot will run it into the ground.”

There’s a long moment, and I swear he sounds a little guilty as he says calmly, “He has more than a few businesses of his own, Nesta. It will be fine.”

I pinch my lips together to keep from cursing the man who raised me.

“If you read the document,” he says, a strange note to his voice. “You’ll notice there are a number of clauses.”

My eyes scan to the bottom of the page, and I read as Alexei continues. “He is permitted from selling, unless to you. The investors have the option to vote him out at any time. And if he is unfaithful to you or ends the engagement for whatever reason, Sera is returned to you in full.”

All the violence, all the rage, seems to dim. Just a little.

This is so like Alexei; in fact, it was one of his first lessons to me.

Give someone the illusion of winning, and they’ll sign anything you want them to.

I read through the clauses again, lips twitching. “Let me get this straight. If I can prove Cassian Azara--notorious playboy of New York--is cheating on me, the club is mine? And if the board at Sera votes him out, he can’t fight it?”

I can practically hear my father’s smile. “Da.”

“Or if I drive him crazy and he ends the engagement?”

“Da.”

Sounds easy enough. I drive Alexei absolutely insane and have never had a long-term relationship. I’ll have him running for the hills in no time.

One thing doesn’t make sense, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t sign. It’s still a risk, even with the clauses” He takes a deep breath. “I never told you, but we were losing the war in New York. We would’ve lasted another year, and then we would’ve lost the city.”

“Alexei-”

“I need this alliance to hold, Volchonok,” he says. “And either of you calling off the engagement or divorcing the other is grounds for the war to start back up.”

“So you’re saying I still need to marry him.”

He gruffs a confirmation, and my brain whirls as it thinks of a new plan.

My options are down to three: have him sell to me, prove he’s cheating, or get the board to vote him out.

“One more thing. You only have until the wedding. Once you’re married, the only way to get your property back is if he signs the deed to you.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, moving my timeline up by a factor of a hundred. Checking the calendar proves what I already know: I have less than thirty days to somehow convince one of the most notoriously stubborn men in the world to give me a multi-million dollar company.

Easy.

“I’m... sorry. For lying.”

I’m so shocked he just apologized--something he’s never done in my twenty-five years of life--it takes me a moment to respond and tell him he’s forgiven. “Ty proshchen, otets.”

I disconnect the call and swivel around in the chair, a smile pulling on my lips.

I’m going to drive him fucking crazy. All while I make him fall in love with me.

Oh, Cassian. I almost feel sorry for you.

_______________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #acosf #nesta archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses

112 notes · View notes

whimsicallyreading · 4 years

Text

Dark Roast, No Sugar

Part Two

Aelin leaned her head against a solid chest and counted the beats. These stolen moments were what she and Sam lived for. His breaths were even, and the gentle rumble of thunder outside assured their temporary safety.

Arobynn's plain was delayed due to the torrential downpour flooding Rifthold. They'd received the text at the same time, and Sam immediately came to find her. Sneaking into the manor was risky, but Tern, Harding, and Mulligan were all occupied, and no one would dare enter Arobynn's office while he was away.

Well, everyone besides them. The danger was definitely worth it, Aelin mused as she stretched like a cat and sprawled into a more comfortable position over the muscled torso. A hand reached up and dragged calloused fingers through her hair, making her preen with satisfaction.

Sam chuckled from below her, spread out like a starfish on Arobynn's poached polar bear rug. She felt sad for the untimely death of the creature, but she couldn't deny it made the perfect spot for their rendezvous.

"We can't stay like this forever," Sam reminds her gently. He works his fingers down her long blond hair to the nape of her neck, where he works at the knotted muscles.

"Not now, but soon," she reminds him as if he wasn't the one to concoct their crazy escape plan.

A kiss pressed against her forehead marks the seal of his promise. "Soon," he agrees. "This hell will be over for you and me." The conviction of his voice lets that little tealight of hope in her chest flicker dangerously.

"We will be free. The only dreams we will be having is what our home together will look like," she nuzzles into his chest and urges him to keep going. He knows she likes it when he talks long term to her.

"In the mornings, I will wake up to you in my bed. Your hair all over the place, and your arms constricting me like a hungry python."

She cracks her eyes open at that and gives him a sleepy glare.

"I wouldn't change a single thing about it," he continues. "Knowing you are safe with me is all I will ever need to be happy. Waking up to you in my arms is enough beauty to sate me wherever we end up. I'll be the happiest man alive."

Tears burned the corners of her eyes, and a lump ached in her throat. For so long, she'd been deprived of affection and relationships of any kind. Aelin couldn't help the feeling of free-falling every time Sam declared his love. It was a treasure she thought she'd never had again. "I love you, Sam," Aelin whispers against his chest and presses a messy kiss to the muscle there.

"Then why didn't you look for me?" His voice cracks in pain.

Startled, Aelin's head shoots up. Ice chills her blood, and the screams that pour from Aelin's mouth are unearthly when she's faced with the gaping holes where his eyes should be.

His eyes. She feels that familiar pain beneath her ribs. Those eyes that had been so kind. Made her feel so safe and radiated warmth. Aelin mourned their loss. Mourned him.

"You didn't look for me," those damning words left his lips again.

Aelin wakes up with a sob. "I'm sorry," she yells to the empty room.

"I'm sorry," she keens. There are no hands in her hair. No beating heart beneath her cheek. She curls into a ball and grabs locks of her hair, pulling at them until strands fall loosely into her hand. The agony builds until it pinches her gut so hard and wrenches her heart so profoundly that she barely makes it to the toilet before hot, acidic bile burns a path up her throat.

It burns through her over and over until she's leaned against the toilet seat sobbing. Her arms wrapped around her midsection protectively.

Morning sickness should have passed by now, but she still spent a great deal of time in this position. It never got less painful, and Aelin's seemed more aggressive than what other mothers recounted experiencing online. Her constant sickness and nightmares were leaving her feeling weak.

Maybe it was a punishment for bringing a little life into a world that had savaged its father? That thought crossed Aelin's mind often. Perhaps it was penance for her selfishness. Her wanting to keep this small piece of Sam despite knowing the kind of life it would be subjected to endure.

There was no forgiveness for the things she's done. Why would the universe let her have this? She should just be grateful it hadn't been taken from her entirely.

Spineless, coward.

Aelin laid curled up on the bathroom floor for hours. Existing in a constant cycle of sickness followed by mental torment. Chills wracked her frame, and she trembled on the cold tile. She barely had the energy to lift herself up when the urge to vomit struck her. Words floated in her head, furthering her misery.

Coward. Liar. Oathbreaker. Life taker.

That's where Lysandra found her, at a much more reasonable hour of the morning. Aelin was so tired she could only sob when the door cracked open. Her head fell forward and rested against the porcelain seat, too weak to hold it up any longer.

Lysandra had cringed and very gently guided her head from the toilet rim to her shoulder, nestling Aelin's forehead into the crook of her neck despite the cold-sweat there.

She crooned sweet nothings and soothed Aelin until she had the strength to stand up and collect herself. Lysandra helped her dress and brush her teeth. She left Aelin to sit on the couch and came back with lightly buttered toast, a glass of water, and a cup of ginger tea.

Her attempt to decline it was futile. Lysandra left no room for argument. Slowly, Aelin bit the toast and sipped the tea. Bite by bite and drink by drink, she finished the breakfast.

Lysandra didn't relent her hovering for the rest of the morning. As she was forced through her morning routine under her friend's watchful eye, she began to feel more human, and that awful pain slowly faded to the background of her mind. Nausea still rolled in her belly, but the food and drink helped settle it enough for her to function.

Now here Aelin was, only a couple of hours later, filling muffin cups to have ready for the early morning regulars.

Her attitude was dismal.

She felt sick. Her body ached from hours of lying on the cold tile. Sweat soaked her clothes and chilled her forehead. Just looking at her cup of tea made her angry that it wasn't coffee, but her stomach burned so furiously that not even coffee sounded good. It was a horrible paradox and was only just that much more upsetting.

Aelin felt her eyes begin to burn with tears, and she slammed the bowl of batter down so hard that it splattered up her apron. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes and tried to will the tears back down.

Maybe she would cave to Lysandra's demands that she go upstairs and rest. It went grated against her desire to be self-sufficient and independent, but taking a hot bath and curling up in her bed sounded like pure bliss. The baby would likely benefit from her decompressing, too. That thought sold her on the idea.

The bell at the counter rang.

Aelin took a deep breath and washed her hands quickly. She would take this customer and then let Lysandra know she was taking the day off.

Thinking of the jasmine soap and the warm blanket waiting for her upstairs was just enough for her to plaster on a smile.

"Goodmorning, how can I- you," The last word came out in a hiss. Aelin's smile melted as quickly as it came.

The asshole was back, and he brought a friend.

Whoop-dee-freaking-doo.

To his credit, the friend was equally as beautiful as the Asshole himself. He had dark skin, the color of polished pennies, and long blonde hair that coiled just above the arches of his cheekbones. If his choice of companionship didn't perturb Aelin so much, she might've found him attractive.

Hell, she found him attractive anyway.

"Is that how you greet all your customers, sweetheart?" The friend smiled at her, and his perfect teeth were bright enough to signal plains.

"Do you call every girl sweetheart or only the ones you want to spit in your coffee?" Her tone is sharp enough to cut glass, and the man's eyes widen at the challenge.

"I don't drink coffee, but I supposed the hot chocolate I was going to order is just as easy to violate," he laughs warmly, and her eyes follow the motion of his adam's apple. "How about I lay off the pet names in exchange for a warm cup of sugar without saliva?" His face was sincere enough that she felt less inclined to spite him for his choice of friends.

"Your name?" she asks.

"Fenrys," he offers without a joke, and Aelin writes it on a cup.

"I want a dark roast, black." The asshole reiterated his order from the day before. He had his arms crossed, and his face was set in a grimace. His comment the other day still rang in her ears, and she was certainly not feeling generous. Aelin scowled at him and left them both at the counter without a word.

It only took a few minutes to make the cocoa. She made every cup from scratch with a recipe she'd been perfecting since childhood. As she prepped the drink, the store bells rang again.

Turning around with the drink, she spotted her cousin Aedion at the door and smiled.

She and Aedion had been separated by the system shortly after her parent's death. He was five years older, and their caseworker though Aelin stood a better chance of being adopted by herself. It was a traumatic memory for both of them. They'd found each other about a year ago, and it took little time for them to rekindle their relationship.

She set the cup on the counter in front of them. "That will be three-fifty." The Asshole raised a pale eyebrow. "My coffee?"

"I have the right to refuse services to anyone I wish. That will be three-fifty." Aelin felt great satisfaction as The Asshole's lips pinched together and his scowl deepened.

Aedion raised his eyebrow from across the room.

Lysandra chose that moment to walk back in, and when she caught sight of Aelin's expression and saw the seething man in front of her, she hastily made her way over.

"Can I help you?" She asks, looking towards the men. Aelin knew the question was directed at her, though.

There were a lot of eyes on her. Aedion. Asshole. Handsome Fenrys. Lysandra. Aelin thrived on attention, but there was a difference between attention and being a spectacle. The room suddenly felt a lot smaller and crowded.

Fenrys placed a hand on the Asshole's shoulder, concerned. "Hey. It's fine. We can get your cup of dirt water somewhere else. It's not a big deal, Rowan."

Rowan.

"I am a paying customer," the man, Rowan, gritted through his teeth.

"You are paying for my coffee and pastries," Aelin snarled. "Your money does not purchase you the right to verbally abuse me.

Aedion was over in an instant, chest puffed and oozing with male bravado. "Well met, gentleman. I believe my cousin said three-fifty." He edged close enough to bother their personal space. "If it's too difficult for you to figure out, I can help you count your coins and show you the door?"

At six-two, Aedion was an intimidating figure. He was physically massive—layers of dense muscle from underground fighting and patrolling the streets with his gang, The Bane. An impressive tapestry of ink sprawled across his chest, curling out of his sleeves and collar just enough to let others know it's there. Most people would see him and think twice about approaching him.

Rowan was taller than Aedion even, and perhaps more muscular as well. They squared up, neither breaking eye contact.

Fenrys seemed displeased with the turn of events, but when Aedion turned to glare at him, there was a flash of recognition in his eyes. He was next to Rowan in an instant, pushing on his chest. "That's enough of your shit. I'll pay, and we are leaving."

He fished out five dollars from the pocket of his trousers and tossed it on the counter. "Keep the change. Sorry for disturbing your day, ladies."

When the shop bells jingled, and the door slammed shut behind them, Aelin sighed and felt herself wilt against the counter. Her breathing was labored, and her heart still thrummed with the excess of adrenalin. She was prepared for a fight. Muscle memory had her tense and ready for the situation to escalate, which of course, it didn't. Old habits died hard, though.

A steadying hand was gripping her elbow and helping her lean into a solid body. "Hey, Ace. Relax, it's fine."

Lysandra shook her head, "That was the bastard from yesterday, I am guessing? You should have let me take care of that." She points up the stairs. "Go. You need to take a day off. Upstairs. Make sure she sits down, Aedion."

"I had it handled," Aelin grumbled, allowing Aedion to tug her towards the stairs in the back of the little kitchen.

Her cousin snorted, "Oh, I know you can handle yourself. The stress isn't good for Little A, though."

"You just want to throw your street cred around."

Aedion laughed, "That too."

Aelin slumped onto the thread worn couch and tugged at her tennis shoes. She sighed when they finally slipped off, and she could rest her swollen feet on the old coffee table. Their apartment wasn't the luxury she and Lysandra were accustomed to, but it was more of a home than the Mannor had been.

"You look exhausted," Aedion stated bluntly.

Aelin closed her eyes and hummed. "Is that the language you use when you talk people into your bed?"

"Not a lot of talking is required for that," Aedion says with a straight face. "Even if it was, I would be practicing on Lysandra, not you."

Few words passed between them after that. They weren't necessary. Aelin and Aedion talked and texted all the time, but there were times when they just needed to soak in each other's presence. Years apart starved them of that unspoken bond they'd had as children.

Being close to Aedion was one of the few things that staved the fear and allowed her to relax. He was like the familiar taste of hot tea and the warmth of a childhood blanket wrapped into one. She had no doubt that Lysandra had called and ordered him to come to see her at some point this morning.

The Bane typically showed up on Friday nights to play poker at her tables and hang out. Aedion would stay through the weekend, and they would catch up then. An early morning visit on a weekday was out of the ordinary. Occasionally Kyllian or Jerome would pop by and make sure nothing was amiss.

When Aelin and Lysandra liberated themselves and opened the shop, Aedion had insisted they find a location in The Bane's stomping ground. Arobynn was less likely to stumble across them outside of his territory. She'd seen Tern and Mulligan prowling the streets.

Arobynn wouldn't let them go so quickly.

Aelin hadn't wanted Aedion to get involved, but there was no way he would leave them defenseless.

They compromised.

Once a month Aelin would donate a small share of The Stag's tips for their protection. It was a pitiful amount. So she also offered her spare bedroom as a hideaway for Aedion's friends who needed a place to lay low. So far, only Ren had utilized it, but it was always ready to go.

Aelin was by no means someone to screw with. Her other name was just as well known on the streets as The Bane were. It was a good arrangement.

It's why Rowan had gotten under her skin so badly. She needed those tips to keep The Bane well equipped and for other resources to keep Arobynn out of her hair.

He didn't know about the baby. Didn't realize the depth of how much Aelin had actually betrayed him. There would be hell to pay if he ever found out.

Plus, baby shit was expensive.

"So," Aedion finally broke the silence. "How did you piss off the cops?"

Wait. "What?" Aelin sat up and leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"That was Detective Fenrys. He booked me the last time one of our fights got broken up. Nice guy. Let me out on a technicality." Aedion smiled. "Maybe he just thought I was good looking. He's not wrong. I am assuming the other guy is his partner."

"They are detectives?" Aelin spat.

"The best and brightest Orynth has to offer," Aedion ruffled her hair as he stood. "You sure know how to pick your fights, cousin."

Well shit.

#samisactuallydeadoops #rowanisaworkinprogress #aelinandrowan #coffeeshopau #throne of glass #angst #fanfic

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haikyu-boys-am-i-right · 3 years

Text

Snow day with Bokuto

Character: Bokuto

Warnings: none

Requested: no

Word count: 1,087

Summary: yn and Bokuto have a snow day. They have a snowball fight, they make a snowman, and they even make snow angels.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated but please don’t repost my works.

Disclaimer: I do not own haikyuu or any of the characters.

———————————————————————

Brr it’s cold. Yn gets out of bed and hears over to the window. I wonder what the weather is like today. Yn pulls the curtains back and she gasps at the sight of the winter wonderland that is outside. “Wow it snowed an awful lot”, yn says as she looks out of her bedroom window in shock, it’s pretty late in the season for snow too. As she dresses warmly for the day her phone alerts her that she has gotten a text. Yn picks up her phone and she smiles as she sees that the text is from her boyfriend Bokuto.

💕Koutarou💕

Yn it snowed! Wanna have a snow day?

❤️Yn (Babe)❤️

Sure sounds like fun, so do you want me to come over to your house or do you want to come over here?

💕Koutarou💕

I’ll head on over there so be getting ready to have some fun!

A little while later yn hears a knock on the door. “Coming” she says as she walks to the door. She smiles as she opens the door knowing that it is Bokuto who is knocking on the door, but she gasps as she is met with a snowball that just her right in the face. “Hey what was that for”, she says, wiping snow from her face. She opens her eyes to find Bokuto holding his stomach as he laughs. “You should see your face right now” he says. Yn smirks and bends down to pick up some snow from off of the ground. “Oh it is on kou” she yells. Bokuto’s face lights up as he turns to run and yn’s snowball hits him right in the back. “Hey” he says as a determined look crosses his face. “Alright let’s have a snowball fight”.

By the time they have finished their little snowball fight yn and bokuto’s cheeks and hands are red from the cold. “I knew I should have worn gloves”, yn says, trying to blow on her hands to warm them up. Bokuto walks over to her and pulls out a pair of his own gloves out of his jacket pocket and he slips them onto her hands and she rubs them together as she smiles up at him gratefully. “Wait why are you not wearing gloves?'' she asks. Bokuto shrugs. “Well I find it easier to shape snowballs when I’m not wearing gloves”. “But you’ll freeze you,'' she says worriedly. Bokuto shakes his head. “Nah, I won’t freeze not as long as my hot girlfriend is right beside me,” he says with a wink. Yn rolls her eyes and tries not to smirk at the extremely cheesy pick up line. Suddenly yn gets an idea. “Hey, do you want to build a snowman with me kou”?, she asks. Bokuto grins back at her. “Sure that sounds like fun”, he says.

Bokuto and yn begin to form the bottom of the snowman and by then it has formed a well rounded base for their snowman. They then start on the middle part of the snowman and after they have completed that, Bokuto has to lift it himself seeing as it is too heavy for yn to lift. “Alright now onto the head”, yn says as she begins to form a nice round head for the final part of their snowman. After the head has been placed on the body of the snowman Bokuto turns to yn. “Why don’t you head inside and get the carrot for the nose, a hat for the head, something for the mouth, something for the eyes, and possibly a scarf and while you are doing that I will go and find some good sticks for the arms okay”? “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute”, yn says as she heads inside.

Yn returns shortly with a large carrot, some buttons for the eyes and mouth, a top hat, and a red scarf. Bokuto grins proudly as he shows yn the two sticks that they will use as arms for the snowman. Yn gasps and almost drops the things she is carrying because the two sticks are so big they could be classified as branches and she is supposed that the arms did not fall off. “Wow, those are big” she says. “Yeah I found them on the ground under a tree nearby and it seems that the sudden cold froze the branches and these two snapped off and i thought why not make our snowman super strong” Bokuto says. “Well that will do it alright”, Yn says and she laughs as she hands Bokuto some of the buttons and he starts to put them on the snowman as the mouth while yn takes two buttons and uses them to make the eyes. “These look great yn”, Bokuto says. Yn hands Bokuto the carrot and he places it right in the middle of the snowman’s face in order to give the snowman a nose. Yn then puts the top hat on top of the snowman’s head and Bokuto puts the scarf around the snowman’s neck.

“Whew, that was a lot of work” yn says as she wipes her forehead. “I’ll say it was,” Bokuto says grinning proudly. Suddenly Bokuto falls back into the snow and yn shrieks as he pulls on her hand hard enough that she falls into the snow beside him. “What was that for kou”, she asks turning to face him with a frown on her face. He grins at her. “Let’s make snow angels yn,'' he says, flopping back onto the snow and moving his arms and legs back and forth. “Alright”, yn says with a laugh as she copies Bokuto’s movements.

After they have finished up their snow angels, yn and Bokuto carefully get up out of the snow to ensure that they don’t mess up their snow angels. “They look great don’t they”, Bokuto says. “Yeah they sure do”, yn says as she and Bokuto high five.

Suddenly an icy cold wind hits them making yn shiver and bokuto frowns. “I guess we should go inside” he says. “I mean we have been out here for a while after all”. Yn nods showing that she agrees with him. “I can make us some hot cocoa to warm us up,” yn says. “You’re the best babe” Bokuto says as he hugs her. “Yeah yeah” yn says with a laugh as she hugs him before taking his hand in hers to lead him inside. “Now let’s get inside before we really do become popsicles”.

#Bokuto koutarou x reader #Bokuto koutarou #haikyuu x reader #bokuto hq #hq! x reader #Bokuto koutarou x you #Bokuto x reader #Bokuto x y/n #bokuto x you #hq!! x reader #hq!! scenarios #hq!! fanfiction #hq x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #sfw #my fics

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cakesunflower · 4 years

Text

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 6

A/N: this one’s kinda longer than the previous parts, which is fine given that i haven’t updated in a hot minute. happy reading!!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

There wasn’t a schedule the students and teachers were meant to follow while at Big Bear Mountain. The group of students were divided up into three sections according to the bus they arrived in and were the responsibility of the two teachers they had come with. So Odessa and Calum were in charge of some thirty-odd students, giving the students their phone numbers to check in with them every few hours during the weekend. For the most part, the students were free to do as they pleased on the resort; the only thing they must do was meet with everyone for dinner later on that night and for breakfast on Saturday morning as well as Sunday before they left to go back home.

After making sure the students in her and Calum’s charge were gone to their rooms to take the time to settle in, Odessa went to her own. She tried not to think of Calum’s room right across the hall from hers, instead focused on putting her toiletries bag in the bathroom and bringing out the coat she’d borrowed from Sierra. Even getting off the bus and walking to the lobby of the hotel allowed Odessa to feel the cool temperature of the area, and mentally thanked Sierra for the coat she knew she’d be wearing all weekend long.

She didn’t really see the point in unpacking, knowing they’d be there only until Sunday, so she rested her suitcase on the table meant for it by the window before peering out. Her room provided her with a beautiful view of a lake, catching sight of the snowy slopes not too far away that she knew the students were excited to take advantage of. Apparently, many of her Los Angeles students knew how to ski and-or snowboard. Odessa didn’t know how to do either, so she was going to take advantage of the small shopping center village their hotel was located right next to—a walking distance—as well as a heated indoor pool and other amenities that didn’t involve skis or snowboards.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she’d spent it relaxing on the comfortable bed, reading the texts that came through of students in the group chat informing her and Calum of where they were heading to. It wasn’t until Odessa made sure every student in their charge had checked in that she decided to leave the room. In the mood to walk around to grow familiar with her surroundings, Odessa put on some warmer clothing, chuckling softly as she caught sight of the red beanie Grams had knitted for her. The woman was a whiz with those knitting needles.

After dressing warmly, Odessa grabbed her purse and left the room, boots padding softly on the carpeted hall as she headed towards the elevators. She stepped into the empty lift, and just as the doors began sliding shut, a hand shot through to keep it from closing, startling Odessa. Her gasp seemed too loud in the small space, widened eyes watching as the doors slid open once more, only to reveal Calum standing on the other side. Of course.

His dark eyes met her blue, and he offered a small smile as he stepped inside, looking warm in a hoodie under his coat, a grey beanie of his own covering his blonde hair. Odessa pressed her teeth together. She absolutely hated how awkward things were, knew it was her fault, knew she had the power in changing it. The doors slid shut and Odessa stared at their blurred reflections against the doors, Calum standing tall next to her, the silence in the limited space damn near suffocating as she picked at her nails, hands buried in the pockets of her coat.

Surprisingly, Calum broke the silence. “Where you headed?”

Odessa glanced at him, but Calum was checking something on his phone, conveniently avoiding her gaze. Was that for her benefit or his? “Uh, just checking out the little village,” she told him.

“Oh, me too.” She bit the inside of her cheek as he added, “There’s this café I’ve heard about, supposed to be really good. D’you wanna check it out?”

She looked at him once more, chest tightening at the hopeful look he wore in his eyes. The stubborn—read: stupid—part of her wanted to reject Calum’s offer, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Distance was one thing, blatantly ignoring a friend was another, and Odessa didn’t want to be that person. She was already annoyed with herself for treating Calum the way she was—through no fault of his own, only hers and her incapability of figuring out her feelings because she always let others influence her.

“Sure.” Her answered seemed to surprise him and Odessa fought the urge to swallow. How sad was it that Calum was actually taken aback at her agreement of joining him for something? She pushed herself, “Some company would be nice.”

Ironic, coming from her. Odessa was just glad Calum was kind enough not to call her out for it.

The elevator stopped, doors sliding open, and Calum held his arm out and gestured for Odessa to step out first. He followed after her and Odessa zipped up the jacket as the cold greeted them as soon as they left the hotel. There was a large, wide round-about in front of the hotel, one road leading towards the freeway their busses had come from and the other leading right to the village of shops they could see from where they stood.

There were people all around, a few Odessa recognized as students from their school, and she and Calum continued down the path leading right into the village. It was more like a pedestrian street with short one, maybe two, story buildings on either side, going on for miles, consisting of boutiques, restaurants, smaller cafes, and other kinds of stores. As they walked down the path, Odessa couldn’t help but feel as though she stepped into some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie, everyone around her dressed warmly to fend off the cold, a low hum of chatter in the air that was quieter than what she was used to on the streets in Los Angeles.

It almost reminded her of her small hometown in Nevada, nearly bringing her that same semblance of a calming peace.

“Is this better than being in the city?” Odessa bit the tip of her tongue, startled at how Calum seemed to read her mind.

She glanced up at him, noting that he was just looking ahead as they walked, sunlight shining on them from above the short buildings on either side of the path. Odessa took a breath, hands in the pockets of her jacket as she responded slowly, “Yeah, I guess. It’s a lot less. . . Hectic.”

“Do you miss your hometown? In Nevada?” Calum asked. Odessa refrained from frowning at him. She was positive they’d had this conversation before, and Calum wasn’t the kind to forget details about others. Was he just trying to make useless small talk? Had her stupid efforts of putting distance between them worked a little too well in making things awkward between them?

Odessa kept her gaze ahead, rolling her lower lip into her mouth. This felt strange. Wrong. Being with and talking to Calum had always been so easy, from the moment she had met him. Whatever tension existed between them, it was her fault. She had to fix it. “Not as much as I thought I would,” she answered truthfully. “I grew up in Ely but. . . There’s nothing there for me anymore. I miss my students, sure. But my mom’s always flying around, my grandparents are here, and so are my friends.” Odessa glanced at her feet, feeling a small fond smile curl at her lips. “Los Angeles isn’t so bad.”

“Yeah,” Calum hummed as they continued along. Someone whizzed by them on a bike, and Odessa was caught in the gust of wind they left behind. Damn, wasn’t it cold enough? “I’m glad it’s goin’ well for you, Odessa. I really am.”

She glanced up at him, catching the small yet genuine smile he flashed her way. Her heart clenched, feeling the guilt of pushing him away once again resurface. Odessa knew, in that moment, this particular guilt was a lot stronger than when she had felt it for feeling as though she was betraying Paige. Harsh as it may sound, Paige wasn’t someone Odessa could, or had to, betray. They weren’t friends, no matter how they painted the picture. It was about time Odessa came to proper terms with it.

They reached the café Calum had been talking about, and Odessa smiled as he held the door open for her. The inside of the café was warm, a somewhat busy, smelling like fresh sandwiches and coffee as the hostess greeted them with a smile and ushered them over to a table by the window right away. They sat across from one another as Odessa shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair as the hostess handed them the menus before wandering off.

Odessa took the menu, not really reading what was on it because her attention was on the man sitting across from her. She peeked up from her menu, and maybe it was too warm in the cafe because Calum took off his beanie, running his hands through his short blonde hair, and Odessa noticed the darker roots growing in. Still, he looked good. Unsurprisingly.

She looked back down at the menu just as Calum asked, “Is your mom visiting for the holidays?”

He was trying to make conversation, Odessa knew, and the least she could do was keep it up. “Yeah,” she answered, feeling a small smile tug at her lips. “Bringing her boyfriend for us to meet, too.” Her mom hadn’t been able to make it for Thanksgiving, which would’ve been sad if Odessa particularly cared about the holiday, but she was definitely flying in for Christmas. Her boyfriend, one of the pilots of her the airline she worked for, was coming with her too so she could introduce him. Odessa was excited to see them both. “What about you? What’re your plans?”

“Ah, gonna be in New Zealand,” he told her with a small smile. “Spending it with my mom and grandparents.”

Odessa nodded in acknowledgment, eyes on the menu. She decided to go for the chicken panini. If Calum was going to spend Christmas with his mom, that meant his sister was going to be spending with their dad. He had told Odessa, one time when they were talking about their families, how he and his sister, Mali-Koa, switched off who they spent Christmas with every other year, with the one in between where both siblings were together with one parent. When that happened, New Years was spent with the parent they didn’t see during Christmas. Odessa silently wondered if that was better, of it she just preferred being with her mom every year and never seeing her dad.

Just as quickly as that thought had come, though, it disappeared all the same. Calum’s parents were still friends, from what he told her. Both Odessa and her mom wanted nothing to do with her dad.

A waitress came by soon enough, taking their drink orders and wondering if they wanted to order food right then too, which they did. Once she left, a silence befell Odessa and Calum, immune to any disruption by the chatter of the other café patrons. She loathed the mild tension she could feel between them, loathed that she knew it was because of her putting some distance between her and Calum for weeks since she had been unable to figure her feelings out. She wasn’t doing anything to ease the tension, either, as she opted to gaze out the window to her right, watching unfamiliar faces walk past the window, wondering if the lived their lives without making them complicated for themselves.

“Gotta be honest—I’m surprised you agreed to eat with me.” Odessa felt herself freeze where she sat, gaze snapping over to Calum before she could even think about it. When she looked at Calum, her breath silently hitched in her throat because instead of appearing accusatory like he had every right to, Calum looked almost reluctant to bring up the topic. Like he didn’t want to venture into somewhat dangerous territory, but had to anyway because he knew it was the path that led to honesty. Which Odessa knew he deserved.

“Calum—”

“I’ve been trying to give you your space, Odessa,” Calum sighed, head tilting from one side to the other as he sat with his arms crossed over the table. She bit her lower lip as his dark eyes locked with her blue, and her chest tightened when she didn’t see any anger in them. He would be justified if he felt that. Instead, all she saw was confusion, hesitance. He looked unsure, which was a look Odessa wasn’t used to on someone as confident and firm as Calum, and she hated that she put that look on him. “Figured you’d talk when you were ready about what’s been bothering you but—” he let out a short, empty laugh, muddled with confusion. “It’s been a couple of weeks and I’m still in the dark.”

If Odessa was being honest, she hadn’t quite expected Calum to outright ask her about her behavior. She had assumed he’d let her approach him, wait on her like he had been doing for weeks. Maybe he got tired of waiting, wanted answers sooner rather than later—and she didn’t blame him. Still, despite coming to an understanding about her own feelings, Odessa still wasn’t quite sure how to move forward from there, so she didn’t really know what to tell Calum.

Shit. She’d brought this on herself, didn’t she?

When the hell did she become someone who would let anyone have power over her actions—whether they were aware of it or not?

Odessa tried to find the right words to express what she wanted to say without actually spilling what’s been sitting in her heart in some random café. Just because she had come to terms with her feelings for Calum, didn’t mean she was exactly jumping at the opportunity to let him know. She was still at war with herself, mind heavy with the following consequences of letting him know how she felt. Despite what her friends may think, she couldn’t blind herself to the possibility of Calum not feeling the same way. Letting him know that she had feelings for him and him not reciprocating could make their friendship awkward, put a strain on their professional relationship, too. The latter would change no matter how Calum felt about her, but she would selfishly rather it be because they would do something about their mutual feelings rather than because he was avoiding her and her feelings for him.

She suppressed a sigh. Odessa wished the chatter in the café was louder. Maybe it’d drown out her own buzzing thoughts.

“I don’t want you to think you did anything wrong,” Odessa finally spoke up, her words slow and deliberate. Calum’s gaze remained on her; it was an encouraging warmth rather than a demanding heat. “Because you didn’t. This—it’s just something I’m dealing with on my own. And I’m just—I’m sorry for avoiding you. I was just trying to figure some stuff out.”

There. That was vague, but Odessa felt as though it got the message across. Hopefully.

“Did you?” She met his gaze, eyebrows knitting together slightly as Calum offered a barely there shrug. “Figure it out?”

Odessa’s lips parted, though what would say, she was unsure, just as the waitress returned with their food and drinks. She dropped her gaze to her panini, Calum’s question running through her mind. When she looked up again, his eyes were still on her, not even bothering to reach for his food, expectant. Her heart jumped and she exhaled through slightly smiling lips. “Yes and no,” she answered vaguely.

Before Calum could ask what that meant, a familiar voice interrupted them. “Oh, there you two are! On a little date, are you?”

Both of their gazes looked up and Odessa could feel the warmth instantly pooling in her cheeks at Justine Greggs’ comment, freezing in her seat. Justine stood with Bridgit Donnelly, one of the other English teachers, both of them grinning at Odessa and Calum like they knew some secret. The implication behind their smiles, along with Justine’s words, had Odessa wished the ground would swallow her up.

The older women were eyeing her and Calum impishly, and when Odessa chanced a glance at the man sitting across from her, the heat in her face intensified when she saw that charming, boyish grin easily take over his face. A subtle smile, yet enough to completely take her breath away. “Somethin’ like that,” Calum confirmed smoothly, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at them. Odessa tried her hardest not to focus on his words too much—or him—though it was proving to be difficult. With a tilt of his head, he asked Justine and Bridgit, “Would you ladies like to join us?”

Bridgit laughed lightly. She was in her late thirties, and her personality reminded Odessa of Grams. “No, no, we don’t want to intrude,” she grinned teasingly, shooting both of them a knowing look. Odessa wished she could present herself as unaffected as Calum, who merely chuckled along, not showing any signs of fluster like Odessa probably was. “We’re just going to pick up some coffees before heading to the ice rink. You two should check it out, too.”

Odessa may not be able to snowboard or ski, but ice skating was something she was capable of. She had gone through a rollerblading phase when she was fifteen, and holiday trip to New York once had proved that she was able to ice skate, too. “Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” she replied without much thought, offering the two other teachers a smile.

The two women smiled before Justine said, “Alright, well we’ll let you get back to it—enjoy your meals, you two.”

There was a glint in her eyes, aligning perfectly with the teasing tilt in her voice that had the warmth in Odessa’s cheeks reheating. She had a good idea of what the two women were thinking, their implications not at all lost on Odessa, and she wondered if the universe used the people around her as a conduit to fluster her nerves when it came to Calum. At this point, too many people have teased or alluded to the concept of Odessa and Calum being something more than friends, colleagues. It didn’t help in easing her mind.

Once Justine and Bridgit left, leaving just her and Calum, she tried to push aside any awkwardness by biting into her panini. And while Calum paid attention to his food, Odessa had kind of hoped their previous conversation was forgotten. Until he spoke up once more. “What did you mean?” he asked carefully. She glanced to see him watching her after he swallowed a bite of his sandwich. “You said yes and no—what’d you mean?”

Odessa hesitated, lips parting as she thought of a proper, worthy answer. Calum was patient. She let out a breath and offered the best she could, “I mean yes, I figured out what I was working through but I’m, uh, not sure yet how I wanna move forward with it. If. . . That makes sense,” she finished, shooting him a somewhat apologetic look. It was another vague answer, she knew, but there wasn’t really any other way for Odessa to tell Calum without telling him. And it wasn’t the right time for it—if there ever would be one.

Calum eyed her momentarily, his gaze as intense and warm as ever, before his features softened and he nodded. He seemed to accept her answer, not that it was much of one, and Odessa appreciated it more than he would know. He wasn’t pushing her, even though he deserved to know; she knew he did. She’d been the one pushing him away, creating distance between them without so much as a warning. Calum did nothing wrong. He was unknowingly caught in a situation he was oblivious to, and Odessa was trying her hardest to untangle all of them out of it on her own.

“How are midterm preparations going?” Odessa then chose to ask, wanting to steer the conversation away from herself. Midterms were being held in the coming week, and Odessa had spent the last few days coming up with exams for her freshman and sophomore classes that wouldn’t drive them too hard into the ground.

“Good,” Calum answered with a nod after sipping his drink. “Exam’s ready—just hopin’ my kids are, too.”

Odessa cracked a smile. “Same here,” she said, catching sight of a child running down the street, an excitable grin on her face as she pointed towards a souvenir shop opposite of the café, waiting for her parents to catch up to her. Looking back at Calum, Odessa continued, “I spent half an hour debating if I should have a multiple choice section before deciding against it. I hated them when I took tests—I’m not putting my kids under the stress of second guessing their answer.”

Calum quirked an eyebrow. “That is, if they didn’t study well.”

“Not necessarily,” she pointed out. “I have some students who know all the material but they don’t test well. Multiple choice questions certainly don’t help those types.”

He tilted his head, curiosity sparking his dark eyes as he gazed at her. “You don’t think the challenge will help them in the long run? Not every teacher’s going to be as considerate as you, Essa.”

The nickname had her heart skipping a beat, but Odessa willed herself to relax, not to get too ahead of herself. Still—it was a struggle to fight the smile from tilting her lips. Her name, any variation of it, sounded so nice from Calum’s lips. “Maybe, maybe not,” Odessa shrugged, letting out a light chuckle. “There’s plenty of other teachers who can throw them off with multiple choices. I’d rather read the responses in their own words in open ended questions.”

Calum nodded, seeing the reasoning in her answer. “You can tell by that how much they know more clearly—yeah, I agree.”

Odessa flashed him a grin, feeling more at ease as the minutes passed by. “Plus, I’m too lazy to come up with wrong answers.”

He snorted as he picked up his glass of ginger ale. “I hear that.”

She could see his smile that he didn’t try to hide behind the glass, and Odessa didn’t really try to get rid of hers as she bit into the panini. Saying that she missed this, the ease of conversation and Calum’s company, would be an understatement. Depriving herself of Calum’s friendship in the past few weeks had been such an idiotic decision on her part, no matter how many times she told herself it was the right thing to do. Even though she had believed it somewhat, at the time, it now felt like an utterly moronic choice she wouldn’t be making again. Calum and their friendship meant more to Odessa than Paige’s territorial feelings and passive-aggressive comments.

Their lunch, much to Odessa’s pleasure, passed by comfortably, with conversation flowing easily without drudging up Odessa’s dumb distancing decisions over the past few weeks. The comfort Odessa felt with Calum had returned, despite her ever present thoughts lingering in the back of her head, and she couldn’t help but chastise herself for thinking separating herself from him was ever a good idea. For too long she had been putting Paige’s warnings above her own feelings, and with the help of the sight of Calum sitting across from her, grinning that bright smile, Odessa understood it was about time that changed.

*****

The ice rink wasn’t as busy as Odessa had expected it to be. She still had yet to venture onto the ice, the skates already tied securely on her feet, but she stood just outside of the rink, looking in through the transparent screen as a few people skated around. Music was playing throughout the arena, and from the two handfuls of people that were there, only a couple were students from the school.

It wasn’t that late in the day, barely five-thirty. The dinner scheduled for students and the chaperones wasn’t until seven, so Odessa had plenty of time to enjoy the rink for now. But before she could step onto the ice, Calum’s voice suddenly sounded to her right. “Are you gonna skate or stare?”

She let out a light laugh as she glanced at him, noting the small smile playing on his lips, hoodie pulled over his beanie. He looked so warm. After their lunch, they’d walked around the little village for a bit before separating; he’d gone to ski and after telling him she wasn’t risking an injury by joining him, Odessa had headed to her hotel room for a nap. She’d woken up earlier than usual that day, and the cold weather only added onto the sleepiness that had crept on her.

“No need to be pushy,” she responded teasingly before stepping forward. Odessa found her footing easily, the blades sliding against the ice as she moved, Calum stepping on right behind her.

“Oh, Jesus—fuck.” Odessa’s eyebrows shot up as she turned around, feeling an amused smile tilt at her lips as she watched Calum right himself, letting out a huff as he found his balance.

With a curious tilt of her head, Odessa asked, “You do know how to skate, right?” He knew how to ski—skating should be a piece of cake, shouldn’t it?

“Yes,” Calum responded instantly, putting a pointed stress on the word as he skated to come up next to her. “Just needed to find my balance.”

It was comical that as soon as he said that, his body tipped forward, feet threatening to give out under him. Odessa’s eyes widened and she instantly grabbed his hand, gloved fingers wrapping around his without much thought. She didn’t dismiss the jump of her heart when Calum tightened his grip, a small yet grateful smile lifting his lips as she tried not to dwell on the pinkness of his cheeks and nose because of the cold. Odessa’s throat dried, the music playing in the rink being drowned out by the notion of Calum having no intention of letting her hand go becoming prominent, and she slowly pulled him along.

Neither dwelled on the glaring fact that Calum, who could ski and play soccer, didn’t really need Odessa to keep holding his hand as they skated. But he hadn’t let go, and Odessa sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to loosen her grip. So they skated on, the arena echoing with music playing and the chatter of others around them, mixing in with the blades gliding along the ice. Despite that, Odessa didn’t want there to be any silence between them, even though it was often comfortable; there had been enough unwilling silence existing between the two of them lately because of her and she wanted to fill it. Talking to Calum was too relaxing and effortless to deprive herself of.

“How was skiing?” she casually asked as they started their second lap around the rink, side by side.

“Not too bad,” Calum responded with a raspy chuckle. “Took me a minute to get used to.”

Odessa shot him a playful smile, raising an eyebrow as she asked, “Like skating?”

He returned her smile with a boyish smirk, the kind that flipped her heart, as he smoothly responded, “Something like that—except you weren’t there to hold my hand on the slopes.”

The warmth flooded Odessa’s cheeks at his words, surprised that she didn’t slip because of the shock they greeted her with. She hoped the coldness of where they were would present itself as reason enough for the harsh pinkness in her cheeks. Odessa had no idea if Calum was just joking around with her or if he meant what he said; his smirk remained, but there was a hint of something other than playfulness in the dark of his eyes as he watched her that only warmed her even more.

Her throat worked, looking ahead once more as they skated on, and Odessa let out a gentle, short laugh as she forced herself to respond, “I don’t think that would’ve made skiing any easier.”

“Maybe,” Calum hummed thoughtfully, fingers still interlocked with hers. She only embraced the knowledge of it once more when he gave a squeeze to her hand. “But I would’ve welcomed it anyway.”

He’s flirting with me. The thought screamed through Odessa’s mind, manifesting itself in the lump that formed in her dry throat, skin firing up even more. She knew he was; she could hear it in the quietened way he spoke, words tilting with hesitantly alluring tone. Like he couldn’t help himself to say innocently suggestive things, but was unsure if she would welcome them or not. But Odessa did—she very much did. Now that she was aware of her feelings for Calum, his flirtations that crossed the line of friendship Odessa had failed to establish—not that she minded—were words that made her heart race and in excitement and had the knots of anxiety tightening her stomach loosen and disappear.

Safe. Comfortable. Calum’s made her feel those things from the moment she met him—more so than anyone else she’s met that wasn’t her immediate family.

“Odessa.” She let out a barely-heard startled gasp as Calum forced them to a stop towards the side, out of the way of those skating around. He stood in front of her, tall body towering over hers, dark eyes meeting her widened blue. “I know it’s none of my business—but what happened? You kind of just. . . Stopped talking to me and, I gotta tell you, I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Calum,” Odessa instantly replied without much thought. She couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking it was his fault, despite coming to the uncomfortable realization he most likely thought just that over the time she tried to put distance between them. Her nerves crept back, but Calum’s presence didn’t allow them to take over her. “I was just confused.”

Calum’s throat worked. “About what?” he implored, a gentleness in his voice not lost in the buzzing rink. It was already beginning to feel like it was just the two of them, nobody around to disturb them, as Calum kept Odessa grounded. His gaze, intense as always, was warm and encouraging, softer than what Odessa felt like she deserved.

She looked up at him, took in the pinkness of his cheeks and nose because of the cold, the blonde hair peeking out from under his beanie, the stubble on his chin and jaw. Odessa felt as though every detail of his appearance was engrained in her mind, the sight of him so achingly familiar. A warm light guiding her closer and closer to the truth until the words were slipping past her lips without much thought.

“How I feel.” Odessa didn’t particularly think to elaborate on that, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep up, mixing in with the nerves of finally, finally, finally telling Calum how she felt. Voicing it would make it feel more real than it already was, but Odessa just needed to get out of her head. Since she met him, Calum never made Odessa feel as though she should be embarrassed about anything—if she ever was, it was because on her accord. But as he stood in front of her, patient and, dare she say it, hopeful, she allowed herself to add in a somewhat wavering tone, “About you. Us.”

“Us?” Calum repeated, and was that hope settling in his features?

Odessa swallowed, heart jumping as he kept his gaze purposefully locked on hers. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Calum’s eyes had her trapped and she wasn’t too keen on escaping. “I realized how lucky I am to have you as a friend,” she carefully started, her voice quiet, gentle. Was she imagining the way they seemed to be drawing close to one another? She was trying hard not to let her gaze drop from his eyes to his lips, no matter how inviting they looked. “And I’m just. . . Not sure how far that luck goes.”

She was being annoyingly cryptic, she knew, but Odessa had a feeling Calum knew exactly where she was going with this.

If anything, the way he let out a short breath through curling lips before closing the gap between them was pretty solid of an answer.

Odessa leaned into Calum immediately, her surprised gasp silenced with his lips meeting hers in a kiss so warm, so thrilling, that it allowed her body to feel shivers down her spine and heat spreading throughout her skin all at once. It was unexpected, but the shock wore off quickly as her free hand—the one that wasn’t still holding onto his—reached up to rest on the back of his neck, lips moving with his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt like it was.

There were no butterflies or fireworks, but a wave of calmness that blanketed itself over Odessa as Calum kissed her, feeling his arm wrap around her waist to keep her close, a warmth spreading through her. His stubble tickled at her skin and his head tilted ever so slightly to deepen the kiss, the sensation of his tongue languidly meeting hers sending another thrill down her spine. Odessa was deaf to her surroundings, uncaring of anyone or anything around her, her focus solely on Calum and the way he kissed her. Like he’d been wanting to do it for as long as she did. It was better than Odessa could have ever imagined, the taste of mint dancing against her lips, mixing in with his familiar cologne enveloping her.

They pulled away too quickly in Odessa’s opinion, eyes still shut as her mind reeled from the kiss, not even realizing she was subtly chasing Calum’s lips with her own until she heard him let out a soft chuckle. His warm breath tickled her, his forehead resting against hers, and Odessa pressed her teeth together to ground herself. Holy shit. As far as kisses go, Odessa wanted this one to be her last first kiss.

“I’d say your luck goes pretty far,” Calum spoke, a teasing tone in his raspy voice.

His words had Odessa letting out a breathless laugh despite her entranced state, opening her eyes to catch sight of his deep brown ones. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the way he was looking at her; soft, warm, delicate. A small smile played on the corners of his lips, a boyish smirk, yet his eyes gave away to the gentleness she knew he possessed. Had the pinkness in his cheeks darkened? Odessa was sure hers had.

Her hand dropped from his neck, but her fingers caught the drawstrings of Calum’s hoodie, playing with them as she found herself reluctantly asking, “You don’t think this complicates things?” She lifted her gaze to meet his, almost shyly. “We work together—”

“There’s no rule against that, Essa,” Calum reminded her gently. He then ducked his head, maintaining her gaze, raising his eyebrows almost knowingly as he added, “Unless there’s something else that’s holding you back from figuring out what this is.”

Odessa rolled her lips into her mouth, throat tightening momentarily as Paige’s face involuntarily flashed through her mind. Her fingers absently tightened their grip on the drawstrings of Calum’s hoodie she was playing with, looking away from him as a frustrated frown knitted at her eyebrows. Hadn’t she told herself she wouldn’t care about this anymore? That she wouldn’t put Paige, who clearly didn’t give a shit about Odessa, and her feelings above her own? Calum kissed her—and he obviously wanted to pursue something with her. Why was Odessa unwillingly finding reasons to not let him lead her in the right direction?

“Is it because of Paige?” Odessa’s eyes widened almost comically at Calum’s question, looking at him in surprise, taken aback at how he reached that conclusion so quickly. He was an observant guy, Odessa knew, but still—how had he picked up on that? Noting the disbelief in Odessa’s face, Calum offered a small smile, letting out a breath as he confessed, “Luke told me.”

Odessa’s expression dropped into a flat one, unimpressed at their friend’s inability to keep things to himself. But, honestly, Odessa wasn’t mad at Luke; him telling Calum what had been weighing so heavily on Odessa made things easier for her. It was probably cowardly of her, but Luke did her a favor, saved her some awkwardness, and she was grateful for it.

“Odessa,” Calum spoke up, broad shoulders squared and staring down at her pointedly. She did her best to focus attentively, warning herself not to get lost in the dark of his eyes. “You gotta know that Paige and I were never serious—it shouldn’t’ve happened in the first place, but I can’t change that.” Odessa’s heart jumped at his words, his admittance of not wanting to pursue anything with Paige feeling like a weight off of Odessa’s shoulders she didn’t know she needed, a relief she’d been silently craving for longer than she’d like to admit.

She parted her lips, hoping the skates on her feet would keep her steady, oblivious to the world around her as she quietly asked, “What’re you saying?”

The corner of Calum’s lips curled up softly, far too handsome, and Odessa was overcome with the urge to kiss him again. But she kept herself still, waiting for his answer. “I’m saying,” he started with a short chuckle, “that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment I met you. And—” his smile widened, a playful tilt, “—being your work-husband isn’t enough.”

“You’re not proposing to me, are you?” Odessa cut in, unable to help the joke from slipping past her lips despite the anticipation tickling her stomach. She couldn’t stop herself—it was effortless when it came to Calum.

He let out a laugh at her question, the sight of his smile bringing on her own, especially at the light dancing in his eyes. With a quirk of an eyebrow, Calum pointed out, “I think I have to take you out on a date first.”

Before Odessa could respond, the excitement tickling her nerves, a shouting voice echoed throughout the rink, “Oh shit, Coach and Ms. Kline! I knew it!”

Her eyes widened in surprise, Calum’s eyebrows shooting up as they leaned away from one another and looked over. Odessa pursed her lips, fighting the sheepish grin from tilting at her mouth when she saw a couple students, mostly boys from the soccer team, towards the middle of the rink as they comically cheered their two teachers on. Heat pooled in Odessa’s cheeks as she saw the few boys and girls looking at them in teasing excitement, and suddenly Odessa herself felt like she was a teenager as she subtly slid back from Calum.

His hand was still gripping hers though as she peeked a look at him. His eyes were light with mirth, though he wasn’t going to give the kids the satisfaction as he shot them a look. Odessa wondered if they could see the subtle smirk on his face from where they stood. “Keep it movin’, kids. Nothing to see here,” he called back to them, waving them off with their free hand. Standing tall, he added, “Go on before I make you skate laps.”

One of the kids from the team, Frankie, puffed his chest out and hollered, “We’re on vacation! You can’t make us, Coach.”

Calum skated forward a bit, eyebrows raising and a challenging gleam in his eyes that had Odessa biting back a smile. “Wanna bet?”

And with a cacophony of “Sorry, Coach”, the boys and their friends were skating away, though Odessa wasn’t oblivious to the way they glanced back over their shoulders. It was amusing, if she was being honest, looking back at Calum as he skated to stand in front of her. He cracked a smile, letting out a silent breath. “Maybe I can take you out when there aren’t any kids around.”

She laughed, a flutter in her chest. “Sounds good to me.”

And even though there were a couple of students in the rink, their interest in their two teachers amusing, it didn’t stop Calum from tightening his grip on Odessa’s hand before they continued skating. Odessa couldn’t stop foolishly smiling, cheeks soon beginning to hurt, but she didn’t care. For the first time, she allowed herself to give into her feelings without a care for anyone else.

*****

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but were you and Calum on a little date earlier today?”

Odessa pressed her lips together as she forced down her sip of wine, widened eyes meeting Justine Greggs’ impish grin. Her fellow teacher had a knowing spark in her dark eyes, and Odessa felt heat creep up her neck as she put the glass down. “I—no, no. It wasn’t a date,” she told her with an embarrassed laugh which only served to make it seem like Odessa was lying—which she wasn’t. That was not a date. “We were just having lunch together, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Justine hummed, not at all convinced as her lip curled while she took a sip of her wine as well. With a tilt of her head, she asked, “Then how come I’m hearing whispers among the students that a couple of them caught you two being close at the ice rink?”

“Oh, my God,” Odessa’s jaw dropped, gaping at Justine as she leaned forward. The two of them had been sitting the bar in the resort as it neared eleven at night, just a few people around. In a whisper, Odessa asked, “Are Calum and I on the rumor mill now?”

Her coworker smiled in amusement. “You two are the only focus of the rumor mill,” she informed Odessa, whose skin fired up even more.

She felt embarrassed, almost shrinking into herself as she told Justine, “I’m so sorry about that—we definitely should’ve been more careful about students seeing us—”

“Odessa, please, you’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Justine laughed lightly, waving the younger woman off. Odessa quietened, her nerves still playing on her features as she mentally berated herself. She hadn’t thought about it much at the time, too blissed out on Calum’s kiss and the confessions murmured in the rink, but now when she thought about it, she had noticed some of the looks she’d been receiving during the dinner earlier. All from students looking far too excited and as if they’d stumbled upon a big secret. They might as well have. “You and Calum are two grown adults with your own lives. There’s no rule preventing you two from being in a relationship.”

Odessa pressed her lips together in a small yet grateful smile, the blush still heavy in her cheeks as she sipped her drink. There may not have been a rule at the school keeping her and Calum from being together, but there had been an unspoken one that had nestled in Odessa’s mind for so long, all thanks to Paige. Now, though, it was being etched out of her mind for good, and as it went, so did the tension tightening Odessa’s chest.

“Speak of the devil.” Odessa’s head snapped up at Justine’s words, noting that she was looking past Odessa’s shoulder with a small smirk.

Odessa turned around in her stool, feeling a smile tilt at her lips as she caught Calum walking into the bar, feeling a nostalgic sense of déjà vu wash over her as she remembered the first time she saw him; Mrs. Brewer had uttered the same words when Calum entered the teacher’s lounge on Odessa’s first day of work.

His gaze met hers right away, a smile playing on his lips as he approached where she sat, his walk as confident as his smile quiet. He still wore his clothes from today, minus the jacket and beanie, a sight Odessa never would tire of.

“Evenin’, ladies,” he greeted despite it being way past the time for it to be considered the evening, waving down the bartender. “Mind if I join you?”

“You can keep Odessa company,” Justine said as she got up, her glass now empty. She smiled at the two of them, the knowing look too bright in her eyes as she paid. “I’m going to head to my room for the night.”

She left, leaving just Odessa and Calum at the bar as he ordered a beer for himself, spinning in the stool so he was facing her. “Did you hear?” he started, a ghost of a smirk tilting at his lips. “We’re the hottest topic in high school gossip today.”

Odessa let out a short laugh, eyebrows raising as she nodded, looking down at her nearly empty glass of wine. “Yeah—the kids aren’t that subtle about it.”

“No, they aren’t,” Calum agreed with a deep chuckle, nodding thanks to the bartender as the bottle of beer was placed in front of him. Lifting the bottle to his lips, Calum scoffed, “I haven’t been high school gossip since I was seventeen and streaked across the football field.”

A startled laugh escaped Odessa, blue eyes dancing in amusement as she stared at Calum in surprise, and he merely smiled boyishly as he sipped his drink. “Are you serious?” she asked with a laugh, facing him in disbelief.

He offered a shrug, not too apologetic about it. “Michael dared me. I couldn’t back down from it.”

Odessa rolled her eyes though she was still laughing, licking her lips before musing, “Of course you couldn’t.” When her laughter died down, Odessa took a breath and glanced at Calum, voice quieting as she asked, “Seriously, though—you don’t feel awkward about it?”

“Not really, no,” Calum answered with a shake of his head. He smiled, then, small and subtle, before adding, “It’s not anything I haven’t heard from my players.”

Her gaze darted to him as she drank her wine, eyebrows shooting up as she lowered the glass, swallowed the sip, before sputtering, “What do you mean?”

Calum faced her once more, right elbow resting on the bar top, chin lifting as his smile remained playing on the corners of his lips. The amusement danced in his dark eyes under the dim yellow lighting of the bar, features softened in the glow as Odessa peered up at him. “All the boys have mouths on ’em. They aren’t shy about teasing me ’bout you.”

“Teasing you about me?” Odessa repeated, the disbelief thick in her tone. She was having a hard time processing that this was even a conversation Calum had with his soccer players—on more than one occasion, so it seemed. She was amused and embarrassed and curious all at once as the heat remained pooling in her cheeks. When it came to Calum, Odessa might as well be a middle school girl with a crush. “What do they even say?”

“The most reoccurring?” Calum hummed, leaning towards Odessa just a bit, instantly making her oblivious to her surroundings. It wasn’t like there were that many people in the resort’s bar anyway, but as soon as Calum neared her, there might as well have been none. She noted the sweep of his eyelashes as he gazed at her, eyes briefly flickering to her lips before brown eyes met blue, her heart fluttering excitedly. “They kept telling their coach to do everyone a favor and ask you out.”

Odessa rolled her lips into her mouth, tasting the wine she’d been drinking, her left elbow propped up on the bar as she, too, faced Calum. The way he was looking right back at her—his gaze was never something Odessa felt like she would get used to, like he was taking in every part of her, committing her to memory. Her own voice lowered, pointing out softly, “You already did that.”

“I did,” Calum replied, smiling boyishly, his knee brushing against hers. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Right after I kissed you.” Odessa hummed an affirmative, feeling as though something was pulling her closer to him. She found herself desperately wanting to close the space between them. “Which is something I should’ve done a lot sooner. But—” Odessa’s eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly, not even at her own accord, too lost in Calum and the gap between them closing. They’d already kissed in public once—what was a second time? Her gaze dropped to his lips, soft and full and pink, made to be kissed. She saw the corner of his mouth comply with a ghost of a smirk, voice low as he finished, “You were worth the wait.”

Odessa felt her neck tense as her throat tightened, Calum’s dangerously sweet words sending a thrill down her spine she did her best in hiding. The effect he had on her wasn’t one she’d ever experienced before—it wasn’t one she wanted to go without anymore, either.

They didn’t kiss then, like both of them so desperately wanted to do. Instead, a mutual yet silent agreement passed between them and they pulled away, sitting up in their stools, sipping their drinks as they let the conversation take a natural turn over towards something less enticing.

Odessa ran her finger around the rim of her glass, aware of Calum’s gaze on her, as a thought crept into her head. With a slight furrow of her eyebrows, she asked slowly, “What exactly did Luke tell you? About. . . The Paige thing?”

There was a subtle change in Calum’s features, a resignation as his cheeks puffed slightly with a sharp exhale. “Nothing that surprised me,” he told her truthfully. His gaze met Odessa’s. “Luke knows how I feel about you and he may have admitted that there was a chance you felt the same.” He cracked a knowing grin at Odessa rolling her eyes, muttering under her breath about Luke being unable to keep his mouth shut. Not that she was truly annoyed with him. Calum’s smile faltered a bit then. “But you weren’t going to do anything about it because Paige more or less told you to back off—which she had no right doing, by the way.”

Odessa scoffed, eyebrows raising. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Listen, Odessa,” Calum sighed, facing her with a pointed look on his face. “Do you want me to talk to her when we get back?”

She paused for a moment, considering his offer. If Odessa was being honest, the less interactions she had with Paige, the better—though, she wasn’t sure how that would be possible, given their friend group is the same. But sooner or later, Odessa would have to confront Paige herself, especially now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Calum and realizing it wasn’t just some passing crush.

“Don’t talk to her on my behalf,” she decided. “I have to talk things out with her myself.”

Calum nodded, accepting her reasoning. “Fair enough,” he murmured before taking a sip of his beer. “I’m gonna have to talk to her myself anyway—set the record straight about where she and I stand.” He then glanced at Odessa, lips curling into a boyish smirk as he added, “Especially if I wanna make things work with you.”

Her cheeks were aflame once again, yet Odessa didn’t mind one bit as a shy yet thrilled smile curled at her lips, already aching her cheeks as she ducked her head. Calum chuckled quietly at her reaction. He had a way with words, which wasn’t surprising given his profession, and he used it to his advantage to render Odessa speechless. She could only hope to get him back for it one day.

Once they finished their drinks, it was nearing midnight, and given that it was their first day at Big Bear, it would serve them better to go to bed. So they paid for their drinks and headed out of the bar and towards the elevators, the resort a lot quieter this time of night than earlier in the day. There was a comfortable silence between Calum and Odessa as they rode the elevator to their floor, and as they stood next to one another, Odessa had the foolish feeling of stretching her left pinky out just so to wrap around Calum’s. But she didn’t. Instead she just glanced at him from the corner of her eye, peering up at the much taller figure to her left, fighting off her grin when she saw his own lips twitching into a knowing smile.

She was giddy. Relieved. The tension that had been weighing her down disappeared in a matter of a day, and keeping a smile off her face wasn’t too possible.

The elevator doors slid open and Calum waited for her to step out first before they walked down the empty carpeted hall. They’d already checked in with their students earlier that night. Odessa’s hotel room came before Calum’s, since he was just two doors down, and as she pulled out her key card, he stood with his hands shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie, gaze on hers.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then?” Calum said just as Odessa’s door clicked open after she used the card.

She stood in the doorway, gripping the door handle tight as she peered up at Calum. There was a fighting urge to invite Calum inside, to continue the kiss that hadn’t lasted long enough back at the ice rink. And the way his brown eyes were peering at her, soft yet alluring, gave Odessa the feeling that Calum wanted to come into her room just as badly as she wanted him to. But he wouldn’t, not unless she said so, and as badly as Odessa wanted to, she shouldn’t. It would be inappropriate, wouldn’t it? While they were on a field trip with students and other teachers?

Having morals sucked. More so lately than usual.

So she smiled, leaning against the door she kept open reluctantly. “Yeah,” Odessa answered, almost breathlessly, with a nod. “In the morning.”

Calum nodded, a muscle in his jaw jumping momentarily, a subtle smile playing on his lips. Something silent passed between them as his eyes remained on her blue, and Odessa’s throat tightened. Calum lifted his chin. “Goodnight, Essa.”

Shit, she didn’t want him to go. “Goodnight, Calum.”

With one last smile, Calum turned to go, and Odessa stepped back to shut the door instead of watching him leave. She squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned her back against the door, head tilted back to face the ceiling, and her nose scrunched as she battled with herself. The moral side of her was telling her she did the right thing; inviting Calum inside wouldn’t be a good idea, for no reason other than it wouldn’t entirely be the responsible chaperone thing to do.

But another part—a much larger part—was reminding Odessa that she had waited long enough. Keeping herself away from Calum—hadn’t it lasted for too long already? Now that her feelings were out there, along with his, there technically wasn’t anything stopping either of them from pursuing what they were feeling. How many more excuses would Odessa dig up to keep herself from being happy? Why was she constantly doing that? She deserved more, didn’t she?

She bit her lower lip, eyebrows scrunching together above closed eyes. Odessa wasn’t a selfish person, and in this situation, she wasn’t even being selfish to anyone but herself. That had to come to an end; sooner—now—rather than later.

Her eyes opened, staring into her empty hotel room, and a deep breath escaped her as she made her mind up. Heart doing an excited flip in her chest, Odessa pushed herself away from the door, gripping the handle, and pulled it open quickly. Only for her breath to catch in her throat when she saw Calum still standing there, hand raised halfway as if he was about to knock on the door.

Odessa stared at him with startled eyes, only able to hear the escalating beat of her heart, as Calum stared right back, lips parting yet nothing coming out. A beat of silence passed between them, both taking in the sight of the other, and just as quickly, they met in the middle.

Calum’s lips found Odessa’s in a swift, desperate kiss, hands gripping her face as her own pulled him closer by gripping his sweatshirt, allowing him to push her into the room as she kissed him back just as fervently. His touch was warm, kisses hinting of beer and electrifying, and stubble scratching at her deliciously. Calum kicked the door shut behind him, the slam of the door drowned out by Odessa’s racing heart, and not a thing mattered except for the man who once again kissed her like his life depended on it.

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @loveroflrh @astroashtonio @softforcal @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @malumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @tpwkcal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @wildflowergrae @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @notinthesameguey @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann @talkfastromance4 @calumftduke @musichoney @treatallwithkindness @partlysunnycal @dead-and-golden @kaeleykaeley @harrys-sun-flower @br-hoe

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minnochu · 4 years

Text

Lustrous (pt. 21)

Hybrid!Kook x f!Reader au

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19 | Pt 20 | Pt 21

Warning: Death and violence

(A/n): Cue more anticlimactic action <3 If you didn’t know, I’m going on a hiatus after this update to focus on this semester because it’s important to me, so hang tight! Much love for all the support and love as always <3

“I was getting a little bored you know? Especially when you just refused to be killed!”

The voice you’ve only ever heard in your dreams and memories, chilling and patronizing. It holds your attention captive, almost like a sweet lullaby.

Long ivory hair falling in waves, bright and healthy, a contrast to the dull darkness of her eyes. Irises like black holes, and yet they captivate any who look her straight in the eye. An enrapturing smile, and yet her expression seemed to look both angelic and condescending at the same time.

You don’t recognize the room you’re in, you were never allowed in the same room as Eris after your innate magic never manifested and you were deemed a mutant. If your mother was called for an audience with the head, she would always leave you outside her living quarters. If there were important assemblies or such, you were never allowed into the grand hall. You assumed you were blinked to the latter, daring to raise your head to eye the woman seated on the throne.

The manor never did scream dark-magic-is-practiced-here! It was more like a household worthy of angels or goddesses, if the latter existed. You held no doubt if anything and everything seemed to coexist in the human world now.

One would have expected her throne to be made of the bones of humans and animals that she sacrificed when a spell called for it, or the skulls of birds she devoured to reverse the expiration of her aging body. It was, however, an elegant throne, carved mahogany gilded with ivory just as beautiful as her silvery tresses. Seated atop a platform, the witch sat with one pale leg crossed over the other. She held herself with dignity and poise, her chin raised and eyes set downwards in a mocking way. Eris dressed herself like a queen, silky robes with a long train that lay in folds at her bare feet.

She regarded you with a hardened look, pressing her chin into her knuckles as you picked yourself up and stood. Dusting your uniform skirt off, you perk and regard the man standing at her side with nostalgia. Hickory hair, messy and falling over his eyes. His jaw tightened at your gaze, although his own seemed to focus just above your head. You wondered why. Was he suddenly feeling guilty for betraying his lover, your mother, and now having to face you and kill you soon? Maybe he was just ignoring your existence.

“It’s been quite a long time (F/n), tell me, how’s your mother doing?” Eris bemuses.

You scoff at that.

“Amazing, no thanks to you,” You spit back before shrugging, “I guess you’re getting a little old, your senile is showing, head witch.”

Dark eyes narrowed at your response.

“I see you’ve developed a rather sour mannerism, I don’t quite remember Minerva being that bratty. Was it that mutt who taught you that?”

“I’d like to call it the hard truth, old lady,” You continue, watching as she bristles at the name.

“Killing you is going to be so worthwhile,” She grits, eyes burning with annoyance, “I’ll make your annoying voice screech pitifully when I torture you just a little bit.”

The elder barely twitches and you sense the murderous intent only briefly as thorns emerge in tumultuous waves from the floor. You quickly flash your hand to create a glowing cube around your form to protect yourself from the crystals.

“Humor me a little, why don’t you (F/n)? It’s been years since your family’s seen you! Why not greet them instead of being so rude?” You hear Eris say as you degenerate the shield.

You waver momentarily when you find yourself surrounded by your old coven members; grown up faces of children you had once knew to bully you when you still lived in the manor, familiar elders who had looked at you and your mother with pity and disgust didn’t seem to age as much. They all held that familiar glare of contempt at your existence, some holding staves in their hands to control the conjuring of their spells.

Did you even have enough magic stored in your amulet to take on this many witches and warlocks? You can’t even remember the last time you siphoned from Jungkook or the others. For some reason, the former only ever allowed you to siphon from him. You weren’t sure why, but you often grew worried that it was draining for him to constantly be sucked of magical energy every so often. (Yoongi only ever laughed when you expressed your worry and reassured you he had plenty of magic left.)

Left and right, you raise crystalline shields, a purple hue emitting a dark aura, as you protect yourself from attacks from the others. You can barely get much of a hit when facing multiple threats from all around you. As you dodge and counter magical spells and skills, you catch the infuriating smirk on Eris’ expression.

She’s laughing at your predicament. She knows you’re bound to run out of magical source, and you can barely manage to siphon any from the other witches when they make an effort to keep their distance. There’s a greater number of them and only one of you, multiple attacks left you vulnerable if you tried to focus too hard on getting into someone’s close quarters and siphon their magic.

You’d have to thank Jungkook later, if you survived, for giving it to you hard. The weight of the magical projectiles, on the translucent layer of protection covering your body, didn’t seem to hurt no better than the wolf’s punches.

Pivoting on your heels, you nimbly dodge a thorn shot from the right of you, however another zipping by from behind nicks you on your side. Your uniform tears from the cut, blood seeping from the superficial wound on your torso.

You weren’t one for stamina, even if Seokjin sometimes made you run laps in the forest, but constantly having to run and dodge was wearing down your legs. You were starting to feel winded and you can sense your stone depleting rapidly.

Perspiration creates a sheen on your forehead, a bead rolling down your temple.

Survive? Was it possible to survive this alone? Would Jungkook come? The pack? Would they be able to find you?

You blew a cherry.

That was pathetic, to rely on them so much.

If you didn’t survive, you’d never hear what Jungkook wanted to tell you. You’d never be able to see him, or the boys.

The thought makes your heart clench as you dissipate in a flurry of stygian vapor. Reappearing, you make a grab for a witch’s arm from behind, your fingers barely manage to siphon a sliver of magic as you move to dodge another attack. In your state of distraction, the blast of condensed magical energy singes the lateral side of your bicep, burning away at the sleeve of your uniform.

Your chest twists painfully at the thought of no longer being able to wake up to Jungkook, in his large wolf form, curled protectively and warmly around your body. You would no longer sit at the chaos that was breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the pack. You would no longer be able to laugh alongside the three youngest and Hyejin at school. No goofy jokes with Jimin and Taehyung, and Jungkook breathing down their back for whatever reason. No lying on the grassy terrain of the backyard, limbs spread out like a starfish, with Jungkook in same position, after another one of Seokjin’s training sessions. No sitting out on the roof tiles when you go searching for the hybrid wolf, watching the stars alongside him.

Maybe you should’ve confessed sooner, instead of being scared by the idea that Jungkook was fated to someone that wasn’t you. The weight over your chest was becoming unbearable, you wanted to see him one more time and tell him again how he makes you feel safe and at home and how much you like even if he wouldn’t feel the same.

You couldn’t possibly survive this, right?

Were you going to have to resort to killing? They were your kind... but were they your family? Were they there to protect you and pick you back up like Yahiko and the pack? Were they worth sparing when they’ve turned your mother into a puppet? Were they worth letting roam free when they’ve put Yahiko and the boys in danger for being associated with you?

You glanced at Eris, smug as she watches you tire yourself. That meant becoming the people you hated, the same people who loathed you back. You wanted to be better than that, despite the growing rage and contempt building within your chest at your clashing thoughts.

Summoning the last bit of magic from your amulet, the glow of the stone resting on your chest flickering with the last bit of its life before growing dull and cold, multiple needle-like spears formed around you. You willed them in different directions, catching the coven members by their appendages. They weren’t fatally wounded, but you still winced at the thought of possibly killing someone still.

Eris seemed to notice the falter in attacks and defense, barely able to keep on your feet with the remaining coven members.

She snapped her fingers, a curved dagger materializing in her hand. Glossed lips curved deviously as she glanced at the blade.

“I guess I have to get my hands dirty after all, hm Colhen?” Eris sighs dramatically as she rises from her seat, not waiting for a response. Her feet tap on the marble as she steps down from the platform, walking gracefully towards you as you take a blow to your side. Compact, dark energy smashes into you, burning your skin and leaving a darkening, almost black imprint, as you’re thrown off your feet from the impact. You hit your shoulder hard on the marble, wincing at the white hot pain that shoots from the bone.

“I’m getting a little impatient, (F/n), every time I try to kill you… you just can’t seem to fucking die you know? A little annoying don’t you think?” She says, piquing your attention, smirking at the haziness in your weary eyes, barely able to glance up at her, “I meant to torture you, but there’s no fun when I don’t get the satisfaction of seeing that mutt fill with absolute terror and sorrow at your slow death. I’m also an impatient woman after all.”

Brandishing the dagger, she mocks an examination of its metal surface before glancing at you pitifully, “I meant to plant an assassin in the school to kill you with this blade, but I guess I’ll have the honor of killing you myself.”

This is it. You were done for. Was everything all for nothing after all?

Stepping close to your fallen form, the blade glimmers under the light of the chandelier as she raises her arm. You take one last breath, swallowing hard as she brings the edge downward and your eyes squeeze shut in preparation for your impending doom.

You had magic left, there was no protecting what was coming. This really was the end, huh?

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” She demands suddenly.

You don’t realize that you’re still breathing and alive as you open your eyes to Colhen knelt before you, arms stretched out at his sides to protect you. He gazes down at you fondly, relieved that he managed to protect you for just a while longer.

This was the man who your mother had fallen in love with, and the man who walked all over those feelings once it had been announced of your mutation. He held your mother and your existence with distaste. So why was he protecting you now?

“You… but I thought you hated me?” You gaped up at him.

He chuckles softly, “My own daughter? Never.”

There’s a certain warmth that sparks behind those eyes, the same eyes that only ever held disgust when directed at you. His eyes reflect repentance and adoration, regret and absolute love, both emotions that were foreign to you. Colhen never looked at you or your mother in such a way, so why? Why now?

“I made the mistake of hiding behind my own fear of being shunned and facing the reality of my actions... but I never stopped thinking about the beautiful little girl out there that I wish I could’ve protected,” His laugh makes your heart warm, “Allow me to be a proper father just a while longer.”

Eris is bristling behind him, fury burning in her eyes as she clenches her teeth at her husband’s actions.

“You betray me like this Colhen?! For a mutant?!” Eris sneers in disbelief, “Fine. If you dare disobey me like this, see to it that your efforts are in vain.”

Your father’s lips are moving but you can’t hear it, his mouth moving to form the words of a final apology and expression of his love for you. They all fall on deaf ears when you cry out as he looks up only in time to see the large thorn that appears from above, impaling him through his gaping mouth. The spear pierces the back of his throat and lodges into the ground with a thunderous crack of the marble. Smaller spears pierce him through his left eye, one at his hip, another straight through his chest cavity, blood pouring from the wounds as his hands hang limp at his sides.

“How could you!?”

Eris snorts, almost flabbergasted, “How could I? He was dumb to even protect trash like you.”

Long nails, sharp like talons, grip you by the throat, forcing you onto your feet on weak and unstable knees. Your hands fly to her wrists in attempt to siphon from her, but she anticipates this and uses two fingers to rip the necklace from around your neck. She smirks as she lets the amulet fall to your feet before forcing her heel down onto the stone, smashing it.

“A pitiful attempt,” she sneers, “This is the reason why I hate failures like you, you’re no better than thieves trying to use someone else’s magic, you’re weak and useless. There is no place you belong in this world for as long as I live as the head of the Blackwells.”

“Let’s finally put an end to this little charade of cat and mouse, yes?”

The doors to the hall are forced open just she forces the blade into your middle. Jungkook’s eyes wide and flashing gold and aqua in a fit of fury.

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++Omg also @crymesome-rice I forgot to tag you on the last update adjaljkgdl, but here you are, sorry about that!

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

Text

Fic: Tea and Edith 1/1

Title: Tea and Edith 1/1

Pairing: Edith Grayston / Mycroft Holmes (Enola Holmes 2020)

Summary: Mycroft Holmes may have said something he regretted, and as a gentleman, he needed to rectify his wrongs. How understanding will Miss Grayston be?

Rating: Fluff and tea and apologies and sweetness. I guess that’s the answer to the question in the summary.

Notes: I ah... well... I wrote this to indulge in my own pleasures. I know for certain that I was screaming into the void with this one, but hey, I liked it. And if you read it, I hope you like it as well.

Tagging the sweeties who expressed interest :) @athickgirlsblog @october505 @hardcandythinking

Mycroft Holmes was exhausted and all he wanted to do was go home and sulk by the fire with a good stiff brandy. Or two. An evening of silence, reflection and strong liquor was the only thing that could break him out of his self induced dither.

It was late on a Friday evening and the cool autumn rain was busily washing away the smog and fog and filth from the city. Mycroft didn’t particularly enjoy a cold rainy night, but he had to admit that the scent of the clean clear air was a welcome change from the dank scent of the press of bodies and horses and industrial smog. He took in a breath, held it, then let it out thinking about a conversation he’d had with a woman just the night before and he stood there in the blowing rain consumed with guilt because his careless words had offended her.

‘Sir? Are you ready to go?’

The words pulled him from his muse and Mycroft peered up at the hunched man in the Hansom’s driver’s seat.

‘Pardon?’

The driver gave him a curious look.

‘You hailed my cab?’

He had posed it as a question, but the down turn of his voice indicated that he thought the slim man in the trim black frock coat and top hat may have indulged too much at the club and was not in his right frame of mind. But a fare was a fare and he wasn’t going to let the well dressed gentleman get away.

‘Get in, sir, before you catch your death in this rain.’

Mycroft nodded. He had come out onto the road to wave down a cab, and having one there was fortuitous He climbed into the shallow interior and pulled the door closed. It was obvious the previous occupants were not fans of private hygiene and he wrinkled his nose.

The driver asked for his destination and Mycroft gave the address then sat back for the ride.

The city was still alive with people doing God knows what in the evening hours and travel was slow going. Mycroft leaned his heavy head against the padded wall next to the window and closed his eyes, ignoring everything that was going on outside of his own narrow enclosure.

The Hansom suddenly drew up to a jerking stop and the hollow rhythmic clop of horse hooves danced to a halt.

Probably some traffic in the road, Mycroft thought, eyes still closed, but when the cab sat for nearly five additional minutes, he sat forward and used the silver rabbit head walking cane to rap on the window between he and the driver.

‘What’s the hold up?’ he called, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

‘Overturned cart, sir,’ answered the man. ‘Blocking the road.’

‘Oh, for God sake,’ Mycroft grumbled. ‘Can’t you turn round? There are other methods of getting to my destination.’

‘I can do that, sir!’ chirped the man.

He then clicked at his horse who perked up and wheeled round the cab as directed. The cab bobbed away from the obstruction in the road and Mycroft noticed that it was going the long way round and therefore would cost more. He sighed. As long as it got him home, it was bearable.

He idly watched the buildings roll by and after a moment, started to frown. This area they were moving through was beginning to look familiar. Abruptly his heart clenched with panic in his chest, and his mouth was working before his brain engaged enough with his snap decision to talk him out of it.

‘Driver, stop here!’ he shouted and was halfway out of the carriage before it had fully come to a halt.

The driver promptly complained that he had been expecting the full fare (exactly what was promised) to take the gentleman to his original destination. And, that shortening the trip was going to cause a loss in income.

Of course, Mycroft didn’t have to pay full fare, as he was well within in his rights to stop the transport wherever he wished and pay only what the truncated trip required. However, Mycroft relented and paid the man what was originally promised, plus a generous tip. He was not in the mood to fight alone in the middle of a rainy evening on the avenue.

Securing his top hat on his head and grabbing his walking cane, he trotted across the wet street and approached a familiar warmly lighted shop front.

He didn’t know what he was doing there. He didn’t know why he was there in front of her little tea shoppe that smelt of fire-warmed melted chocolate and cinnamon and strong black tea.

No, he thought, unwilling to go along with his own delusions. That wasn’t true.

He knew exactly why he was there.

Through the front glass he could see Edith puttering about, and casually wiping her hands on a small pink towel before she walked towards the door. As she reached to turn the ‘Welcome’ sign to ‘Closed’, she spotted him staring in at her from the street like a ghostly specter.

It took a moment for her to compose herself and when recognition bloomed she scowled. The neatly hand lettered ‘Closed’ sign clattered into place and a small fisted hand came to rest on her hip.

Mycroft felt his cheeks heat beneath her examination. He lifted the silver headed cane and waggled it in greeting.

‘What do you want, Mr. Holmes?’ she asked uncharitably.

I deserve that, he thought. She has no reason to be kind to me.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Grayston!’ he called, hoping to be heard over the night street noise and through the glass. ‘I was hoping to talk with you.’

‘The shoppe is closed, Mr. Holmes,’ she said.

Mycroft glanced at the sign.

‘I know,’ he said, creasing his brow a bit. ‘I know, and I’m sorry to bother you. Please. A moment of your time?’

Edith sighed and for a moment considered letting him conduct his business through the glass, but she had been raised much better than that.

These maddening Holmes men, she thought, unlocking the door and standing aside to let in the elder of the brothers. They will be the absolute death of me.

A thought rose in her mind and Edith immediately dismissed it, knowing that it was her treacherous subconscious trying to unearth what had happened between them the last time they’d butted heads. She pushed down the memory of that sudden lusty heat in his blue eyes, and how hungrily he drank in the sight of her lips in that tense moment after they’d growled near abuse at each other.

What had he come for? More abuse, or to continue what the younger Holmes had so unexpectedly interrupted. She glanced at him and gestured that he follow her into the kitchen.

In the warm kitchen, Mycroft put his hat on the table and leaned his cane against the smooth edge. Edith poured them both a hot steaming cuppa and politely offered the man a seat and a slice of ginger cream cake. He declined the cake, opted to remain standing, but gladly accepted the tea.

Mycroft darted nervous blue eyes round the cosy kitchen. This was definitely a woman’s place, he mused. Edith’s delicate and feminine influence was evident and it strangely comforted him.

She comforted him

Cup still clutched in his damp gloved hands, Mycroft sighed and waiting patiently, Edith sat looking up at him.

He cleared his throat.

‘It’s not that I… hmm no. I’m not…’

He trailed off and frowned, dipping his sharp head to one side so that he would avoid mistakenly looking into her face. Her enchantingly beautiful face.

More silence drifted between them as she watched him struggle with whatever it was he came there to say. If she let him witter on, as he didn’t seem to have a handle on himself, Edith knew that they could be there all night. She was already tired and wanted to go to bed, so she prompted him with a variety of choices.

‘So, you are either here, because you want to … apologise? You are interested in my services for an upcoming tea party? You’re lost?’

Mycroft lifted his head and looked squarely at her. There was a smile toying with her generous mouth and he knew that she was teasing him. At least a little teasing and his spirits lifted slightly.

‘I came to apologise, yes.’

He let out a soft, self-conscious breath and felt relieved when she smiled encouragingly in response. Edith drank her tea and continued to wait, letting her eyes drift over his features, over his elegant moustache, down his chin and over the front of his frock coat. Like his brother, Mycroft was a man of quality. He may have been misguided at times and absolutely block-headed at others, Edith could admit to herself that she enjoyed verbally sparring with him.

Mycroft cleared his throat. Again.

Oh, here we go, the big pronouncement, thought Edith and hid her growing and amused smile behind her cup.

‘I was… I had overstepped my boundaries and offended you. For that I am humbly sorry.’

Edith delicately replaced the cup in the saucer and let him stew for a moment longer as she spooned a bit of cake into her mouth and chewed.

Mycroft looked helplessly at her.

‘Please accept my apology, Miss Grayston.’

She stood after a moment and with hand outstretched, she approached him. An invitation. Mycroft rushed to put down his own cup and whipping off his leather glove, he closed her tiny hand in his, leaned down and kissed the back of her proffered hand.

‘I accept your apology.’

Head still bowed, Mycroft said, ‘Thank you.’

He held her hand for a moment longer, then drew up to his full height, eyes gleaming at her in the lamp light. Edith looked up into his face and then down at the hand still gripping hers.

‘You are still holding my hand, Mr. Holmes.’

Mycroft made a show of peering down at their still joined hands as if his actions were a surprise to him as well, and nodded, looking thoughtful.

‘Hm, it appears that I am.’

‘And do you plan to release me any time soon?’

‘Yes, yes, of course Miss Grayston.’

But, he didn’t. Instead, Mycroft slid his free hand about her waist and easily drew her closer. He relished the stiff feel of her corset beneath her clothes and made a soft noise of appreciation.

Edith reached up, cupped his face and rising on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. Planting both hands on his chest, she gently pushed him away.

‘Now, you know that you have to behave, in order to earn your liberties. Yes?’

Mycroft rubbed his gloved thumb across the back of his own naked hand and nodded like an obedient child.

‘Yes, Mr. Holmes?’ she pressed, biting her lower lip to stop herself from kissing him again.

‘Yes, Miss Grayston. Yes, yes of course.’

Edith picked up his velvety black top hat and cane and presented them both to the elder Holmes.

‘Let me see you home, Miss Grayston.’

‘I’m just next door, you know that.’

Hat still in hand, he made a sweeping gesture towards the kitchen door. Pleased, Edith smiled, and retrieved her coat. The night was foggy and the air smelt of the aftermath of rain.

The walk was short, but nonetheless pleasurable and when she walked up the steps to reach the front door, she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

‘Good night, Mr. Holmes,’ she said opening the front door and walking into the building.

‘Good night, Miss. Grayston.’

-end

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