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starrydixon · 1 year

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Winter Serenity

Era: Pre-Prison Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Word Count: 2k Warnings: grief, description of losing a loved one, mild angst, but mostly comfort-fluff!

Summary: After the farm fell and you had lost your sibling during the fallout, Daryl helps you through your grief one winter morning by a creek in the woods.

A/N: Hello! So, if you feel like you are seeing this fic again, you are not crazy! I had previously posted this fic on my old blog, but want to move it here on my new one so all my works are in one place! Plus, I love this one a lot and just want an excuse to bring it back. Please enjoy!! (ps- I found this gif on Pinterest, so it’s NOT mine! Credit goes to owner!!)

The morning sun rays shone down through the barren tree branches, causing the three day old snow fall that covered the forest floor to glisten, almost as if someone had dumped buckets of glitter onto the ice. The snow crunched under your snow boots that seemed one-size too small while puffs of air fanned out in front of your face with each breath you took. You had found yourself needing some space away from your group, as the stress of living on the road and the endless thoughts that raced through your head was becoming too overwhelming. You hoped that an early morning walk in the woods would help clear your head.

Ever since the farm fell three months ago, living on the road hadn’t been the easiest, especially now that winter had arrived. Before the first snowfall, Rick had warned everyone that he presumed it wouldn’t be an easy winter this season, and he wasn’t wrong. One week later, a snow storm that spanned over two days delivered almost 10 inches of snow. This caused your group to have to take shelter in a nearby barn that, by some miracle, wasn’t infested with walkers.

If having to deal with the winter snow and relearning how to live on the road without the security of food, water, or protection wasn’t enough, you were also dealing with the loss of your sibling. The fall of the barn was chaotic and fast as the herd of walkers broke past the fence and swept through the Greene’s family land, taking over and claiming the space as theirs. You had spent the majority of the time stuck with Rick and Carl, since you caught the young boy trying to sneak out of the farm house to find his father and refused to let him go out in the dark alone.

You had found yourself searching for your sibling's face as everyone began to regroup at the highway. As the Greene family and the Grimes’ reunited, and Daryl and Carol got off of the motorcycle together, your heart sank when your sibling was nowhere to be seen. In a panic, you asked the group if anyone had seen your sibling during the fallout, either escaping in a different direction or being taken by walkers. You hated to even think of the fact that your sibling could have been torn to bits by the mindless, flesh-eating corpses, but you preferred to want to know and have closure than be left wondering if your sibling was still out there somewhere, either alive or turned as a walker.

Unfortunately, it turned out it was the latter, as no one had spotted your sibling during the fall. Against your better judgment, you were adamant on going back to the Greene’s farm and searching for your sibling; Daryl had even offered to take you there on his bike. Rick and the others deemed it a bad idea, as the farm was still dangerously overrun with walkers and they were running low on fuel. After much argument, a compromise was made and the group agreed to stay on the highway for another thirty minutes so you could wait to see if your sibling showed up. This time also allowed the group to strategize on what to do next. To no avail, you tearfully left a note and a map for your sibling to follow if they did end up showing up on the highway before reluctantly leaving the site with the group.

Sighing, you stopped walking through the barren woods and lifted your chin up to the sky. Letting your eyes flutter shut, the warm sun rays hit your cold face, warming up the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks. The only sounds that filled the woods were the chirping of birds and the trickling of water that cascaded down a nearby creek (that surprisingly hadn’t frozen over yet). Opening your eyes and blinking away the brightness, you found yourself gravitating towards the creek in curiosity.

A gentle stream of water flowed over small rocks and sticks that sat in the shallow creek. Spotting a large oak tree that was barren of leaves on its branches resigning beside the creek, you sat down on the snow covered ground and leaned your back against the sturdy trunk. Bringing your jean-clad legs up to your chest, you placed your arms on your knees and watched the water current flow down the creek.

Despite all of the bad that infected the world you were currently living in, this small space in the woods was nothing but peaceful. For a quick moment, you had forgotten that the woods you were currently sitting in had walkers roaming in it, or that the weight of sorrow that sat heavily on your chest was due to the disappearance of your sibling.

That moment of peace was short-lived due to the sudden sound of a twig snapping in half coming from somewhere behind you.

Quickly pulling out the hunting knife from the sheath you kept on your hip, you twisted your body around and was ready to jump to your feet to face the possible threat, but stopped when you noticed Daryl Dixon standing a few feet away from you with his trusted crossbow thrown over one of his shoulders and his red poncho protecting him from the cold winter air.

“Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?” You asked the archer before slumping back against the tree trunk, letting out a puff of air you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Just makin’ sure your instincts are still sharp.” Daryl shrugged his shoulders loosely before carefully approaching you, unsure if you wanted his presence or not. When you didn’t give any indication that you found his company unwanted, Daryl took his crossbow off his shoulder and set it down against the tree before sitting beside you.

“Why are you really here?” You inquired while turning your head to face Daryl, who had one leg pulled up to his chest while his elbow rested on his knee. In response, Daryl just shrugged his shoulders. Rolling your eyes, you nudged his arm with your elbow, silently urging him to answer.

“Just wanted to make sure you're alright.” Daryl mumbled reluctantly while ducking his head, avoiding your kind eyes.

Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you didn’t extend the conversation further, not wanting to make Daryl even more uncomfortable then he already was. Besides, you didn’t really need any other explanation; you knew that he and the others in the group were worried about how you were handling your grief.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, looking out and appreciating the winter landscape that was laid out in front of you. The scenery looked picturesque, almost as if it was a still for a painting. It had everything needed for a perfect picture: an abundance of barren trees whose branches had a light layer of snow coating over the wood, a creek that streamed directly down the middle of the forest, and the glow of the morning sun that illuminated off of the snow covered ground.

Being in the woods during winter made you think of all the winter days you’d spend with your sibling, running through the woods in your backyard and throwing snowballs at each other, or chasing each other with icicles you had snapped off of the porch railings. This memory caused that wave of grief to come crashing over you again, drowning you in an abundance of sadness, denial, anger, and guilt.

“You think they’re out there somewhere? Still alive?” You whispered into the still air before nervously chewing on your lower lip. Daryl stayed silent for a few moments as he pondered over his thoughts.

“M’not sure…don’t know if being out here in this weather alone gives ‘em much of a chance, but they could be.” Daryl replied honestly, not wanting to sugar-coat his opinion like the others in the group have been doing.

Nodding your head, you processed Daryl’s response. You hated the reality of his words, but you couldn’t help but appreciate his truthfulness. After a few more moments of silence fell between the two of you, you turned your head to look at Daryl once again. “Do you think about your brother being out here in this winter, presumably alone with a stump of an arm that probably hasn't healed properly?” You asked cautiously, attentive to Daryl’s sensitivity about the subject of his brother Merle.

“I try not to…but he's one tough sumbitch. Growin’ up we had to survive tons of winters like these.” Daryl admitted before casting you an almost shy look, not used to being so open to someone before. “They both are…tough sumbitches.” Daryl quickly added before ducking his head and gaze away from you.

“Yeah…you’re not wrong.” You felt the corner of your mouth quirk upwards momentarily as Daryl and you fell in a comfortable silence again.

Instinctually, you found yourself leaning your head against Daryl’s shoulder as the sounds of the creek’s running water was the only sound that filled the silence. For a few moments, Daryl’s body had gone rigged due to the feeling of your head resting against his shoulder. You were worried you had crossed a line, and that the closed-off archer would push you away, but you were relieved when you felt Daryl's body slowly relax against your touch.

Oblivious to you, as your attention was primarily focused on the serenity of the woods, a deer and its fawn had silently emerged from the treeline on the other side of the forest, intent on drinking some of the crisp water that flowed down the creek. Noticing that you hadn’t yet seen the deers, Daryl gently shook the shoulder that you were currently resting your head on to get your attention. Fearing that the archer had changed his mind about having you leaning on him, you began to remove your head away from him, but stopped when Daryl pointed his finger towards the deer.

Pausing to take in the sight of the wildlife, a ghost of a smile began to form on your lips as the deer and it’s fawn drank from the creek; their long necks craned downwards while their small white tails fluttered from side to side, indicating that they felt non-threatened by the human presence that sat on the opposite side of the creek. Relaxing back against Daryl’s shoulder, the two of you observed the deer from afar.

“I’m surprised you haven’t grabbed your bow and taken a shot yet.” You whispered towards Daryl while shooting him a playful smirk. Rolling his eyes, Daryl shook his head and readjusted his back against the tree trunk.

“Ain’t a monster, Y/N. Not gonna make that little one a bambi.” Daryl defended himself as he watched the fawn duck under its mother’s belly, seeking warmth and protection from the cold air.

“Aww, Daryl Dixon does have a heart after all.” You teased in a hushed tone, fearful that if you spoke any louder, you’d scare off the wildlife. Scoffing, Daryl lightly shoved you with his shoulder.

“Stop.” Daryl grumbled to you just as the deer and the fawn began to retreat back into the treeline as they had their fill of hydration.

Before completely disappearing from view, the mother deer looked back and stared directly at you and Daryl, one of its ears twitching backwards. You liked to think the deer was thanking you (more directly Daryl) for not harming her or her fawn and letting them roam the forest in peace.

“We should head back and warm up by the fire at camp…it's gettin’ cold.” Daryl advised once the deer had disappeared from behind the treeline.

“Just five more minutes?” You asked while staring up at the archer with gentle eyes. Glancing down at you, Daryl couldn’t find it in him to say no.

“Fine…five minutes.” Daryl agreed as he relaxed against the tree trunk once again. Grinning, you readjusted your head on Daryl’s shoulder until you got comfortable.

With Daryl by your side in the small section of the woods, where no walkers threatened your survival, at the spot under the oak tree where there was water cascading down a creek, it was easy to momentarily forget about the crushing weight of grief that you carried with you and get lost in the winter serenity.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction

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jingyismom · 3 years

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Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes.

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does.

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers.

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages.

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying’s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage.

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor.

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married.

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?”

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says.

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop.

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair.

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off.

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized.

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns.

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing.

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose.

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it.

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife.

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath.

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill.

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect.

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed.

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.

#my fic #prompt fic #the untamed fanfic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jin zixuan #i don't know why i bother this is NOT gonna show up in tags #i'm not gonna go through and censor things. i'm just. not gonna #also this post is...so ugly #will anyone even read it??? who knows elksfdjns #let's have some fun

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mmvalentine · 2 years

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Spaghetti (extended edition) pt 4 | Feysand

Single dad AU. Domestic fluff and smut. Read part 1 part 2 part 3.

This is the last one, if you got this far thank you so much!!

They get married in Rhys’s backyard.

It makes sense to them; neither of them have ever dreamed of an ostentatious wedding, and there are two small children to look after so it feels like a waste of both money and- if they’re honest- nice things.

So while they are engaged it’s more about Feyre moving in than the wedding itself, and the day creeps up on them. In fairness, most things creep up on them these days; there never seems to be enough time in the day. If it’s not Feyre’s work in chaos it’s Rhys’s, if it’s not Cassian having a meltdown it’s Az, and so they lurch from one day to the next.

But at the end of the day it’s a good exhausted, a happy exhausted that's heavy in their bones. While on the one hand it is a bit of an adjustment to have another person in the house after all these years with just the three of them, Rhys finds that any compromise he makes- there so many pillows on the bed now, more products cramming around his bathroom sink, more hair in his shower drain- are more than made up for by the delight, and the relief, of sharing this life.

Feyre takes over the boys' night time routine and Rhys can actually clean the house. Rhys does the laundry and Feyre folds clothes. There’s art hanging on the walls, and they go out now. To parks and museums and movies, because if one twin goes rogue there’s someone to chase and someone else to hold onto the other one. When things do go wrong Rhys is actually able to laugh, rather than just panic, because suddenly he knows that they’re going to be alright, now that it’s not just down to him. So the twins thrive and Rhys is confronted with the fact that while he held off on relationships for their benefit, in actual fact they’re doing great with a second parent, and maybe part of what he was protecting was himself. Because the twins’ parents died and he was left behind and he hadn’t want to feel like that ever again.

But he'd forgotten the other things he'd shut out too- Rhys actually gets to talk to someone about his day, they swap ideas and solutions and gripes. And when he crawls into bed at the end of the day and tugs Feyre's warm body against his, when he moves inside her and the stress melts away, when he wakes up with the scent of her hair on his pillow so he knows she's there before he opens his eyes, he wonders how the hell he's been surviving all this time without her. He just hopes that for everything she's given them, their little family has added something to her life, too.

And so the months whirl by and these days Rhys has laugh lines around his eyes but they don’t make him feel old, and Feyre has one or two breakdowns in the middle of the night about whether she’s going to be a good step mother but even these don’t scare him. They just sit opposite each other, cross-legged on the bed and share their fears until they don’t seem so scary anymore.

On the day of their wedding, Feyre’s friends arrive in a small knot, and Mor and Emerie from parenting group come, and the friend Feyre calls Rhys’s work-husband. Feyre’s sisters turn up, and this throws her. She didn’t know if they would come, but she tells them how glad she is to see them and then cries in the bedroom once they’ve wandered off to drink mimosas. Rhys is just leaving the bathroom when she pulls him in and shuts the door.

“Feyre?!” Rhys shoves a hand over his eyes. “I’m not supposed to see you in your dress!"

“Oh don’t be silly,” she says, and drags his fingers down. “I just need to you talk me down because my family turned up and I’m freaking out.”

“Wow they really came huh, I thought- oh.” He's turned reluctantly, wanting Feyre to have at least some tradition since she’s not getting the usual dating- marriage- kids order. Then he sees her, white dress and anxious eyes and bottom lip between her teeth. And she's gorgeous.

“Feyre you look…” he shakes his head, his throat unexpectedly constricting. “You look…”

“What, is it my makeup? I know I've smudged it, I'll fix it before I come out again..."

“No," Rhys laughs. "Sweetheart, no. I just... I didn't think the whole white dress thing would get to me, I didn't think I cared about it. But you just... you're so beautiful."

“Oh..." Feyre blinks. She had been distracted by her sisters and sort of forgot what she was wearing. "Thank you.” She bites her lip again, suddenly bashful that Rhys is in here. But there's still her family out there.

“Rhys, I haven’t seen them in years.”

Rhys forces his eyes away from the where her dress clings to her hips, pools at her feet.

“You did want them here, didn’t you?” he asks.

“I think so. I wanted to have that, have my sisters come to my wedding like a normal family, you know?”

“I know. Are you changing your mind now that they're here? I can ask them to leave, if you want."

Feyre shakes her head. "No, I don't want that. I just… I hardly know what to say to them. And I hope they’re alright, they wouldn’t know anyone here…”

Rhys sighs as he steps closer, and slides his hands around her face.

"My darling girl. Always thinking about others." Feyre opens her mouth to protest, but Rhys doesn't let her. “Shh,” he soothes. “Today’s not about them. Today’s about you. Now take a deep breath for me.” Feyre does, and although it’s shaky on the way in, her eyes focus on his as she breathes out. “Good girl.”

“About us,” she whispers. “Today’s about us.”

“That’s right. I know your family hasn’t always been there for you, but you’ve got another family now and I promise that we won't let you down. Not if I can help it.” Feyre lets out a brittle laugh.

“Save some vows for the altar,” she tells him, and Rhys presses his lips to her forehead.

“Are you okay?”

Feyre nods, and Rhys searches her eyes. “I’m fine," she promises. Her voice comes our muffled when he hugs her tight into his chest. "You can go now.” Still, it's a moment longer before he lets her go.

“See you out there,” he says, and winks before closing the door behind him.

Standing at the altar, which is actually just a spot between two trees and a local minister, Rhys breathes in the crisp Fall air and wonders how he got here. He's got two tiny best men and the best girl on her way to him.

When Feyre appears, she’s taken her hair down and it falls in soft curls around her face and neck. He saw the dress in the bedroom but here in the weak October sun, she’s divine. She walks to him with laughter in the corners of his mouth and she’s an angel.

“Dearly beloved,” begins the minister, when Feyre is standing opposite him and the boys are bouncing up and down by his side. He doesn’t hear the rest.

“Hi,” he mouths at Feyre.

“Hey,” she breathes back. Her fingers brush over his.

“I love you.” He shapes the words silently. She just smiles and keeps looking at him, and then he’s repeating after the minister and the twins, bless them for not screwing this up, they each produce a wedding band.

When it’s Feyre’s turn, she goes off script.

“I, Feyre Archeron,” she begins. But before the minister can feed her the line with Rhys’s name, she lets go of his hands and kneels before his sons. “Take you, Cassian and Azriel, to be my very own children.” Rhys loses it.

He swipes at the tears with the heels of his palms as Feyre promises the twins that she will love them for the rest of her life and never leave them, until death do them part, and then some. He hadn’t known she was going to do this and it’s more than he could have asked for.

The twins, on their parts, get emotional but hold it together. Rhys isn't sure at first how much they understand, but when they tear up and cling to Feyre's neck he knows. They hear her loud and clear.

Feyre stands up, and completes her vows to Rhys. She takes the remaining ring and slides it onto his finger. He only hears “You may-" before he’s got his arms around her waist and he's crushing his lips to hers.

That night they have spaghetti, of course, Rhys and Feyre and the boys and all the friends that came. They had woken up early and spent all morning simmering an enormous pot of bolognese, and now they sit on chairs around the backyard and eat off their laps, and the wine is red and the cake is chocolate and music is perfect. Rhys and Feyre slow-dance in the living room and barely notice when it gets late and the guests file out. Mor and Emerie have kindly volunteered to take the boys for the night, and although Rhys has put new sheets on the bed and gone the whole rose-petals-and-candles affair, they do not make it up the stairs.

There’s the soft snick of the door closing as the last guest leaves, and although the house is now littered with dirty dishes and empty glasses and scraps of paper and ribbon, they make no move to clean up. Not when the song is so good and Rhys can feel Feyre down the line of his body, from her face in the crook of his neck to the curve of her spine under his fingers.

“The house is empty, wife,” he says softly.

“Then kiss me, husband,” she says, and he does.

The first kiss is as slow as the dance, and the slide is warm with wine.

Rhys crooks a finger under her chin, and keeps his eyes open when she opens for his tongue. She tastes like wedding cake, and it’s a quick descent from there to hungry hands and scraping teeth. Rhys pulls her tighter against him, and when his calves hit the couch he lets himself fall into it. Pulls Feyre into his lap so she’s straddling him, pushes her skirt up her thighs so her beautiful dress is bunched up around her hips.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs against her lips. But instead of standing, he drags her hips down over his lap, and when she arches into the friction, he kisses the tops of her breasts.

“Bed,” she agrees after a moment, but he’s slid down the couch a little as he grinds into her so that the hard line of him is right where she wants it, and without thinking her fingers are pulling at his belt. She’s got the button of his suit pants undone and the zipper all the way down, but Rhys suddenly pushes her up onto her knees at the same time as he slides further down the couch. So he’s eye-level with the white lace of her underwear, and then his mouth is covering the heat of her.

Feyre gasps in surprise and her hands fall against the upright part of the couch. Rhys tugs the delicate fabric down with one hand and then holds her skirts up to her stomach. His other hand curls around the back of her thigh and secures her to his face. He licks a broad stroke through her centre and Feyre moans. Rhys drags his tongue up and down, moving his head with the motion and taking his time.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he tells her. Groans it against her clit. "Just waiting for everyone to leave."

He ducks lower so that his tongue is pushing inside her, while the tip of his nose brushes against her clit. Moves in and out while curling his tongue like she’s ice cream, until she's trying to fuck herself on his tongue and then he moves to circle over her clit.

“Bed?” she struggles out, but even as she says it her hands tighten on the back of the couch, and she's leaning into Rhys’s mouth, as he flicks faster with the end of his tongue and coaxes a deep moan from her throat. His hands squeeze over her backside at the sound.

“Soon,” he mumbles, and then he’s pulling her down with him, laying her back on the couch and leaning up over her, and while she’s waiting for him to kiss her, he pushes his fingers into her instead. She moans again, but it’s not what she wanted. She reaches down between them, even as she moves on his hand now that he’s there. He just watches her, curls his fingers while she tugs his cock free. He can wait a bit longer, is enjoying making her writhe, would have waited for her to come first just like this, but Feyre’s not having it.

“I want…” she mutters.

“Want what, honey?” Rhys breathes.

“Want you,” she tells him.

“You have me.”

Feyre frowns, even as her back arches. “No I don’t,” she argues, and then she shoves his hand away and guides his cock over her wetness instead.

Rhys hisses as he slides against the silk of her, his head against her cilt for just a minute or two before he’s notched at her entrance and moving his mouth in the soft part of her throat.

“Still want you,” Feyre mumbles, and now her knees are coming up around his waist to pull him in. Grabby, desperate. Rhys groans and flexes his hips, she’s tight enough that he wants to give her a moment to adjust but how can he argue when she’s pushing up onto him? "Want you now," she insists.

“Okay you win,” he slurs, and then it’s a slight withdrawal before he sinks all the way into her.

It’s a sudden squeeze at his shoulders that lets Rhys know he was right, it was too soon, but neither of them are complaining. Feyre moves up to meet him every time, and Rhys has one hand braced on the back of the couch to get her at a deeper angle.

He wonders, briefly, if it’s a bit obscene to be fucking on the couch in a wedding dress. If she deserved to be treated with a bit more reverence on her wedding night.

Then his wife makes an especially dirty sound when he hits the spot he knows she likes, and he decides he loves her all the more for choosing this. This messy life and the spaghetti reception and the sex in the living room.

Rhys drops down and leans on his elbows, on either side of Feyre’s head. He slows his movements to a deep, rolling pace and strokes her hair away from her as he moves inside her.

“Are you happy?” he asks her.

“Yes,” she answers, and she sounds so sure, beams so widely that he believes her. “Are you? Are you happy, too?”

And Rhys tries to think of a way to answer that, a way to convey just how far beyond his expectations of life he had found himself, and instead of words all he finds is a wave of emotion, that he loves this woman so much it hurts. So all he says is, “yes,” but his body is looking for ways to be closer to her. “Yes I’m happy.”

And maybe she reads the change in his face, because the play fades from her eyes and their hips speed up and gods suddenly every slide snaps electricity between them. They start pushing clothes all the way off, desperate to be naked against one another, and if they tear clothing neither of them are worried because it’s not like they have need for a wedding dress again. Rhys closes his mouth over Feyre’s nipple as she fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, and he moves from her only to get his hands out of the sleeves, his feet out of his pants, and then he’s there again, he’s everywhere and Feyre’s starting to unravel in his arms. She tangles her hands in the back of his hair and soon she’s just holding on to him, barely in control of her movements, while he’s got a thumb on her clit and his teeth on her throat and then he’s whispering in her ear.

“I’m so close,” he says. “Feyre I need you to come.”

The rough of his voice when he’s breaking is enough for Feyre to find the edge.

“Come on baby,” he coaxes. “Come for me, oh please come for me.”

And his fingers have tightened in her hair, his hips have begun to stutter against hers and Feyre knows he’s only holding on because he’s waiting for her. She wonders if he knows that him losing it is the only thing she really needs to come all the way undone.

Rhys moans low and long in her ear, the rumble of it vibrating between his lips and her skin and that’s what does it. She falls over the edge and delights in the way Rhys falls too, hot on her heels and totally hers.

Rhys is pressing kisses across her collar bones while she catches her breath, and Feyre takes a snapshot in her mind of their wedding clothes in puddles on the floor.

It’s minutes later that they leave them there, when Rhys scoops her naked into his arms and carries her up the stairs to the perfectly made bed in their room. She closes her eyes and leans against his chest, but Rhys laughs as he kisses her temple.

“Don’t go to sleep just yet, my love,” he says. “You have to see the bed.”

Indeed when Rhys pushes the door open with his foot, Feyre gasps. The candles are burning low by now but it just makes the glow warmer, and the scent of roses is still heavy in the air.

Rhys lays her down on the new, white sheets.

“How about a massage?” he says, already rolling her onto her stomach. Feyre smiles up at him, loose and sleepy already.

“Sounds nice,” she says, and lets her eyes close while Rhys warms oil in his hands. “I am a little tight in my shoulders- or there, sure,” she grins, when her husband’s hands start on her backside. “Yeah that feels nice too, I- oh…” She’s cut off when his oil-slick fingers slide between her legs, against her clit and back up. She looks at Rhys, but he’s massaging her ass again and looking innocent.

“What?” he asks, and she gives him a look and settles down again. In time for his hands to go wandering again, and this time he slides two digits straight into her.

“Oh,” Feyre gasps again, arching up off the bed.

But then he’s gone, now massaging firmly up over her lower back, the picture of professionalism. Her head drops down again, but now her heartrate’s up.

The next time his fingers push into her, Feyre says “Rhys I swear-“ but instead of withdrawing, he keeps his fingers moving in and out. Surges up to cut her words off with his mouth, and Feyre forgets what she was going to say as the pleasure coils heavy and tight. It’s quicker, since she’s already come once, and this time when Rhys comes up over her, all hot naked skin and not letting the kiss break, it’s an easy slide for him to be seated deep inside her once more.

They move slowly, languidly, liquidly with one another, his knees bracketing hers and his chest solid and warm at her back. By the time he rolls her over, knee hooked over his elbow to get deeper, it’s just the roll of his tongue against hers that breaks her. He watches the full rise and fall of her climax before he comes this time, moving smoothly the whole time so her orgasm is dragged out and it’s only when she’s boneless that he comes, too.

They barely make it under the covers before they’re aleep.

***

Five years later, the house is a little worse for wear and Rhys has grey in his temples and a tan line where his wedding band sits. Now, when he sticks his head out the window and hollers "Boys! It's getting dark, get in the house!" there are three of them. Cass, Az, and little three-year-old Nyx.

Of course, Rhys is the worrier in the family. The twins grow taller and stronger but that only means faster and more chaotic. Rhys thinks they are a little rough sometimes, but Feyre always tells them that she trusts them implicitly and that makes them take their big brother responsibilities very seriously.

By the time Nyx starts kindergarten, the twins are old enough that they walk him to and from school. They teach him to skateboard, and grow tomatoes, make pancakes. They also recruit him into the pranks they play on Rhys, and show him how to break into Rhys's office where they can sometimes find coins for cornerstore candy. Rhys calls them his "little devils," with equal parts exasperation and affection.

"They're not devils, they're angels," Feyre says.

"They're devils," Rhys argues. "And you're biased because they love you the most."

Feyre shakes her head. "That's not true."

"It is," Rhys insists. "I'm amazed we haven't had any broken bones yet, honestly it's a miracle."

"They'll be fine, my love."

"You say that," Rhys says. "But do you know what I just over heard? That they're going to teach Nyx to fly today. That cannot mean anything good."

Feyre gets up from where she is sitting and crosses over to Rhys. He's perched on the edge of his armchair with his hands flapping about as he frets, and Feyre pushes him back as she folds herself into his lap.

"It's going to be okay." She smoothes his hair back and kisses his nose. Rhys's hands slide automatically around her waist, and it's true that he feels calmer when she's in his arms. "I told you," Feyre says. "They're angels. Don't you know our boys all have wings?"

***

The end!

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel @rarephloxes

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #rhys x feyre #this is the fluffiest most domestic thing i've ever written #and mostly likely will ever write #and i kind of wish it had done better #but if you got to the end thank you!

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ladydaemon · 3 years

Text

SICK DAYS

kaz brekker x female! reader

A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.

Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.

Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning

Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.

It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.

"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."

"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."

It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.

These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:

House arrest.

Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.

Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.

"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.

"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?

"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."

"Still."

Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."

The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."

As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"

She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.

She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.

"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."

One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."

"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."

"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."

"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."

"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.

Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"

"Whatever dagger your heart desires."

"Two daggers and a gun."

"One dagger and a gun."

"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.

She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.

I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.

"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.

"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."

"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.

"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.

Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."

Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.

She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.

She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.

Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.

Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.

"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.

"Your face is the most interesting thing here."

For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."

"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."

"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.

"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."

Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.

Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"

"The numbers don't add up."

She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"

He blinked at her.

"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"

Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."

"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."

Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"

Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."

She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."

Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.

However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.

Almost.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker imagine

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xx-ashes-xx · 3 years

Note

Heyy! I love your blog I was wondering if I could request an enhypen imagine! Could you please do the reader is playfully teasing them and they pick the reader and throw them over their shoulder and tickle them? It’s completely okay if you’re too busy to do this!! Just wanted to let you know that your anon submissions aren’t on :)

Thank you!! 😭 I had no idea that I had to go on desktop to turn on anon submissions and name my asks. I actually don't know if you want an imagine for each member or a reaction+imagine so I just did an imagine for each. I'm new to having a blog so please be patient with me! I didn't know what to title this so I went with no title. :)

Word Count: 1703

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None! But if you have any triggers then be careful!

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction please don’t become a delulu.

Heeseung:

You two were eating ramen in the living room, watching a movie. Heeseung, too caught up with the movie, had ramen noodles hanging out of his mouth as he blankly stared at the TV. You looked over at him, almost spitting out noodles. He looked like he was spaced out or crazy, mouth hanging open, noodles almost falling out his mouth.

You slowly got out your phone, taking a pic.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" Heeseung asked, snapping out of space. He quickly swallowed the noodles and regained his composure. "No." You held back a laugh "You're lying let me see." He argued, trying to reach for your phone.

You held your phone back, just out of his reach, "No, you're going to make me delete it."

You were trying your hardest to hold back laughter, but failed.

"You should've seen yourself, you looked hilarious!" You laughed, holding your stomach from laughing too hard "Give me your phone!!" He yelled, trying to snatch your phone from you. "Noo~ I'm going to set it as my wallpaper." You replied with a cheeky grin.

Heeseung ended up tackling you, tickling your sides until you dropped your phone.

"HeEseUng nO!"

Jay:

Laying on the couch, Jay was too busy on his phone to pay attention to you, who was now bored. Tired of scrolling through your phone, you decided to mess with him for a bit.

You snatched his phone and ran into the hallway.

"Pay attention to me!" You whined, sticking out your tongue to aggravate him "Y/N, give me back my phone!" He shouted, getting up from the couch.

He went to the hallway and tried to snatch his phone back from your hands. After a few tries, he got tired of playing around. He picked you up and threw you over the shoulder.

"Jay! Let me down!!" You shouted, hitting his back "Not until you give me back my phone!" He replied.

He carried you to the bedroom and placed you on the bed, tickling you.

"This is what you get for stealing my phone, you're going to die from tickles." He said "nO. StoP iT." You laughed, still holding onto his phone "Do you really want the gravestone to read, 'Here lies Y/N L/N, died from tickles'?" He questioned "Okay, okay!" You gave up, handing him back his phone "Thank you." He said, giving you a kiss on the temple, "The next time you want attention, just tell me, alright?" "Okay." You smiled.

Jake:

You were playing with Layla while Jake watched.

“Who’s a good girl?? You are.” You said, as you gave Layla belly rubs, “Jakey, doesn’t it seem like she likes me more?” “No way, she loves me the most.” He replied “You sure about that Jakey??” You teased as you hugged Layla.

Layla licked your face before going back to smiling with her tongue out.

“See? She loves me now,” You said, “Layla, do you wanna stay at my house??” “No way, I’m not allowing that.” He replied, “Let’s see who Layla goes to.” “Alright.” You agreed.

You and Jakestand in opposite sides, urging Layla to come closer. Layla was a bit confused on who to go to but after a few seconds, she went to you.

You bursted out laughing, “She loves me the most now!”

Jake practically fell to the ground, eyes closed. He was quiet for a few seconds before screaming, “LAYLA!!”

He stood up back up and tackled you, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you over his shoulder.

“JAKE LET ME DOWN.” You screamed “TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID FIRST, LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” He replied “NEVER!” You shouted.

He started to spin around, making you both dizzy.

“JAKE STOP I’M GETTING DIZZY!” You shouted “NOT UNTIL YOU SAY THAT LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” He replied “OKAY, LAYLA LOVES ME THE MOST!” You teased “AAAHHHHH!” He screamed in frustration.

He puts you down on the couch and when you thought it was over, he started to tickle you.

“AGH JAKE!” You screamed “Repeat after me, Layla loves Jake the most and I will always be second place.” He said “NO!” You replied “I’m not going to stop until you say it.” He said “OkAy, LaylA lOves jAke tHe mOst aNd I wiLl alWays bE seCond PlaCe.” You gave in.

Jake stopped tickling you and smiled in victory.

“But we both know that’s a lie.” You commented, holding back a laugh.

Here comes the tickling.

Sunghoon:

“Rock, paper, scissors on who does the dishes?” You asked “Sure.” Sunghoon agreed.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” You shouted.

You, rock. Sunghoon, scissors.

“YEAHH!” You shouted “WAit waiT, best out of three!” He argued “Too late, you’re doing the dishes.” You replied, sticking out your tongue “You were just lucky, best out of three, you won’t win that’s why you won’t do it.” He complained “Alright you big cry baby, just to prove that fate has chosen you, Park Sunghoon, to do the dishes.” You replied, smirking.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” Sunghoon shouted.

You, rock. Sunghoon, scissors.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” He shouted, “YOU THREW ROCK TWICE THAT’S CHEATING!!” “NO IT’S NOT YOU’RE JUST SALTY!!” You replied.

Sunghoon gave up and threw you over his shoulder, heading towards the living room. “Let me down!” You shouted, hitting his back “Not until you admit you cheated!!” He replied, laying you down on the couch “And what are you gonna do if I don’t?” You questioned “Tickle you.” He replied.

Hands at your sides, aggressively tickling you.

“AGHH SUNGHOON YOU’RE GOING TOO FAR!” You screamed, laughing “NO YOU DID IN ROCK PAPER SCISSORS!” He argued “WHAT ABOUT THIS, WE DO THEM TOGETHER!” You compromised “NO YOU DO THEM!” He argued “SUNGHOON PLEASE!” You begged, trying to swat his hands away from your sides “Fine! But you owe me ice cream afterward!” He said.

Sunoo:

You and Sunoo were doing each other’s makeup. You wanted to prank Sunoo, so you decided to ‘accidentally’ put a bit too much blush and drew hearts all over his face, saying “It’s a Valentine’s Day theme makeup look, relax Sunoo.” “Alright, but you better not do anything funny.” He replied “I won’t.” You lied.

After you were finished, you quickly took a picture and told him to open his eyes.

“Y/N WHAT IS THIS?!” Sunoo screamed, “You said you wouldn’t do anything funny” “I’m sorry! You still look cute though!” You replied, laughing “No I don’t! I look crazy!” He replied, pouting “I’m getting revenge for this!”

Sunoo tackled you, tickling your sides.

“AHH KIM SUNOO!!” You screamed “You brought this upon yourself Y/N L/N!” He said, laughing as well “Sunoo, I’m sorry!! It won’t happen again!” You apologized “That’s not good enough, try again!” He replied “Kim Sunoo, the visual of Enhypen, the most handsome guy I know, the boy with the most duality, my sunshine, I’m sorry for doing that to your precious pretty face!” You shouted.

Sunoo stopped and smiled, “You flatter me, Y/N L/N, but don’t do that again!”

He laid on top of you, head on your chest and arms wrapped around you. “I can’t promise that, but you have a free pass to do that to me.” You said, “Deal?” “Deal, I guess..” He agreed with a pout “I can tell that you’re pouting.” You said, kissing the top of his head, “I love you Kim Sunoo. Don’t ever forget that.” “I know,” He replied, smiling, “I love you too Y/N L/N.”

Jungwon:

You and Jungwon were playing a game on the Nintendo Switch. You kept on winning which made Jungwon a bit frustrated.

“Are you cheating?” He asked “How am I cheating? You just suck.” You teased “No I don’t. Watch, in this match, I’ll win.” He replied.

While playing the game, an idea popped into Jungwon’s head. When you were close to winning, Jungwon suddenly started to tickle you. “YAH YANG JUNGWON YOU CHEATER!” You shouted, trying to finish the match “You’re winning too much!” He replied, “It’s not fair!”

In the end, you won that match.

“A cheater for sure.” He said “You cheated during that match!” You argued, “I was lucky to win.” “Ah, whatever, I shouldn’t be making a big deal out of it.” He said, pouting.

You looked at him, feeling a bit bad that you made him pout.

“It’s alright Jungwon, you can always improve.” You said, “Do you wanna watch a movie and cuddle?” “Can I pick the movie?” He asked “Of course.” You replied, “Want me to go get some ice cream to eat as well?” “Yes please.” He answered.

You went to get some ice cream from the kitchen and went back to the living room with two spoons.

“Cheer up, Jungwon, next time I’ll go easy and let you practice with me.” You said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Ni-ki:

You two were laying in bed, Ni-ki refusing to get up.

“I guess it can’t be helped.” You sighed, getting up.

Before you walked out of the room, you looked back at Ni-ki, his eyes still shut.

“Looks like I’ll have to eat Bungeoppang by myself.” You said loudly, speed walking down the hallway before Ni-ki can tackle you.

You thought you were safe until you were swept off your feet. Ni-ki had you over his shoulder.

“Well that was quick.” You commented “Don’t eat Bungeoppang without me, you can only eat it with me.” He said, his voice hoarse “Yeah, yeah,” You replied, “So you won’t get up when I tell you to but you will when I go to eat Bungeoppang?” “Bungeoppang is for life.” Ni-ki replied.

Ni-ki carried you to the kitchen, placing you down next to a chair.

“I’ll get the Bungeoppang, you sit tight.” He said “Alright.” You replied, holding back a laugh, “We still haven’t brushed our teeth.” “Bungeoppang first, we’ll brush our teeth after.” He said “You mean, you’ll brush your teeth after,” You replied, “Come and brush your teeth when the Bungeoppang is in the microwave, it’ll taste better if you do.” You gave Ni-ki a peck on the cheek before heading to your shared bathroom.

A/N: It took forever to write for all of the members but I’m glad I did but Sunoo’s ending is just 😩😩 I wasn’t able to put in the entire request for all of the members but it still had parts of it. I hope you enjoyed it!

#enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen heeseung

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kj-1130 · 3 years

Text

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on.

As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up.

The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could.

Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room.

But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse.

He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life.

You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together.

About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation.

Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday.

“Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.”

“It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

“Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-” “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off.

“Who is this guest?”

“Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man.

“Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

“Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching.

Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in.

“New York.”

He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays.

“Washington D.C”

A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following.

“Sokovia.”

The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land.

“Lagos.”

“That’s enough,” Steve interrupts.

Ross nods in response and begins his speech again.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

“So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states.

“Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”

Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

“Then you retire.”

The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you.

“Can I help you?”

“You’re a little young to be an intern.”

“You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder.

Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder.

You look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.”

Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you.

“Don’t touch me,”

Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have.

“So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.”

“I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator.

“Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

“Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap.

Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey says.

You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere.

“Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man.

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

“There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

“We would protect you,” Vision promised.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts.

“I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.

“Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.”

From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly.

You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team.

“Someone’s upset,” you hum.

You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle.

“Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.”

Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair.

“I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

You open the bottle and take a sip.

“What are you doing down here kid--”

“Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

“Just answer the question,” Tony snaps.

“I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.”

An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water.

“Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?”

“Not you too,” your father mutters.

You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely.

“Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks.

“Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

“Look,” Tony attempts.

“I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

“I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed.

It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read.

“You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands.

“Hey,” she quietly protests.

“Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek.

She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more.

Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours.

This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath.

“We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled.

Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side.

“Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47.

“Guess I’m spending the night then.”

“I have no problem with that.”

The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video.

“A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Nat what the fuck is going on?”

You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone. “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

“(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle.

“Okay, whatever. Bye.”

“(Y/n) c’mo--”

You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk. “You sound stressed.”

Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her.

“I am.”

You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly.

“There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging.

MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close.

“They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.”

There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up.

“C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face.

Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen.

She turned around and grabbed your shoulders.

“We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work.

It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back.

When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it.

Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw.

“What the hell happened?”

The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers.

Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs.

“You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?”

Both men looked away and avoided your gaze.

“You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

“Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

“Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!”

You turned to your father with pleading eyes.

“Where are they, Tony?”

“Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

“Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?”

You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them.

Just when things were alright.

“(Y/n)?”

“What M.I.A?”

You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

“There’s a package for you.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room.

Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone.

Hey sweetheart.

It was Natasha’s handwriting.

I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now.

I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me.

I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart.

But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will.

I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call.

You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand.

You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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fawnandshadows · 3 years

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After the Ceremony - Chapter 4

Hello Everyone! I am so excited to share Chapter 4 with you guys. I am so appreciative of all of the love I've received from the first three chapter, and I want you guys to know that I have chapter 5 written! Chapter 5 is officially the last chapter, and it will be out next week. This fic is also available on AO3.

I hope you guys enjoy xoxo

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian’s Mating Ceremony.

Words: 3,550

Story Rating: M

Elain was flustered all through breakfast. There was a burning between her thighs, and from the way everyone was studiously avoiding her gaze, she knew that everyone was aware of it. That they could scent it. Elain would have been absolutely mortified if she wasn’t so focused on not throwing herself at Azriel, who was seated as far away from her as possible. He was on the opposite end of the table, sitting across from Nesta, and Elain wanted nothing more than to peel herself out of her dress and feel Azriel’s skin on her - to feel Azriel as he pushed into her warm heat and filled her until she -

“Elain,” Nesta said from two seats over, breaking Elain out of her very vivid daydream. “Would you ever consider training with us? Cass and I talked it over and we thought it might be a good idea.”

Elain leaned over Cassian's hulking form, which was shoveling eggs into his mouth, to look at Nesta. Her sister looked radiant, way too radiant for someone who spent the night making love to her newly mated male, in fact they both looked suspiciously well rested, and not at all as restless as Elain felt. She felt like an electric current was coursing through her veins and the only thing that could soothe it was a certain shadowsinger who was pointedly ignoring her. Elain meant to respond to her sister, but her eyes drifted back to the male sitting across from her. She noticed how his arms flex, just a little, as they brought a cup of water up to his lips, and Elain thought about how his naked arms would look as he took her on the table, one hand under her knee and the other fisted in her hair, pulling just a little as he thrust -

Azriel choked on his water. His wide eyes with surprise as they met hers, and he looked flustered. The scary spymaster and shadowsinger, looked at her with an open jaw, bright red cheeks, and water dribbling down his chin.

The ache at her core throbbed at the sight of him. She wanted to see Azriel flustered more often.

Amren smacked him on the back, her eyes going back and forth between the two of them, before smacking his back a little harder than necessary, as if to remind them of Elains mate that was sitting at the table. Lucien glowered at Azriel before going back to his breakfast and conversation with Feyre, who was sitting at the end of the table to Elains right.

Cassian looked at Azriel for a minute before stating, “You need to get laid.”

Elain felt her eyes go wide at her brother-in-laws comment before hiding her face in her hair. She thought about how close they had come the night before, and she was kicking herself for stopping them. Waiting had seemed like such a good idea last night, but right now all Elain wanted was for Azriel to make love to her and never stop. She wanted him to claim her in a way that nobody ever had. She wanted him to leave a mark on her so that every other fae in Prythian would know who owned her heart- who she gave her heart two.

“Cassian!” Feyre exclaimed, carefully keeping her eyes off of her sister. “We’re eating breakfast.”

“Tell that to him,” Cassian said and pointed a finger at Azriel. “He’s the one that is stinking up the room with his arousal,” Which earned him a punch in the arm courtesy of Nesta. Elain had thought that everyone could smell her arousal, but did they think it was Azriels? Did their scents smell the same, but if they thought it was Azriel’s arousal, then why weren’t they looking at her. Unless they thought she was the reason for his current state.

The usually unflappable spymaster was so flushed that his only response to Cassian was a murderous glare and a swift “shut up.” Elain took in the sharp line of his jaw, and imagined running her tongue over it. How could she not have done that the night before? She imagined that jaw between her legs, while his tongue was pressing against her core, and she could feel it.

“So you think Elain should train?” Feyre said from Elain’s left, trying to get the conservation normal again.

Elain was suddenly bombarded with a mental image of her in Illyrian leathers, but she was kneeling in front of someone. The scarred hand that tangled in her hair told her she was kneeling in front of Azriel. Her mouth was opened and she was licking his -

It was Elain’s turn to gasp this time, her eyes flying to Azriel, who looked at her with a smirk. Did he know what she saw? That was impossible, no one ever saw her visions but her. Unless it wasn’t a vision…

A soft coolness brushed against her bare leg under the table, and Elain knew it was a shadow. She didn’t know whether this particular shadow was bold, or if it was under the directions of Azriel. Either way she was curious to find out. She bit her lip and glanced towards the shadowsinger, whose face was unreadable, but his eyes were suspiciously bright. He definitely knew what he was doing.

The shadow caressed her leg so delicately Elain was surprised she felt it. Feeling the shadow against her skin cooled her down just enough so that she could gather her thoughts to feel humiliation creeping up her spine like ivy, as she finally understood the situation.

Oh Mother. Her family could smell her arousal.

Her face burned hotter than ever before. She needed to excuse herself from the table.

Elain stood up so fast she thought she was going to faint, and ignored the six pairs of eyes watching her, and she muttered some excuse about helping the twins in the kitchen. She turned so quickly she almost toppled her chair, and she left behind a plate of cold eggs as she practically ran from the room.

She didn’t go to the kitchen. She bolted past it and out the side door, not bothering to take in her surroundings — otherwise she wouldn’t have tripped over the uneven patch of the cobblestone path leading to her garden, and continued straight to her little gardening shed.

It actually wasn’t so little. Elain’s gardening shed was practically a cabin. She had insisted on something smaller, just a regular wooden tool shed, but Rhysand in all his generosity wanted to build her something big enough for her to live in, so they came to a compromise. There was one big main room, filled with everything she could possibly want to garden with, a small kitchenette and bathroom fitted with running water, and Rhysand convinced her to add a small bedroom in case she tired while gardening. Despite his meddling her brother-in-law did love to spoil her.

Her shed was the only place she could feel truly alone at the river house, and she hoped that the smell of flowers and various fertilizers would cover the scent of her arousal. Elain barely noticed the hot tears sliding down her face as she slammed the door shut, she was feeling too many emotions to care about anything, and despite her confusion and humiliation, her desire for Azriel was so strong, and the burning at her core came back with a vengeance, that nothing really mattered to her. Every cell in her body wanted to be claimed by Azriel.

Elain collapsed in on herself. Her body hit the floor with a thud, and she brought her knees up to her chest in a hug. She sat there crying for a minute before she heard her name being whispered in the shadows. Her head whipped around so quickly she almost struck it against the door — at first she only saw shadow, but then there was Azriel clear as day with inky shadows swirling around his form.

“Az,” Elain exclaimed before getting to her feet and throwing herself at him. She expected to feel his hardened muscles, the softness of his shirt against her cheek, and the thrill of his calloused fingers against her skin, but she felt nothing except cool air. Elain took a step back and looked at him in confusion.

“It’s a trick I learned. Very helpful for spying, but not so much for comforting,” Az explained, and his face softened into concern as he continued. “Are you ok?”

“I’m so confused, and humiliated,” Elain sniffed as she brought her arms around herself. Her voice turned to a whisper as she said, “And all I want is for you to touch me the way you did last night and to never stop. I-I don’t understand.” She hiccuped.

“I’m not exactly sure what is happening, but I promise you I will find out. I want nothing more than to touch you too,” Az let out a groan that skittered over Elains skin and caused her aching center to throb. “But I don’t think I should see you until you… settle down.” After seeing the horrified look on her face he continued. “Not because I don’t want to, but because of what you said last night. You wanted to be free the first time we — made love— and I want to respect that. I’ll tell everyone that you aren’t feeling well, and I’ll have Nuala and Cerridwen bring you food and everything you need.”

“Are you not affected?” Elain asked in a whisper.

“I am, but I have been feeling this for a long time, Elain. I have wanted you for so long and been denied — every part of me is screaming to go to you right now, but I don’t want everyone to know. Well, I want to rub it in everyone’s face that the prettiest girl in Pyrthian wants to be with me,” Azriel shook his head with a small smile. “However, you know how our family can be.”

Elain nodded in understanding, and her tears subsided just a little. Azriel thought that she was the prettiest girl in Prythian. Happiness bloomed in her chest like a rose in spring.

“When will I see you again?” Elain asked and another thought occurred to her. “Are you still at breakfast?”

“No, I left a moment or two after you. I didn’t want everyone noticing that the scent in the room was lessening, so I left too. Rhysand and Lucien looked like they wanted to kill me, but fuck ‘em.”

A small giggle erupted from Elain as she said, “Yeah, fuck ‘em.”

Azriel blinked in surprise before tossing his head back in laughter.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can, I promise. I don’t want to be away from you any more than you want to be away from me,” Azriel said with a blush. “I’m assuming.”

“You’re correct.” Elain gave him her best smile — one that hopefully said she wasn’t going to climb the walls in desperation and want. “I miss you.” Elain said and her smile turned shy.

“I miss you too,” Azriel said with a heartbreaking smile. “I’ll see you soon, love.”

Elain said goodbye before he vanished into shadows.

Azriel felt weird about going to the library in his current state. He knew that the females that worked there had experienced trauma in the past and that the library was a safe haven for them, and he was more than embarrassed to be entering their sanctuary with the stench of arousal dripping off of him. Clotho hadn’t seemed to notice, however, when she saw him and directed him to the fourth floor. Az didn’t get the chance to say why he was there.

He did his best to avoid the priestess’ as he made his way to the fourth floor, which was suspiciously easy — almost as if they could smell him coming and knew not to go near him. The next training session was going to be uncomfortable.

When Az finally got to the section Clotho had directed him to he was stunned to find Mor sitting at a table with dozens of books spread out and propped open, she was pouring over an ancient looking book when her brown eyes looked up and met his.

She looked pleasantly surprised as she said, “You’re here sooner than I expected.”

“Mor,” Azriel said with a sigh and rubbed his temples. He could feel the beginning of a headache approaching. “What the hell is going on.”

The girl looked at him with pity before patting the seat next to her.

“I’ve been looking into all kinds of bonds that can occur between fae,” Mor started and held up a worn red book, “regular, run of the mill mating bonds,” She set her book down before picking up a fraying and tattered green one. “Surprisingly they have a book on bonds that can be made by the Cauldron — ancient, and in a language I barely understand,” Mor set the book down gingerly before picking up a hefty blue leather bound book. “And volumes, so many volumes, of mating bonds throughout the history of Prythian. This one here is just the greatest hits, but the next aisle over,” She set the book down and pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “Has over 70 books detailing various mating bonds throughout history in the tiniest print you have ever seen. I didn’t know it was possible to write that small, but Mother bless the person who came up with the anti-aging spell for ink and parchment.”

Azriel stared at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll take my thank you any day now.” Mor said.

“Why are you doing this?” Azriel asked in a calm voice. He looked at her intently as she tried to keep her face blank, but ended up turning the book opened in front of her.

“I want you to be happy,” Mor said in a quiet voice, so different from her usual boisterous self. “After,” She nibbled on her lip to collect her thoughts. “After 500 years you deserve happiness. I feel almost responsible, and I just-” She cut herself off with a shake of her head. “You and Elain both deserve to be happy.”

Azriel looked at her for a second before saying, “Thank you,” He let a moment pass before adding, “I want you to be happy too.”

He could see her eyes start to line with silver, but she managed to crack a smile.

“I’ll be happy once I can leave, Az,” She deadpanned which caused Azriel to roll his eyes. “So get to work.”

They spent at least three hours sifting through book after book only to come up empty handed. Azriel didn’t know what he expected, but he thought he would be able to find something that would at least point him in the right direction. He certainly didn’t think there would be that many books on mating bonds, or even spells that could create the illusion of a mating bond. Even the book on Cauldron made bonds held nothing of importance for him.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes with the heels of palms. All he wanted to do was see Elain again, but he couldn’t go back to her empty handed.

“Maybe we are looking in the wrong section.” Mor suggested as she slumped in her seat.

“Has Clotho ever been wrong before?” Az asked and attempted to keep his frustration at bay. He knew it would take a while to find the information he wanted, but all of his self-restraint and patience had been worn thin. He may be the Spymaster, but he was a male just like any other, and he ached for a certain female.

“I could sense a bond between you two,” Mor said and ran her hands through her mane of hair in frustration. “But I didn’t understand why nothing snapped into place when you ate the food she offered.”

“Oh,” Azriel said with a blink. He ran a hand over his face as he realized he forgot to tell her a very important piece of information. “I offered her a sip of my coffee, and then a blue river of energy flowed out of her chest and into mine.”

He remembered perfectly how it looked and how it had shocked him to his bones. The beautiful silver-blue radiating from her heart, like mist over the Sidra, and found its way home to his chest.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Mor exclaimed, her voice breaking the tranquility of the library, as she gestured to the piles of books surrounding them.

“Sorry,” Azriel said. “I’ve been a little distracted.”

He had been. Everytime he turned the page his mind kept wandering back to Elain, and once he started to think of Elain he began to feel her. He could feel how amazingly soft her lips were, how pliant her body was as it pressed against him, and then he could see the two of them tangled in sheets while her cries of pleasure rang through the air. There were multiple times when his thoughts became so vivid he ran the risk of ruining his pants, and he looked around to make sure that no one had noticed where his mind went. The images he saw were so real, and so familiar that he would have sworn they were memories somehow. And the way he saw them was different too because they felt as if they came to him from an outside source— almost similar to how Rhysand would talk to him, mind to mind.

Mor’s delicate golden brows furrowed as she lost herself in thought. Azriel could practically see a faelight go off in her mind at the way her expression brightened. She started digging through the books, flinging some over her shoulders which his shadows had to catch. Eventually, she found what she had been looking for, and started flipping through a blue leather bound book that was in much better shape than the others. A smile spread across her face as she read a passage.

“Here.” Mor said as she handed the book to him, an unusual gentleness of her face.

Azriel accepted the book. His body went unnaturally still as he looked at a section entitled “The Bonds of The Mother”. His hazel eyes churned as he studied every word.

Not much is known about the bonds crafted by the Mother other than the fact that they are rare. While bonds of the Cauldron often are matches of strengths and more often than not created to ensure the continuation of the fae race, it is speculated that a bond created of the Mother shows a pairing of two souls perfect for each other. Two fae that are bonded by the Mother were created for each other, complimentary in every way, with their souls destined to find each other. Soul Bonds, which is the proper name of a bond the Mother creates, appear as a silver-blue light; they are only in place when both fae accept each other completely and wholly. One aspect of the Soul Bond that distinguishes it from the Mating Bond, is that both fae must accept some form of nourishment in order for the bond to be fully accepted. The Mother, having dominion over females, may cause the soul bond to have a more physical effect on females than males, which also separates the Soul Bond from the Mating Bond. It should be known that the acceptance of a Soul Bond nulls any other bond that may or may not be present, while it is highly unlikely it is possible to have multiple Mating Bonds which is not so for Soul Bonds. The acceptance of a Soul Bond nullifies any bond or spell which may connect two fae.

“Azriel!” A cheerful voice disturbed his reading. Azriel looked up, slightly annoyed at being interrupted, to see a familiar red-head poker her head around a bookcase. “Did you come to visit me?” Gwyn shot him a smile — one that he was sure would have been charming if he didn’t have a soul bond. She stepped into view.

He had a soul bond.

The shadowsinger shook his head and said, “I have to leave. May I take this with me?” He asked in a rush. He had to get Elain and let her know, a small wave of trepidation passed through him as he thought of how she reacted to Lucien and the mating bond. Azriel sent a prayer to the Mother, please, please let Elain accept the Soul Bond.

“Of course,” Gwyn said with a small frown. “You’re leaving so soon?” Her teal eyes finally looked at what aisle he was in and understanding dawned on her face.

“I’ll be here,” Mor chirped from behind Az. “Cleaning up so Lover Boy can go find the love of his life. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure he owes me big time.”

Azriel stood there anxiously, just wanting to deal with Mor and Gwyn later, he had to go see Elain. As soon as Gwyn stepped out of the way Azriel left — determined to find his perfect half.

#elain archeron #elain acotar #elriel fanfic #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain x azriel #elriel #azriel #after the ceremony #after the ceremony chapter 4 #my fanfiction #my work

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glossvante · 4 years

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Behind Closed Doors 01

Rated: M | 18+

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: High school/Step-Siblings, Explicit smut.

Word Count: 5.1k

Part: One | Two |

Warning: Step-siblings, Explicit & graphic sexual content, Alcohol consumption, Language

Summary: After moving to a new city, a rager of a party and an intense, all consuming, mindless fuck with a tall dark stranger seemed to be exactly what you were craving. A one night stand never hurt anyone, right? Until of course, that stranger turned out to be your new step brother.

Note: I’ve been looking for a new step-sibling Jungkook fic for a while and couldn’t find one so I decided to write it myself sdjkdjfjk. This chapter is more setting up the rest of the story but I hope you guys like it! Also, the other bts members make brief appearances as the story progresses, as well as a few blackpink girls. I’m newer to tumblr so if you like the fic please show some love & some feedback and I’ll upload part two soon. Love you guys and hope you enjoy ;).

Part One

You realized your room had turned into somewhat of a shit show while getting ready, as per usual. Nothing you couldn’t fix later though, you had enough on your mind right now. You were mildly panicked while getting dressed because you had to look at least somewhat attractive tonight. It was the first party you’d been invited since you moved here 3 weeks ago and you wanted to make a good impression. Moving away, changing high schools and leaving behind all your friends in the middle of the year wasn’t the most ideal situation for you, to say the least. You tried as long as you could to avoid accepting the reality of everything but the first day of school is when it really hit. Considering the fact that your last school wasn’t even half as big or well-funded as your new one, it was an adjustment figuring everything out. You were anxious about not knowing a single person the entire day until you met Lisa and Jennie in physics. The three of you guys sorta just clicked and became friends with ease. They showed you around and it relieved some of your social anxiety to know that there were at least a few cool people here.

Earlier in the day, Jennie texted you, inviting you to a party at her ex-boyfriends place. You hadn’t met him yet and were slightly confused as to why Jennie parties with her ex but she explained that her and Taehyung were cool with each other now. She also mentioned that pretty much everyone else in your senior class was going to be there too. Hence why you needed to look hot as fuck.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, deciding wether or not to change your outfit for the third time in the past 10 minutes. Yup, you needed to. You lifted the dress off of your body with a sigh and returned to your closet, hoping to find anything remotely cute at this point. Shortly after making another mess, you came across an old satin black dress. You picked it up and held it to your body, wondering if it would still fit, it had been a while since the last time you wore it. It couldn’t hurt to just try it on, you thought. You slipped the dress on over your head and adjusted it to your body before reaching towards the small of your back, praying to God it would zip up.

Finally, you were able to get it closed. You turned your body at all angles in the mirror to get an extensive view of your look. The dress had become a bit too form-fitting and an maybe an inch too short on you over time but you looked...good. Finally, you thought, you could work with this. You knew your mom would never let you get away with it though. To compromise, you decided to throw a sweatshirt on over the dress to cover up, at least until you left the house. You threw your lipgloss, phone, and all the necessities into your handbag and rushed downstairs to say goodbye to your mom.

You opened her rooms door and stuck your head in, shocked to see her getting ready to go out as well. “Where are you going?” You asked, confused. She didn’t mention she had any plans. “John invited me out. He said it’s a surprise.” She said excitedly, with half of her attention focused on styling her hair. “Again? The same guy?” You asked. After your parents divorced when you were young, your mom became somewhat of a serial dater. No one guy was ever right for her or stuck around long enough. If you were being honest, you stopped keeping track of your moms love life a while ago. “Yes the same guy.” She replied with a slight attitude. You were taken aback by that, this had to be the longest she’s been consistently seeing one guy. You knew she was glad you guys were able to find a house in the area, so she could see him more often but you didn’t think much of it at the time. Maybe she was finally starting to get serious with someone. You hadn’t met him yet but now, you were starting to get curious. “Alright, I’m gonna go but have fun on your date.” You replied getting ready to turn and leave. “Wait, you’re hanging out with Jennie tonight right? Tell her I say Hi.” She said. You almost forgot for a moment that you lied to her about the party. So what if she thinks you’re going to a girls night out with Jennie? You figured the less she knows, the less she’ll worry. And technically speaking, you weren’t really lying to your mom, you actually were going to hang out with her tonight. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. “Yeah, uh I will. See you later! Love you!” You said. “Okay bye, love you!” She replied as you left, shutting the door behind you.

You almost thought you had the wrong address when your gps began taking you up into the hills. Even though you were new to the area, you knew only rich people lived up here. Your jaw dropped when you finally pulled up to your destination, going back to your texts to make sure you put the right one in. It was a massive house, like some shit you’d see in a magazine or on TV. Jennie’s ex must be rich rich you thought to yourself. There were a bunch of cars parallel parked on the side of the street, so you pulled in and did the same. It really did seem like everyone was here. You quickly checked yourself in the car mirror, reapplying your lip and fixing your hair before heading inside. You could hear loud music pour out of the function as soon as you stepped out of your car, thankfully there weren’t many other houses nearby to complain about the noise. One of the many perks of living in luxury you supposed.

Your anxiety started to kick in as you headed in through the front door with a few strangers, losing them in the crowd as you entered. Woah. You definitely didn’t go to parties like this at your old school. Red neon lights saturated the air in every room, a dense cloud of smoke lingered above the crowd and the music followed you wherever you went. You tried to take it all in as made your way through the crowd hoping to find a single recognizable face. You walked through the living room and entered the kitchen, shocked by how many bottles of alcohol were just laying around, expensive ones too. You poured yourself a diluted mixed drink in attempt to calm your nerves.

“Y/N!!!!!” You heard you’re name in a high pitched scream from behind you. It was Jennie, she jumped up and gave you a hug from behind. “I was looking for you! God you scared me.” You admitted with a laugh. “Oops sorryyy.” She apologized, she was entirely too giggly and spoke with a slur. You could tell she was a few drinks ahead of you. “You look so hot tonight what the fuck?” She exclaimed, a too little loud. “Thanks.” You said with a smile, flattered by the compliment. “What are you doing?” She asked looking down at your cup. “You need a shot! Not whatever this is. Do one with me!” She pleaded, you considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna get too drunk.” You explained. She rolled her eyes at that. “Okay bitch, first of all why not, and second of all come on! A couple shots never hurt anyone.” You saw the look on her face, Jennie could be pretty convincing when she wanted to be. Fuck it right? After all, you were at a party. “Okay fineee.” You agreed reluctantly. She was ecstatic at your response, immediately reaching for a dark liquor and pouring both of you a shot. You clinked glasses before taking them down, feeling an immediate bitterness in your mouth and a warmth in your chest. “That tastes like shit.” You told her, wiping a drop from your lips. She laughed at that. “Trust me you can’t even feel it after a few.” She poured another shot for you and herself. You both braced yourselves and took it back. She lied, the second one definitely tasted worse. You cringed from the taste. “The faces you make are too funny.” Jennie teased while laughing. She reached for the bottle one more time and started to pour another round. “Are you trying to get me drunk? Cus if you want me or something just say that.” You said, trying to holding back your laughter. She shoved you in response, only mildly amused by your words. “I hate you.” She handed you the last shot and you both took it down.

No Idea by Don Toliver began playing loudly from the speakers and Jennie screamed in response. “Ah! I love this song! Dance with me?”Jennie asked, extending her hand to you. You rolled your eyes before taking it, allowing her to drag you to the living room. You weren’t exactly a talented dancer, like Jennie, so usually you’d feel a bit awkward while dancing but that wasn’t the case tonight. Maybe it was just because the crowd was so live or the music was thumping or those shots you just took, but you were feeling right. Jennie put her hands on your waist and pulled you closer to her, guiding you into the rythym. You both moved as if your bodies had synced with the music, dancing all over each other. For a moment it felt like you and everyone else in the room were on the same wavelength. While dancing, you locked eyes with a guy leaning against a the wall, a distance away from you. His eyes were dark and peircing, shaded by long locks of his jet black hair. He took a sip of his drink and a slight smirk crept onto his face as he realized he’d caught your attention, as if he’d had his eyes on you for a while. You kept your focus him on while you were dancing, observing him as he gave you a long look from your head to your toes.

In the midst of the moment, the two of you were interrupted by Jennie. “There’s no fucking way.” She said, shocked. You quickly turned your attention to her, wondering what she was talking about. Her smiled had faded and her body stilled as she looked at something in the crowd. As if she had seen something she wished she didn’t. “Jennie.” You said concerned. You tried to follow her line of sight to see what was going on, scanning the room. “What’s wrong?” You asked loudly, leaning into her. “Fucking Taehyung.” She gestured towards a far corner. You turned to look, only to see a guy you assumed to be Taehyung with his tongue halfway down some girls throat and his eyes on Jennie. He winked at her, like he was glad that she had seen. Gross. You couldn’t help but feel shitty for her. Guess everything with them wasn’t cool after all.

“I’m sorry. Fuck him.” You said loudly, trying to console her over the sound of the music. You could see she was hurt but she hid it behind a wall of anger. “Two can play at that game you know.” She replied calmly. “I invented that game.” You hadn’t really seen her like this before, she was lethal and you could feel it. She pulled away from you. “I’ll be back.” She shouted. “Wait what? where are you going?” You asked, worried about her. “I’m fine I just have to do something. I’ll find you later okay? Sorry!” She said, before walking away, leaving you in the middle of the crowd. You didn’t fully believe her when she said she was fine but if she wanted some time alone, you were gonna let her have it. It didn’t stop you from worrying though.

You sighed before shuffling your way out of the living room and to a quieter spot against the wall. You pulled out your phone to check it. You sent a few snaps to some old friends and a text to update your mom so she wouldn’t worry. After that, you headed back into the kitchen in search of something to drink that wasn’t hard liquor. All that dancing made you thirsty. You opened the fridge, allowing the light from inside to pour out, mixing with the neon red tint already in the air. You bent over to look inside for a water bottle, juice, or even a godamn soda. After shuffling some things around, you came up dry. All you could find was extra beer. Did these people only drink alcohol? You shut the door of the fridge in disappointment and turned to walk away, only to be stopped by the view in front of you. The same eyes you spotted from a distance earlier were now right in front of you. You studied all of him for a moment, just now being able to get real look at him. He was leaned against the kitchen island coolly, looking right at you. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was attractive, in pretty much every single physical way there was. You found yourself admiring his style and shiny silver rings over his black ink tattoos. You nearly let yourself get lost in his picture before the thought occurred to you. How long had he been standing there? You immediately felt timid, realizing that if he was there for long enough, he for sure had a perfect view of your ass while you were bending over in the fridge. Now was probably a good time for you to stop starting at him say something, like anything.

“Hi.” You said, regretting it immediately. Hi? Really? In your defense, it was all you could get out in front of his naturally intimidating presence. At least you broke the silence, you thought. “Hi.” He responded with a soft smile on his face. “How come I haven’t seen you around here before?” He inquired, taking a sip from his red solo cup. “I uh.. I just moved here a couple weeks ago.” You explained, wondering why he had taken a sudden interest in specifically you. “Ah that explains it.” He said nonchalantly. “Explains what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Why we haven’t hung out before.” He finished. It was obvious to you he meant more with his words by the look on his face. “So is that why you were watching me earlier? You wanna ‘hang out’ with me?” You teased, being thankful that alcohol gave you more courage than you ever would have sober. He chuckled at that before taking a step toward you. You notably felt your heart rate increase. There was a part of you that wanted to take a step back, increasing the space between you two but you ultimately ignored it. He leaned into you to speak in your ear, just loud and close enough so you could hear his words and feel the warmth on his breath on your neck. “You know why I was watching you dance, just like I know why you’re still standing here, talking to me.” He withdrew slightly, now facing you. His focus shifted from your eyes down to your lips for just a moment before returning. Fuck. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t melt a little right there. He was confident if anything, and nothing turned you on more. You could smell the alcohol on him, his lips still wet from his most recent sip. Lust and drinks were dangerous combination and he seemed determined to get his fix.

”So what are you going to about it?” You asked calmly, faking just enough confidence to pretend like he didn’t have you dying inside. A devilish smirk appeared on his face as if he were playing out the answer in his head. You could feel yourself get warmer, your cheeks had to have been noticeably red by now. You had an overwhelming feeling he could see right through you. He didn’t give you an answer and instead, pulled away returning to his drink, seeming all too satisfied with himself and his effect on you. “Hey!” You heard a voice call out to you from a distance, both of you turned to look at the source. It was Jennie, finally returning. Worse timing just didn’t exist, you thought. She gestured at you to come near her and you nodded in agreement. Hesitantly, you pulled away from the kitchen but not before sharing one last loaded look with those dark eyes, as if there was more to be said, more to be done, and not nearly enough hours in the night for any of it. He let you leave without a word, and the interaction lingered fresh in your mind.

You walked up to Jennie. “Hey! Where’d you go?” You asked. “I kinda did something bad.” She admitted. You were instantly curious and slightly worried at the same time. “Don’t scare me, what happened?” You asked. She hesitated a moment before answering. “I kinda... blew Tae’s best friend. In his bed.” She laughed, covering her smile with her hand. What? You were wondering if you heard that right. “No you fucking didn’t. Who?!” You inquired in awe, shocked but impressed at the lengths this girl would go to for revenge. You made a mental note to not get on her bad side. “Jimin.” She pointed him out in the crowd so you could put a face to the name. “He’s always had a thing for me so it was easy.... and quick.” She joked, now making you laugh, you shook your head, still in a state of disbelief. Okay so obviously, Jennie wasn’t the best at dealing with her hurt and her & Taehyung definitely didn’t have the most healthy relationship but they’ve been on and off for like two years now, you figured they’re probably used to shit like this. And even if you didn’t completely agree with her method of revenge, Taehyung had it coming. You knew she was on one tonight, already hurting, and you figured it’d be easier just to be supportive. “Honestly, he kind of asked for it when he made out with that bitch in front of you.” You pointed out, she laughed at that. Your smile faded as you looked to your left to see a more-than-pissed-off Taehyung walking towards you two. Looks like news traveled here, fast. “Jennie.” You gestured towards him to let her know he was coming, by the look on his face it was obvious he knew. “Here come the fireworks.” Jennie announced under her breath. He walked up to you both, sparing you a moments glance before grabbing Jennie by her arm. “What’s up babe?” She asked casually. He wasn’t having it. “We need to talk.” His voice was so low it was kind of scary, he pulled her to the side and she went along, only with some resistance.

Once again, you were on your own. You decided to find a bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit in the mean time. Unfortunately, all the ones downstairs were occupied or had muffled moans from behind the door. You decided to head upstairs, hoping to find an unoccupied one there. Most of the doors were locked, storage, or closets. You were close to giving up before you found a room at the end of the hall was empty and unlocked. A bedroom. You didn’t think anyone would mind if you used the mirror, so you walked in real quick and did. You rearranged your hair and reapplied your lip gloss.

As you were finishing up your last coat of gloss, you heard the door creak open behind you and shut. You immediately turned to look, surprised to see the same guy from earlier. “Hi.” He said with a smile, leaning against the door. “You stalking me now?” You teased, putting the gloss back into your handbag and setting it on the side table near you. “Can you blame me? We didn’t get to finish our... talk.” He said, locking the door behind him. With the sound of that click, it became clear your meeting had a different context. You could feel the atmosphere in the room change to become... heavier almost. He approached you, deleting the space between you with each movement. It also didn’t help that you already had your back against a wall, there really was nowhere to go this time. You swallowed a lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there to begin with. “You know...” He began, getting closer to you now than before, “I can’t stop thinking about you in this fucking dress.” He spoke lowly. You saw his lust-filled eyes staring back at you as his hands reached down to your waistline, tracing the edges of your body. You felt chills follow as his hand found its way from your hips down to your outer thighs, lightly grazing your ass. “Yeah?” You asked, at a loss of words due to your proximity to him. You were rendered practically helpless to his touch, there wasn’t much your body allowed you to do in his presence except submit to his will. “Yeah.” He replied. Once he reached the lower hem of your dress he let himself teeter at the edge. You bit your lip, maintaining eye contact, knowing what you craved at your core, praying he knew too.

He let hands linger on you a moment before he slipped two fingers under the lower band of your dress, you immediately felt the coldness of his hands against the soft skin of your outer thighs as he lifted the fabric slowly, just high up enough to have access to you. And all you did, was let him. He placed a hand at your center, feeling the wetness that had soaked through your panties. You blushed, embarrassed at the wet mess you’d become throughout the night. “Fuck, you’re so wet...” He said, speaking in a tone much lower than before. “...all for me?” He asked. It definitely was. The built up tension mixed between you two was enough to get you there. You were flustered by his practically immediate hold on you, all you wanted to do was anything he wanted you to. All you wanted to say was everything and anything he wanted to hear. “Mmhm.” You nodded, your faces closer than ever. He seemed satisfied with your response because in turn, he gave you the friction you were craving. Your breathing became unsteady as he let his hand grind against you outside the fabric of your panties, pressing his middle finger into your slit with the perfect amount of pressure. He created just enough need burning inside of you for you to know it wasn’t nearly enough. He enjoyed teasing you, it was all over his face. You needed more. You craved more.

And as if he could read your mind, he finally slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your panties and stimulated your clit with his bare hand. You let out a a whine as he felt all of you, high off the sensation of skin to skin contact. Every warm and wet bit of you was in his hands. “Fuck.” You said breathily. He moved softly, in small circles at first, setting every single one of your nerve endings on fire. He could see the satisfaction in your face, you couldn’t hide it even if you tried at this point. He increased his pace, hearing the sounds of your scattered whines and whimpers gradually increase in volume. He was relentless, reaching the most sensitive parts of you and exacting completely and utter pleasure. His forehead rested against yours as your eyes shut in pleasure. It felt as if there was some overwhelming magnetic pull drawing you into each other, you couldn’t really tell who leaned in first as your soft pink lips collided desperately with his. You moaned into his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, gliding perfectly against yours in a heavenly rhythm. You felt a kind of intimacy within the kiss that was rare to you. Of course he was a good kisser, like really good.

You lightly bit his lip as he slipped a finger inside of you. It was as if kissing you only set him off more. You adjusted to him with ease considering how wet he had you before even touching you. He began pumping in and out of you, creating a new sensation only adding to the hopeless mess you’d become due to him. He moved inside you at the perfect angle. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his for a moment so you could catch your breath. “Please.” You moaned softly, stunned with pleasure. “Please what?” He asked sternly, as if he wanted you to use your words, describing the sensations you were feeling, how he made you feel. “Please d- don’t stop.... please? It feels so fucking amazing.” You pleaded, feeling your impending climax within reach. He inserted another finger in you, curling them both inside you to hit your sweet spot with every pump. Fuck. That was it. How did he seem to have every inch of your body figured out already? In response, you, without consciously realizing it, began grinding your hips into him hopelessly. Your mouth opened in pleasure.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked lowly, studying every part of you, he was so enamored with the moment, there was nothing in this world that could pull either of you away from this. You were almost too high off him to respond, but you nodded frantically as another moan escaped your lips. “Yes.” You admitted. You could feel your orgasm nearing as you slowly lost your others senses. “You’re gonna cum all over my hand?” He asked, moving himself faster somehow, you didn’t think it was possible. “Fuck, yes.” All you could feel now was him, pushing you to the edge, moving his fingers to penetrate inside of you at a pace you’d never felt before. “Cum for me.” He ordered, ready to witness you fall apart in front of him, all because of him. You obeyed, feeling a wave of euphoria crash into you and travel to the depths your body, cumming hard. Your cunt pulsated around his fingers as your body trembled in complete physical pleasure. This had to be heaven. The only thought in your head while you were in the clouds? You wanted more. How could you still crave more?

When you opened your eyes, returning back to planet earth, your breathing returned to normal again. All you could see was him in front of you. Those dark eyes were filled with want. You let your eyes trail down to the bulge between his legs. His cock was begging to be released from the restraining fabric of his clothes. Poor guy, he was so focused on you the whole time, he needed immediate relief. You slowly reached your hand down to the waist band of his pants. He didn’t make a single movement, as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of you. You slipped your hands underneath his pants, tracing the length of him from outside his briefs. He was so fucking hard. You wondered how he managed to fight the urge to turn you over and fuck you right there against the wall.

You dropped down to your knees and lowered his clothing, allowing him to reveal all of himself to you. You looked him in the eyes as you let your tongue wet the underside of his cock until it reached the head. He watched intently as you let your tongue slide across his slit before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hypersensitive head. Teasing him, just like he did you. You heard a suppressed moan from deep inside him. That was enough to motivation for you take all of him into your into your mouth. The warm wet softness surrounded him as your mouth fit tight around his cock. You heard his breath hitch. The sight of your face on him mixed with the sensation, it was just enough to drive him crazy. He was leaking with so much precum, you could taste it. He slowly began rocking his hips into your throat. You felt him sink into further and further into pleasure with each thrust. He threw his head back as you finally took him deep into your throat. Holding your breath, you rocked yourself back and forth on his cock. The soft tightness of your throat bobbing up and down on the head of his cock was overwhelming enough for his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuckkk.” He moaned breathily, it was obvious he was already close to his limit.

“S-stop.” He said hesitantly. You ignored it and continued, determined to make him cum as hard as you just did. “Don’t make me cum. I-...” He paused what he was saying, distracted by the wave of pleasure he felt as you took him deep into your warm throat again, disregarding his words. “I’ve been dying to get inside you all night.” He admitted breathily, in attempt to get you to stop sucking his cock so he could stuff it inside you instead. Your insides throbbed at the thought of it. Although you wouldn’t mind having him inside you, like at all, you knew he was close to riding out his orgasm and you wanted to see the look his face when he came, from this angle. You looked up at him innocently and kept going. He tried to back up slightly, but you didn’t let him. “Fuck.” He said under his breath, tired of trying so hard hold back his release. Everything he was saying went out the window as he gave into his most primal desires, rocking his hips into you, chasing his orgasm, and contradicting himself once more. “God you feel so fucking good.” He mumbled as his thrusts gradually became sloppier and more desperate. He reached a hand down to entangle in your hair, pushing himself deeper into you as his body tensed up and stilled. He let out a moan as he came down your throat. You could feel the warmth of the large pool of cum in you, you swallowed it all cleanly.

He pulled out of you once his orsgasm faded. Seeming satisfied that you swallowed. You stood up and cleaned off your mouth, and readjusted your dress. Assessing how bad the damage was to your appearance from what you two had just done. He put himself back in his pants and did the same in the mirror. There was an kind of afterglow that surrounded the both of you. You looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Sorry I didn’t stop.” You said with a smile, realizing afterward that you probably should have. He returned a smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. You can make it up to me next time.”

He left you with those words and exited the room. You found yourself wondering what he meant by “next time” and if there would be one. How could there be? You didn’t even know the guys name, or number, or anything substantial about him really. You shrugged it off, deciding not to think too much into it, sometimes a one night stand was just that. A one night stand.

End of Part One

875 notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

In These Walls

Colson finally writes a song about you, years after your whirlwind relationship. You come to his house to confront him, only to relive your favorite memories.

Request: “Hi, i was wondering if you could possibly write something about the background for "in these walls" song. Like it's a wrong time right person situation. Maybe like they split up and get together multiple times knowing that it's true love. And in the end after hearing the song reader leaves him for good and wishes him to be happy? But you could change any part of it, it just would be really nice to have a back story for this song.”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Adult content (It’s not full blown smut but it’s there), substance abuse, cursing, angst

A/N: I changed this request just a little bit, I hope you don’t mind. It’s the same concept it just ends a little differently. I had to take a little artistic liberty with the lyrics since some (a lot) of them were pretty ambiguous, but this is just my interpretation of the song.

A/N part 2: I really fucking loved writing this. I absolutely love this song and literally wrote like multiple plots for this. Also I was gonna keep it as the original ending but I had to do what I did (you’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 4897

Listen to the In These Walls

masterlist

You parked your car on the side of the street, taking in the all too familiar house in front of you. As you walked up to the door, you could already hear the party in full swing. For a second your heart fell, just a little. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed his parties.

Your hand grasps the handle to the front door, opening into the once familiar entryway hall, where the two of you had first met.

You walked up to the door with Ashleigh, trailing slightly behind her. “Don’t worry Y/N, they’ll love you. They have to.”

You chuckled, “You know me, Ash. These kinds of parties just aren’t my thing. I’m much better at working with rock stars than partying with them.”

Ashleigh rolled her eyes, opening the door. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You walked into the house, eyes wandering over the high ceilings and pristine decorations. You were slightly surprised that someone as infamous as Machine Gun Kelly had a place as clean as this.

“Kells! Slim!” Ashleigh called to two men, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your eyes landed to where her attention was focused, meeting the brightest blue eyes you’d ever seen. He walked over to you and Ashleigh, his friend following behind.

“Hey Ashleigh, this must be the new assistant you’ve been talking about.” The blue-eyed boy greeted your friend and boss, his eyes still focused on you. “I’m Kells, but you can call me MGK, Colson, whatever you like.”

You smiled, maintaining eye contact, “Nice to meet you Colson, I’m Y/N”

Your eyes traveled the house, just as they had that first day, landing on one of the jackets hung up by the door. You chuckled to yourself. Two and a half years later and he still had the same leather jacket that he had once so carelessly thrown on the floor of your hotel room.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Your head rolled back, giving Colson better access to your neck. Your hands made their way to his hair, running your fingers through his locks.

Colson’s teeth nipped at your neck, ripping a small whine from your lips. Colson smiled against your skin, mumbling, “Why shouldn’t we?” His hands reached for your shirt, pulling it over your head, and returning his lips to your exposed skin.

You suppressed your moans as best as you could as he moved lower, his lips sucking at your nipples. “I mean, technically you’re my boss.” Your hands pulled on his hair as he nibbled on the sensitive bud. “And if Ash found out she’d fire me on the spot.”

His mouth moved lower, pressing sloppy kisses to your stomach. “Then we just don’t let her find out.” He smirked, unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling them down your legs, smiling at your lacy light pink panties.

Your eyes dropped to the floor as you recalled that night, the night everything changed. The night you had fallen head over heels in love with the man in the leather jacket.

You laughed at the memory. Hindsight really is 20/20.

You stepped further into the house, nostalgia hitting you at every corner. As the extent of the party came into your vision, you spotted Dre in the middle of the floor, dancing with a bottle of Jameson in his hand, no care in the world.

The party on the tour bus was in full swing when you and Ashleigh finally got on. Dre and Irv were in the middle of the floor, dancing and jumping with a group of girls around them. Rook and Slim were in the middle of a drinking competition, with Baze judging.

You looked around the room as inconspicuously as possible, searching for the man whose arms you had woken up in that morning. Your eyes met his as Ashleigh handed you a cup with who knows what in it, but you were too distracted to thank her.

Colson was sitting on one of the couches, a girl on his lap and a drink in his hand. His free hand was wrapped around her waist as she whispered something in his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck. His eyes, however, were trained on you.

Against your better judgement, you downed whatever was in the cup, feeling the burn of the alcohol in your throat. You met Colson’s eyes again, a smirk on his face.

You walked over to Ashleigh, grabbing another drink. “What’s gotten into you?” She laughed. “You never drink.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the real reason you were eager to get drunk. “It’s our night off, right?” You laughed, raising your cup before drinking it.

You stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, trying to find the blue-eyed boy that you came to see. Your heart was racing as you leaned against the wall, suddenly anxious about what you were here to do.

As you searched the crowd, you saw Rook sandwiched between two girls in typical Rook fashion.

“Hey Kells, have you noticed something going on with Y/N?” The shorter boy got his friend alone, concern in his eyes.

Colson shrugged, unbothered. “Not really, why?”

“I dunno man, she used to never drink or smoke or any of that shit. Now I don’t think she’s been fully sober for like a week.”

Colson knew what was going on, but he couldn’t exactly tell Rook about it, Rook liked you too much for that. “I haven’t noticed anything. Maybe she’s just getting more comfortable with us. She’s probably fine.” He fed his friend lies, hiding the fact that you were trying to impress him.

To your benefit, it was working. Colson found you much more attractive when you weren’t so strung up all the time, and he made sure to tell you that every night when you were under him.

Rook sighed, “I mean, maybe. She just never seemed like this type.”

You hadn’t been to a party like this in months. After everything that had happened, you’d been trying to get clean. You’d been officially sober for 15 months.

Realizing that Colson was probably outside or preoccupied with someone else, you made your way to the bathroom further in the house, the one no one really knew about or bothered to use.

You’d been rushing around for the last few hours making sure everything was ready to go and as soon as you thought you could relax, Colson disappeared.

You were about to get onto the tour bus when Slim told you. You sighed in frustration, realizing you would have to find the man before anyone could leave.

You made your way through the venue and towards the greenroom that the boys had trashed earlier that night. You walked across the room towards the dressing room door, seeing as Colson wasn’t in the room.

You had been in the dressing room with Colson dozens of times, you never felt the need to knock. No one did. So, you thought when you walked in, you’d find him changing or packing his things up. Instead, you found him in a much more… compromising position.

The girl was on the counter, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure. Colson’s head was buried in her neck as he slammed into her. When he heard the door open, his head shot up, your eyes connecting. In that moment, all of the feelings you had for him left your body.

“Everyone’s on the tour bus and waiting for you so we can leave. Join us whenever you’re ready.” Your voice and expression were emotionless.

“Y/N wait.” Colson called as you turned and walked out the door. “Fuck.” He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and rushing after you. His hand grabbed your arm, stopping you and turning you towards him. “Y/N please, it’s not-“

“What it looks like? Funny.” You shook your arm from his grasp.

“Don’t get all mad about this.” Colson pleaded.

“Why shouldn’t I get mad about this Colson? We’ve been sleeping together every night for what, three weeks now? How many other girls have you had between then and now?” You kept your voice even, not showing how much you were hurting inside.

Colson rolled his eyes, “C’mon Y/N, you know that shit wasn’t serious.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. “Yeah, of course it wasn’t serious for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to people?” Your voice finally raised, “You make people feel so special for a little while, and then just when they think they have something real with you, you take it all away from them.”

Colson stood there, stunned. He wasn’t expecting you to be this upset. You continued, “And I knew when I met you that this would happen, I knew this was the kind of person you were. I guess I got so caught up in you I didn’t realize how stupid I was being.”

You studied Colson’s face, searching for any sign of a feeling in him. “This is ridiculous. I’m fucking ridiculous. I can’t believe I ever thought you and I would work out.” You let out a bitter laugh. “I told myself that even if it took forever, that me and you would be together, but I guess you didn’t feel the same way.”

The bathroom was clean, like most of the rest of the house. It was ironic, you would think that a band of boys would have a house that looked trashed, but these boys seemed to like the clean.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror, hands resting on the counter in front of you. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves. “You can do this, it’s just Colson.”

“You can do this, it’s just Colson.” You told yourself, looking at his contact in your phone. You’d run out of options at this point. You were desperate.

You clicked the call button, hearing the phone ring before the familiar voice picked up. “Y/N?”

“Hey Colson, it’s me. I-uh- I hate to do this but I really don’t have anyone else to call.” Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you collected your thoughts. “My roommates kicked me out and I don’t have anywhere to go. I know we didn’t end on the best note, but I’m desperate.”

“You can stay over here.” He didn’t question you, didn’t even hesitate.

“Thank you.” You sighed, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You made your way back through the house, hoping Colson would have rejoined the party-his party- by now. On your way you stopped at the door that had become all too familiar for you. Your door.

You took a deep breath, reaching out and turning the handle, pushing the door open. He hadn’t changed anything in two years. The same orange comforter covered the mattress, the same decorations hung from the walls. The only thing he had changed was the lamp, which you two had broken during your time here.

“Any luck?” Colson asked, pushing the door open.

You sighed, pushing your laptop away from you. “No.” You frowned. “No one is looking for a roommate and no one is renting anything within my budget.”

Colson sat on your bed, a sympathetic expression on his face. “You can stay here as long as you need. But if you need help looking, I’m always willing to help.”

“Thanks Cols.”

Over the last week that you’d spent at his place, things seemed to get better between you two. The feelings you once harbored for him seemed to have disappeared, and now you were content with being friends.

“Of course.” He smiled, his hand reaching out and rubbing your thigh.

Ok, your feelings for him were gone, but even you had to admit he’s the best guy you’ve ever been with.

“If you need anything, I’m here.” His smile was very suggestive, as was the emphasis he put on “anything.”

You leaned towards him, face very close to his. “Anything?” You whispered seductively, a smile spreading on your face.

“Anything.”

All it took was his voice and the look in his eyes for you to connect your lips. His were so familiar to you yet seemed like a distant memory.

He moved your laptop off the bed, climbing over you, his knees on either side of you. Your bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, both needing the other’s.

And that was the start of the best 6 months of your life.

You leave the room, a shiver running up your spine at all the memories Colson and you made in there with the lights off. You start making your way to the kitchen, deciding to move around the crowd and sneak through the hallway, passing the open garage door, where more partygoers were dancing around Colson’s purple Aston Martin.

The breeze flew through your hair as you flew down the street, a joint in your hand.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” You looked over at Colson, a smile on his face.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a hit and blowing the smoke in his face. “A surprise at 2 in the morning?”

He chuckled, glancing over at you. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d rather be doing?”

“I can think of a few things.”

“Well maybe we can try some of your ideas when we get there.” He smirked and you laughed reaching your hand out the window.

Your plan didn’t work as well as you thought, as the entryway to the kitchen was just as crowded as the one closest to the living room. You squeezed your way through, trying to find someone you knew who could tell you where to find Colson.

The club was dark and smoky. You had been drinking with Colson for about an hour when you made your way to the dance floor, stumbling over your shoes and shooting Colson a smile. You had asked him to dance with you, but he insisted he was fine watching you.

You used to hate the feeling of so many people so close to you, but since touring with Colson you’d grown accustomed to it. You didn’t like the feeling of foreign hands around your waist, however.

You knew they weren’t Colson’s, his hands were gentle, these were rough, gripping your hips too tight. You reached down, trying to push them off of you, turning around to face the stranger.

“Hi beautiful.” The guy was a few years older than you and he smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol.

“I’m not interested.” You smiled kindly, stumbling away from him. His hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back to him. With the high alcohol content in your blood, you couldn’t muster up the strength to push him off.

“You’re just gonna walk away from a man like that? I said hi beautiful.” The man’s grip was harsh, and you winced as it tightened.

“And she said she wasn’t interested.” Your chest lightened when you heard Colson’s voice.

The man looked up at Colson, realization hitting him. He let you go, raising his hands up in surrender. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girl. Maybe if she wouldn’t dance like such a slut, I wouldn’t have thought she was single.”

Colson took a step towards the stranger, pushing you behind him. “Excuse me?” He questioned, head tilting.

“Your bitch was the one dancing like sh-“ He was cut off by Colson’s fist connecting with his jaw, sending him to the floor.

“Colson!” You squealed, stepping backwards.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that, or any other girl for that matter. Motherfucker.” Colson moved away from the man, turning to you, and taking you in his arms.

“You didn’t need to do that.” You said softly, wrapping your arms around him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I just couldn’t stand to hear him talk about you like that. Needed to teach him a lesson.” You nodded into his chest before backing away and taking his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here.” You led him out of the club before security had the chance to throw him out.

As you made your way through the crowd you caught a short glimpse of a familiar red jacket.

“Cols?” You questioned, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror, his red jacket wrapped around your naked body. The man you’d been sleeping with for the past 5 months hummed in response, glancing over at you with a smirk on his face. “Why haven’t you ever written a song about me?”

You thought it was an innocent question. Even though you wouldn’t consider what you were doing a “relationship,” you two had been through enough shit together to warrant a song about it.

“Do you want me to write a song about you?” He questioned, his eyebrow raising.

You shrugged, looking away from the mirror and walking towards his place on the bed. “I just figured; you’ve written so many songs. None of them have been about me.”

He smiled, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. “I can work on something.” He bit his lip, taking in the view of you on top of him.

You pushed through the crowd, trying to find the jacket again. After pushing through too many drunk rappers than you should ever have to, you saw him. He looked different from the last time you saw him, but he was still Colson.

“Babe,” Colson’s head was propped up by his elbow on the bed so he could face you. You looked over at him, your face still glowing from your last high. Colson took you in, the way your hair fell on the pillow, the way your makeup was slightly smudged, the way the light hit you just right, making you look like an angel.

“I love you.”

You froze at those three words, your breath catching in your throat. You were racking your brain, trying to figure out when you guys went from friends with benefits to this and you couldn’t find one. You thought you were just having fun; you didn’t realize how serious things had gotten for him.

“Don’t say that, Colson.” You whispered, your mind traveling back to the night in the greenroom, when you swore you’d never let yourself be so vulnerable in front of him again.

“What?” His face scrunched in confusion as you sat up, bringing the sheet up to cover your chest. “I mean it.”

“Well then don’t mean it.” You said, climbing out of the bed and pulling your red panties up your legs, throwing your shirt on.

Colson sat up, watching you with sad eyes. “What are you doing?”

You sighed, turning to face him. “I’m sorry, Colson. I thou- I thought we were just having fun. I didn’t realize you felt.” You paused, taking a deep breath, and choosing your words. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”

His face turned to hurt, almost anger. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing for the last six months, Y/N?’

You bit your cheek, trying to keep a clear head. “I’m sorry Cols, I didn’t mean to lead you on I just didn’t realize what we were doing was that serious.”

“Are you serious Y/N? You think I just let all the girls I’m hooking up with stay at my house for six months? Do you think I go on drives to the middle of nowhere at 2 am for just anyone?”

“I don’t know,” You were trying to suppress the tears that were pricking your eyes as you realized that all the signs had been in front of you, and you had ignored every one of them. You had led him on worse than you’d ever thought possible. “I’m sorry, Colson, really. I don’t-“ Your head was spinning, and you couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a coherent sentence.

Colson had brought his hands up to his face, palms pressed against his temples. “God I’m so fucking stupid.” He mumbled to himself. “You know I didn’t sleep with anyone else after what happened in the greenroom? I couldn’t think about anyone but you. Y/N I would give up everyone- hell, I did give up everyone- for you. No one matters to me but you.”

It was like he was pleading with you at this point, begging you to love him back. The breaks in his voice and his sniffles told you he was crying, but you couldn’t feel anything. The world around you had gone numb, and it was all you could do to grab the rest of your clothes and walk out of the room.

“I have to go.” You whispered, wiping your tears, and looking at him one more time.

The last time you had seen the man in front of you, he was absolutely shattered. Now, looking at him, he seemed happy. You admired him as he laughed at something someone said, taking in the shape of his jawline that once was home to a number of your hickeys.

As if he could feel you looking at him, he turned his head, his eyes connecting with yours immediately.

It wasn’t until months later that you sorted out your thoughts. For a while you had pushed down all the memories and feelings you had about the situation, but after 3 months passed you realized how unhealthy it was.

You were spiraling, your memories being replaced with alcohol and drugs. It wasn’t until you were lying on the floor of your tiny apartment and wondering where you were that you realized just how bad you’d gotten.

You checked yourself into rehab a week later, getting help for your addictions and your mangled thoughts. You were finally able to understand your emotions and why you left.

It was two months later that you realized you had loved him too.

Colson’s happy demeaner sunk completely when he saw you, the gleam in his eyes disappearing.

“C’mon man, you can’t stay in there forever.” Slim knocked on the door, jiggling the locked handle.

Colson sat on the floor in your bedroom, a match in one hand and a cigar hanging from his lips. His eyes were red and puffy, his throat raw.

The first 2 months without you were the worst. He hadn’t realized he could feel so strongly about someone, and as soon as he came to terms with his feelings you left him. He finally started to pick himself up, but he could never let you go.

He tried to move on, he really did, but no one made him feel like you. And the way things ended between you didn’t leave any room for resolution.

He lit the match, lighting the cigar in his mouth. He inhaled the smoke, letting the flame burn itself out in his hand until he was left in the darkness.

You nodded your head towards the front door, asking him to meet you outside without words. He nodded, putting on a fake smile to say goodbye to the people he’d been talking to.

It was dark outside, so you stood under the streetlight outside his house. You dug your hands into your jacket pockets, biting your lip. Images of him flashed through your head as you waited for him. When he finally came out of the door, you sent him a small, sad smile.

“Hey.” You tried your best to not be awkward, but there wasn’t much you could do.

“Hey.” His eyes raked over you, taking in the changes two years had made on you. You had done the same thing, so you couldn’t complain.

“I heard your song.” Your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. You wanted to be strong but standing in front of him brought back all of the feelings you’d been trying to overcome. He nodded, looking down. “It’s really good.”

“Thanks.” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Listen Colson,” You took a breath, “I’m not here to try and get you back or anything. I just couldn’t stand to have all that shit out in the world and not resolve it.”

He nodded again, still looking at the floor. “Yeah, yeah I get that.”

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered. “I missed you as soon as I left.” You were hoping for any sign of acknowledgement from him, but you got nothing from him. “I got pretty bad after I left. I started doing all this shit to try and forget about all the shit I put you through, and I had to go to rehab. I got clean, I got help with all of it. And I realized you deserve so much better than me.” You felt tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s why I never.” You had to pause, leveling your voice. “That’s why I never came back.”

He bit his cheek, finally looking up to you. “And I know that not everything was my fault. We both made mistakes but after hearing your song I couldn’t just not tell you that.”

“I, uh, I shouldn’t have released that song. I didn’t mean to hurt you with it or anything.” You shook your head.

“You didn’t hurt me. I mean, it sucked to have that be the song you wrote about me, but it was honest. I think I would’ve been more hurt if you wrote me something dishonest.”

He smiled softly at you, “I mean, it wasn’t completely honest. I definitely didn’t write about all the shit I put you through.” You let out a soft breath, almost like a laugh. “I was an asshole when we first met. You didn’t deserve that shit. You deserve someone who’s gonna treat you right and not try to change you into someone you’re not.”

You smiled at him, a real smile. You went to thank him when he spoke again, “And I just wanna say that I really did love you, and I still do. I think I always will, at least a part of me. But I know it’s never gonna work out, I’ve accepted that. With all our history, it’d just be too toxic. For both of us.”

You nodded, “I love you too. I didn’t realize it until so much later, but I loved you then and I love you now.” You let out a breath. “But I agree, like I said I just wanted to lay this part of my life to rest. Finish it once and for all.”

Colson nodded. “Goodbye Y/N.”

You leaned off the streetlamp, “Goodbye Colson. I hope you find happiness; you deserve it.”

Watching you walk away for the third time, knowing it would be the last time, just didn’t feel right. The battle between his head and his heart was intense, but he knew if he didn’t chase after you now, like he should have all those times before, he would never get another chance.

“Y/N, wait!” He jogged to meet you at your car, grabbing your waist as you turned to face him. Without thinking, he pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t hungry, or needy, or angry. It was sweet, and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You didn’t realize just how familiar his lips would feel, even after 2 years. It felt like coming home. When he pulled away, you looked up at him through confused eyes.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hand still on your hip, the other reaching up to touch your cheek. “I’ve watched you walk away from me too many times to let you do it again.” You smiled softly, biting your lip out of nerves. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ever gonna love anyone else but you, and I can’t lose you, not now that I’ve got the opportunity to get you back.”

You turn your head towards his hand, pressing a small kiss to his palm. Looking into his eyes you saw a different Colson than the boy you knew two years ago. He was still Colson, but he was older, more mature, and so were you. He wasn’t pleading with you, he wasn’t begging you to stay. He was asking if you would. And in that moment you realized just how much you wanted to.

You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “I’ve never loved anyone else but you.” Your voice was a whisper, the words you said were only for you two to hear. You opened your eyes, staring into his as you continued. “And if you still want me, I’d really like to start over with you.”

Colson smiled, his forehead pressing against you as he nodded. You giggled, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’ve always loved hearing you laugh.” He whispered. You pulled him closer to you, capturing his lips in yours and tangling your hands in his hair.

When you finally let him go, you reached up to wipe your lipstick off the corner of his lips, resting your hand on his face and trying to convince yourself this was real. “You wanna come inside?” He whispered, head leaning into your hand.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #in these walls

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

nice (iii)

warnings: mentions of sexual content, cursing, hella flirting, these two cannot get enough of each other

wordcount: 7.2k

_______

The rest of the drive was easy - Sophie fell asleep three times, Rafe flicked her to wake her up and entertain him twice, and they stopped to take pictures along the coast when they got lunch in Montpellier, fumbling their way through “bonjour” and “merci” and pointing at the sandwiches in the display case that they wanted. When they finally made it to Nice, Rafe was ready to stretch and take a nap while Sophie was ready to jump into the ocean. So they compromised and went to the beach after dragging their suitcases to their hotel room, towels in hand.

Sophie let him nap for a solid fifteen minutes before she got bored and came out of the water, trying to convince him to come swim. Her method of choice consisted of sprawling on top of him with her hair and swimsuit still soaking wet, effectively jerking him out of his sleep - he just groaned and wrapped his arms around her to bring her tighter. “No.”

“Yes. Come play.” She nuzzled her head into his neck, then nipped at his skin.

“No, Soph, sleepin’.” He protested, a little grumpy, and kept his eyes shut.

“No you’re not, you’re awake now.” She grinned. “Come on, we can go to bed early tonight. You can’t still be jetlagged, that’s impossible.”

“I’m tired, I had to drive the whole way.”

“I would have driven.” She protested, scratching her nails lightly down his chest.

“Yeah, driven us off a cliff. Five more minutes.” He hummed, still not opening his eyes.

“No. Come swim now.” She urged, nudging her head a little higher so her wet hair dragged over his face. He startled, then lifted his head, scowling. “You’re being a brat.”

Sophie only smirked in response. “I can be worse. Come onnnnn, sleep later.”

He sat up a little, sighing. “You promise to actually let me sleep tonight?”

“I swear on my life. I’ll stick to my side of the bed and everything.” She nodded solemnly, rolling off him so he could stand.

“Alright.” He nodded, knowing she wouldn’t keep her promise, and hauled himself up, then offered his hand to drag her up too. She jumped up with an eager grin and he rolled his eyes. “You’re cute.”

“I know. Race you!” She started sprinting toward the water - he strolled leisurely behind her, taking his time to stride in once she jumped off the dock. He swam up underwater and grabbed her around the waist, making her squeal and shove at him. He was laughing as he bobbed up and started swimming, going with her out past the crest of the waves.

After a while of swimming and Sophie trying to float on her back without Rafe snatching her down from under the water, she reached out for him. “I’m tired. Carry me.”

“Wonder why, it’s not like you slept on the entire drive here.” He stretched out his hands toward her to pull her in.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” She asked him, swimming closer. He raised his eyebrows. “In France? Dunno, I always figured I’d visit Paris one day.”

“No, no.” She swam close enough to bump into him and grinned when he reached down and pulled her legs around his waist, so he was treading for both of them. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He smiled and bumped his nose against hers, beaming. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like...us.”

“Gonna have to elaborate more for me, Soph.”

She rested her arms around his neck and brought one hand up to play with the ends of his hair, getting longer by the day. “If you’d told me in high school, or even the start of junior year, that we’d be in love and on vacation together in France, just us - I’d say you were insane.”

“Hm.” He nodded, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It might have seemed a little out there, but.”

“But?” She prompted, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of his nose.

Rafe wrinkled his nose in response with a smile, then leaned forward and did the same to her. “I don’t know. I always kind of figured we might end up dating, at some point. Or at least we’d try something between us for a little bit. Didn’t you?”

She tugged on his hair, grinning. “Rafe Cameron, you presumptuous bastard.”

“Answer the question.”

Sophie shook her head. “Honestly, no. I thought you were just flirting with me to be mean, a lot of the time.”

He laughed, shrugging. “What can I say. We’re like magnets, Soph, it’s undeniable.”

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes and let go of him, pushing off to swim back to shore.

“What! It’s romantic!” He protested, swimming after her and grabbing her ankle to tug her back. She yelped, kicking in his grip until he let go. “You’re embarrassing!”

“You love me!” He was faster and able to keep up by her side as she swam back leisurely. She giggled, surfacing for air after a long stroke underwater. “I never said I didn’t.”

The two made it back to shore quickly and he wrapped his arm around her, keeping her close as they walked back to their towels. They hadn’t let go of each other since they’d reunited - she held his hand, or he had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, or she’d teasingly hook her ankle around his under the dinner table, sliding it up his calf until he shot her a warning glare. He reluctantly let go just to lay out the towels with a flourish, smoothing hers out for her. “Madame.”

“Monsieur.” She replied, grinning. He flopped down next to her and pulled his sunglasses on to nap again in the sun, while she pulled out a book and started reading. When he began to stir after a half hour of sleep, she glanced over at him. “Rafe?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever had sex on a beach?”

He was suddenly wide awake, whipping his head over to look at her. “Have I ever had what?” He repeated, sure he was going a little delusional. “What on earth are you reading?”

Suddenly she remembered the story that Brooklyn had told her when they first met, about the Bahamas, and shook her head. “No, actually, never mind.”

“No, no, wait, was that a suggestion or a question?” He prompted.

She shrugged, noncommittal, but she felt a familiar unease settle in her stomach. “Don’t really think I want to get arrested in France.”

He reached over and curled his hand around her ankle, tugging a little with a grin. “Who says we’ll get caught? It’s Nice, baby, half the people here are already topless. And you’re not, I should add, which is basically a crime of its own.”

She scowled, swatting at his hand when he teasingly pulled at the bikini string tied at her hip. “No, Rafe, it’s a bad idea. I shouldn’t have asked.” She couldn’t stop thinking of Brooklyn’s smug smile when Sophie had nearly choked on her wine after she called it “making love.” It irritated her to no end knowing that for nearly every first she’d have with Rafe, he had already had it with someone else.

“Hey.” He frowned, sensing her discomfort. “What’s wrong?”

She huffed a little, keeping her eyes trained on her book. “You did it with her. Right?”

“Her?”

Sophie wrinkled her nose. “Your ex.”

“Oh. That’s why you’re upset?” He slid her hand up her leg, trying to be reassuring. “We didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

“Have sex.” He paused, wincing as he corrected himself. “On the beach, I mean.”

“Oh.” She sat back a little. “Have you ever? On the beach?”

“Not on the beach.” He gave her a sly grin. “Not sure if I’d want sand in certain places, but I’m open to trying anything once.”

She set her book aside, rolling over on the towel to look him in the eye. “Was she your first?”

“Um. No.”

“Well?” She prompted.

He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a second to answer. “You remember Alexandra Harper?”

Sophie gasped, completely caught off guard. Of course she remembered Alexandra Harper - she’d gotten in a fight with her at school, in the locker rooms, when she was talking about how easy Rafe would be to hook up. “Her? Seriously?”

He shrugged, growing a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Senior year, some party at Top’s house.”

“Gross.” She shuddered, absorbing the information for a moment. “Okay, so how many?”

“How many...?” He repeated, unsure if he even wanted to venture into that territory.

“Yes. How many girls have you slept with? Or hooked up with?”

He paused, feeling like he was being set up for a trap. “What do you consider hooking up?”

Her nose wrinkled and she crossed her arms. “If she had your dick in her mouth. Or vice versa.” She paused, thinking. She wasn’t quite sure why she was pushing for this information, honestly, maybe it was just another test of trust - though that certainly wasn’t something she needed to test with Rafe, of all people. “I suppose fingers count too.”

“Do you really need to know?” He hedged, reaching for her hand to try and relax her a little, but she only budged away stubbornly. “Like, does it really matter if at the end of the day, I’m dating you?”

“Well, I suppose not, but. I’d like to know. Mine’s five.”

“Five!” He balked, not expecting as high a number. “I thought you said you’d only hooked up with one guy before me!”

“All the way, just two. Five if we’re going by my definition. Obviously you’re included in both.” She clarified primly, looking down her nose at him. “Go ahead. Your turn.”

“Fine, mine’s four. How many dicks have you sucked?” He frowned, growing more jealous by the second.

She blushed at his vulgarity and didn’t answer, just pushed her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose and picked up her book to read again.

He abandoned his towel and crawled on top of her, ignoring her noise of protest as he plucked the book out of her hands and set it aside. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.” He repeated, grazing his fingers up her side. She giggled, squirming under him. “Rafe, no!”

He grinned, repeating the action, and nipped at her collarbone, only regretting it a little as he tasted sunscreen. She tried shoving his head away, laughing as she hissed, “Quit, we’re in public!”

“Just tell me!”

“No! You’ll get a big head.” She argued, knowing she’d given herself away.

He paused, grinning. “It’s just me?”

She just shrugged and nudged at his shoulder, trying to get him off.

“Sophie.”

“Yes, it’s just you, happy?” She rolled her eyes as he puffed up a little in pride. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

“Because.” She blushed again, grabbing the book to cover her face. “I didn’t want you to think, like, oh, that makes sense.”

He laughed, reaching out and pushing her book down so he could see her. “You’re not serious?”

“I am! It’s a real concern, it’s like, scary when you’re face to face with one for the first time.” She insisted, laughing. “Especially yours, it’s bigger than I’ve seen -”

“You mean it?” He practically glowed, a little too proud of himself, and she kicked at his leg, rolling her eyes.

“Shut it. I just didn’t want to seem like I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“No, please, go on about how big my dick is.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes, swatting him with the book again. “You’re supposed to say you couldn’t tell that I was clueless.”

“Trust me, baby. There was absolutely no issue there.” He grinned, leaning back onto his own towel with his hands tucked behind his head.

She hummed, satisfied. “You said yours is four?”

He made a noncommittal grunt, pulling his sunglasses back on.

“Do I know them all?”

“You’ve met Alexandra, and Brooklyn, and this smoking hot girl from back home...” He started, trying to hide the grin threatening to tug at his lips.

She frowned, setting her book down again - at this rate, she’d read five pages. “Who? Did she go to my school?”

“She did.” He confirmed with a nod, still not looking at her. “Super cute. Can’t believe you don’t remember.”

“Do you have another descriptor besides just smoking hot? Where’d she go to college?” She scowled, wracking her brain to think of who else had dated him in high school - and why the hell was he describing anyone but her as smoking hot, after all these years -

“Ohio State.”

“Rafe Cameron!” She smacked him with the book, making him yelp. “Jesus, woman, watch it, I’ll bruise!”

“You asshole.” She accused, not meaning it in the slightest. “I hate you.”

“You don’t.” He grinned, grabbing her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. “The fourth was a touron, summer after freshman year of college. That’s all.”

“Oh, I hooked up with a touron once -” She started, and he held his hand out, shaking his head. “Nope. Don’t need to know.”

“But you just told me.”

“Because you wanted to know. The last thing I want to hear about is you with other guys.” He insisted, stealing her book away and tucking it back into her tote bag. In all honesty, he was kind of dying to know, but more so he could find all the boys and have a pointed conversation with them and figure out why the hell Sophie was so hesitant to commit to anything, ever, and what they’d done, but that was a topic for another day. “C’mon, let’s swim again. You’re looking red.”

“I should put sunscreen on again, probably.” She reached for her bag and he shook his head, standing and offering his hand. “Come swim. You’ll be fine.”

“Says you, looking like a tan Hercules out here, some fucking Greek god.” She scowled, accepting his hand and letting him drag her up. “It’s seriously unfair that you look like this.”

He grinned, chest puffed up proudly. “Go on.”

“C’mere,” she murmured, reaching up on her toes to kiss him. He kissed back for merely a second before lifting her up abruptly and hauling her over his shoulder, starting to run toward the ocean. She squealed, pounding on his back. “Rafe Cameron, if you don’t -”

The rest of her protests were abruptly cut off as he tossed her off the dock into the water, following with a graceful dive. He surfaced next to her, laughing as she came up sputtering. “Couldn’t resist.”

“Fucker.” She scowled, pushing her hair back into place.

He grinned and smacked a kiss to her cheek. “I have one question. Just one.”

“I feel like I’m not gonna like this.” She reached out and combed her fingers through his hair, trying to arrange it how she wanted.

“I’m the best, out of all five. Right?”

“The best boyfriend? Yeah, no doubt. I only dated two others of the five anyways.”

“No, not that.” He wrinkled his nose, feeling the little green monster of jealousy rise up again. “Like...sexually.”

“Oh.” She pretended to think for a long pause, longer than he expected, and he frowned. “Sophie.”

“Hold on, still deciding.”

“Sophieeee.” He whined, reaching out and circling his arms around her waist. “Tell me.”

“Well, there’s lots of factors, you see -” He finally caught the hint of a smirk on her lips and groaned, snapping her bikini string. “Stop, just say it.”

She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his ear as she spoke. “It’s you, dummy. It’s always going to be you.”

“Even if you sleep with Liam Hemsworth?” He grumbled. She made him watch the Hunger Games series once and he refused to watch it again, not wanting to hear her commentary again on how hot he was.

She giggled, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, loving how he automatically tipped his head back for more. “I don’t think that’ll be happening, baby.”

“Better not be.” He squeezed her butt under the water and made a small hum of appreciation when she pressed another quick kiss to the column of his throat.

“Someone’s desperate.” She teased and pushed away from him a little, making sure the water was deep enough to tread.

He raised his eyebrows. “You were asking how thin the hotel walls were earlier. I don’t think you have any room to talk.”

Sophie gave him a mischievous grin and glanced around the water, noting it was pretty sparse of a crowd. “Do you have pockets in your swim trunks?” She swam out a little further away and pulled slowly at the string tied loosely around her neck, holding up her top.

“Yeah, why -” His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as she let the bikini fall from her neck and untied the string on the back too, then swam close and handed it to him. “Here. I don’t want to lose it.”

“Sophie.” He uttered, a little strangled.

“Is there a problem?”

“Not at all.” He mumbled, not taking her eyes off her for a second. “Who are you?”

She frowned, swimming back toward him and crossed her arms over her chest, losing her faith in her bold idea by the second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this, the leather jacket, speaking a new language...” He struggled to explain it, thinking. “It’s like I’ve never seen you so confident before.”

“Oh.” She brightened, giving him a small, shy smile and a shrug. “It’s okay?”

“I love it.” He declared, giving her a grin in return. “I love seeing you like this, so sure of yourself.”

She wasn’t, not nearly at all, but his perception of her made her beam. “I’m trying.”

“You’re killing it. I’m proud of you.” Rafe held up the bikini top with a grin. “What happens if I lose this?”

Sophie fixed him with a glare. “If you lose it, I’m making you take off your shorts in solidarity. You’ll get a sunburn on your dick.”

He laughed loud, shoving her top in his pocket. “A sunburn on my dick, really? I think it’d be tan. Really complete the look.”

“No. I don’t want anyone else getting to see it.” She argued, swimming close enough to shove his shoulder lightly.

“Okay, so should you put your bikini back on?” He countered, trying his best to keep his eyes trained on hers and not anything lower.

“You just said you liked it -”

“I like your confidence, not necessarily other guys looking at you -”

“Well it’s not your boobs to decide about -”

“Alright, well it’s not your dick -” Rafe started and she raised her eyebrows, reaching down and palming him under the water. “We sure about that?”

He nearly groaned at the contact, pulling his hips back. “You cannot do that to me when you’re topless and we’re surrounded by people. You really can’t.”

“I’ll put the bikini back on before I get out of the water.” She offered, smirking at how easy he was to turn on.

“Deal. That thing you said earlier, about sex on the beach?”

“Yeah?” She cocked her head in question.

“I bet we could find a private spot…” He grinned as she rolled her eyes, almost immediately. “Oh my god, Rafe, I was just asking. If you’re that desperate I’ll fuck you before dinner -”

“Jesus Christ, Sophie, you can’t just say things like that.” He pressed his fingers to his temples and glanced up at the sky as if he was searching for an ounce of strength.

“Why not? I will. We can try the shower, it looked big enough for both of us. The bed was comfy too, though I don’t think I could get the automated curtains to close in front of the window - but hey, if you’re into that -”

“Fucking tease.” He bit out. “You’re being mean.”

“No, baby, being mean would be touching you and then not letting you finish.” She countered, trying her best to hold back a grin. “I’m never mean.”

“You are. You’re a brat sometimes.” He caught her around the waist and pulled her in, kissing her forehead. “But I love it.”

“Careful what you say, you’ll only encourage me.” She grinned and tipped her head up, catching his lips in a kiss.

______

As much as Sophie insisted they had to make the most of every minute of their vacation, she couldn’t deny that his argument of “I promise I’ll bring you back here” was compelling.

After a long afternoon out at the beach, they returned to their hotel to take a nap and get ready for dinner. His eyes widened when she stepped into the hotel lobby, finally out of the sun. “Um, Soph?”

“Yeah?” She felt a little queasy, and unreasonably hot still for being in the air conditioning.

He gently pressed his hand to her shoulder, surprised when she didn’t flinch away. “Does that hurt at all?”

“Not really. Why -” She cut herself off as she extended her arm, realizing it was on its way to turning red. “Oh my god.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Rafe reassured her quickly, but looked a little worried. “We’ll go run you a cold shower - well, maybe a bath - and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to reapply sunscreen - didn’t I tell you to remind me?” She lamented, sighing. He shook his head and gave her a small smile of regret. “No, but we know now. We’re doing your architecture tour tomorrow anyways, you’ll have just enough time to recover for our next beach day. Promise.”

He was full of promises, she’d learned, and he always kept them. Every single time. Sophie wondered sometimes if it was his way of compensating for failed relationships, like how his dad had always promised he’d be at his next basketball game, or he’d take him out on the golf course or come up for the next parent’s weekend. She leaned against him in the elevator, realizing she felt a little faint.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby.” He murmured, setting his arm around her shoulders and squeezing a little too hard, and she winced. “Ow, Rafe.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He carefully removed his arm and took the bag from her shoulder, deciding not to comment on the angry mark it left behind from burnt skin. He was glad he’d switched them from the hostel - as much as she had wanted to fight the idea, he was right that the luxury of their own shower and bathroom was worth it.

When they got into their hotel room, he instructed her to lie down, pop some ibuprofen, and then ran her a cold bath. Her eyes widened as she saw the marks left behind as she untied her bathing suit. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s okay! It’ll be fine. You stay here, and I’ll be back in - oh, twenty minutes. That’s all.” He nodded and kissed her forehead, letting her slip into the bath alone. He grabbed his wallet and phone before heading back downstairs, and he practically begged the front desk to buy a bottle of aloe lotion after-hours and the whole box of their complimentary black tea, then paid the janitor to give him a roll of paper towels. He made it back to the room in fifteen, knocking twice before letting himself into the room.

“Rafe?” Sophie called out, tentatively.

“Just me!” He called back, busying himself with heating up water to make the tea.

“I feel really shaky.” She confessed and he frowned, rushing into the bathroom. He placed his hand to the back of her forehead then dipped his finger in the water, nearly ice-cold as she’d turned up the temperature. “You might have sun poisoning.”

“You’re not serious?” She frowned, but grabbed onto his arm like it was difficult to sit up.

“Do you feel like you might throw up?”

“...No.” The hesitation in front of her answer was enough to tell him otherwise.

“Okay. Let’s dry you off and then we’ll see how you feel.” He held out the towel and helped her out, carefully wrapping it around her as she shivered. “S’okay, I got you. Sarah had this once, but I have a trick and you’ll be better tomorrow.”

“It’s unfair that you’re fine.” She grumbled, reaching up and pressing a finger into his muscled chest. He was a little pink, but that was all.

“I think I’ve been burnt enough that I’m used to it.” He reasoned, guiding her back into the room and had her sit down on the end of the bed while the tea was steeping in the fridge. “Can you pull on your underwear so you’re a little more comfortable?”

“Seeing me naked doesn’t do it for you anymore?” She quipped.

He rolled his eyes - if she paid more attention, she could see him half-hard in his loose shorts. “Not when you’re about to be sick.”

“Not gonna be sick.” She muttered stubbornly as she carefully pulled on a pair of underwear from her suitcase, then lied down on her stomach on the bed.

“Hope not.” Once the tea was strong enough, he pulled a decorative bowl from their nightstand table and dumped out the fake seashells, rinsed it, then poured in the tea. He started soaking paper towels in it then carefully wrung them out and laid them across her back, so they covered every inch of burnt skin.

“Where’d you learn that?” She asked, resting her head on her arms.

“My mom used to do it if we got burnt when we were little. It helps a lot.” He replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder when he finished and laid next to her so she didn’t have to crane her neck up to see him. “I’ll change them when they dry.”

“You haven’t told me much about your mom.” She told him hesitantly after a moment of silence.

He shrugged. “Not much to say. What’s your mom think of all this?”

She was a little disappointed he didn’t open up more, but got the hint - and she felt like she might throw up at any second, so maybe it wasn’t the time for a serious conversation. “All this?”

“Of our trip.”

“Ah. I think she’s jealous.” She grinned teasingly at him. “Always tells me how you’re the ideal match, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” Her grin faded a little. “I’m sure your dad thinks the opposite.”

“I don’t care what my dad thinks.” He told her, firmly, but all she could hear was the fact that he didn’t deny it. She nodded once. “Yeah. Okay.”

“You know, I think your dad and I really got along. When I was home, at least.” He told her a little shyly, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice.

She nodded, smiling. “He likes you. Thinks you’re cool.”

Her dad had said much more than that - he’d told Sophie that Rafe was a good kid, really respectful, a hard worker and he deserved this internship. He’d also asked, with a little too much eagerness to his voice, if Rafe would like to come home with her for Labor Day weekend, when they had their first little break in school, and would he like to come golf with him and Sophie? Also, if he and her mom came up for a football game, would Rafe like to hang out with them again?

She wasn’t quite sure if Rafe was ready for the “my dad wants to be your best friend” talk so she left it at “he thinks you’re cool.”

Rafe nodded with an eager grin. “That’s cool. He’s cool too, I mean. I like hanging out with him.”

“I’m glad.” She reached out her hand for him, locking her fingers with his. “I love you.”

“I know, angel. I love you too.” He beamed, the way he always did when she told him those three simple words.

“I’m happy my family likes you.” She told him, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the back of his hand. “Good for our future...our future us.”

He held back a smile but gave her an amused glance. “Our future us?”

“You know what I mean.” She scowled at him and he reached out and smoothed his thumb over the bridge of her nose, making her relax. “I don’t. Will you tell me?”

“I just mean, like, in the future. After college, what we’ll look like, you know? I’m just glad my family likes having you around.” She struggled to form a complete sentence, not sure how much she wanted to tell him - that she’d thought about being married to him and living with him, and just the little domestic things of sharing the day together.

He beamed, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “Future us…you mean getting married?”

She shrugged, trying to seem cool about it. “Yeah. I can see it.”

“I can see it too.” He grinned, wide. “Sophie Cameron.”

She blushed, biting her lip. “Okay, okay, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He laughed, unable to shake the bright smile on his face. “Are you feeling any better? You need water.”

“A little, yeah, I think the bath helped.”

Rafe got up and refilled her water bottle, handing it to her so she could take a few sips. “I got aloe from downstairs too, so I can help you put that on once the towels dry. I promise, your burn should basically be gone by tomorrow.”

“You’re too good to me.” She murmured, glancing up at him.

“Nah, you deserve it.” He grinned and pushed the water bottle at her again. “Do you need me to go find takeout somewhere? I don’t know if that’s a thing, but I can probably convince someone. If you’re not feeling up to going to get dinner.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine -” She pushed herself to sit up and suddenly squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a wave of nausea pass, curling into herself. He frowned and gently pressed her back down to the bed, then pulled the top layer of sheets over her where the paper towels weren’t. “I’ll go find something. Will you be okay here or do you think you might be sick? I can figure out delivery - well, maybe, I don’t speak any French -”

“Rafe. I’ll be okay, I can go.”

“No you can’t. Stay here, I’ll have my phone, call me if you feel like you might throw up and I’ll be back before you can blink.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No. You need to take care of yourself.” He set the water bottle by her side and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I want that empty when I’m back.”

“Okay, Mom.” She grumbled, but made no protest. Rafe nodded and left, not without another backwards glance to make sure she’d be okay.

He returned thirty minutes later with a pizza box in hand and a bottle of rosé tucked under his arm. “Success!”

“Impressive.” Sophie was upright now, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts that she’d stolen at the beginning of the summer. The color had returned to her face - the only part she’d remembered to reapply sunscreen on - and she’d chugged a bottle and a half of her water.

“You look like you’re feeling better. Doing okay?” He set the pizza box on the bed, despite her protest, and greeted her with a gentle kiss.

“Yeah, much better. I’ll need you to put aloe on me before bed though.”

“That can be arranged.” Rafe grinned and presented her with the wine. “Look. Only the finest for m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved at him with a grin. “Europe is making you a sap.”

“Nah, I just missed out on you this summer, so I gotta lay it on thick.” He uncorked the bottle and took a swig, then passed it to her. “Drink up. Not too much though, you’re still dehydrated.”

“How much was it?” She took a careful sip, then nodded, impressed.

“Only about fifteen euros.”

Sophie flicked open the pizza box and inhaled, grinning. “Excellent choice.” After a couple seconds on her phone, Rafe got a notification on his from Venmo. She’d sent him half for their dinner, like they’d talked about long before he was even in Europe.

“Soph.” He frowned. “What the fuck is this.”

She picked up a slice and raised her eyebrows, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Huh?”

“Trying to pay me for half?”

She swallowed and shrugged. “Yes, that’s what we agreed on, months ago.” (They hadn’t agreed, not in the slightest. She’d insisted she was paying for her own everything, he’d immediately said no, and the debate lasted about five minutes before she was taking her top off to end the conversation. She’d called him with other ideas in mind, anyways.)

“We didn’t agree, we left the argument unfinished because you were trying to distract me by getting naked on FaceTime.”

She smirked. “Yeah, and it worked, didn’t it?”

It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t kidding, that he was actually a little upset. “Sophie. I’m serious. I said I wanted to cover meals on this trip.”

She bristled, setting her pizza down. “And I said I wanted to split it. I’ve saved up for this, Rafe, let it go.”

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for you.” Despite his annoyance, he took a seat next to her on the bed and pressed his thigh to hers, always needing to be close.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand.” She muttered, not making eye contact.

“So explain it to me.”

She took a deep breath, knowing they were venturing into dangerous territory. “I don’t want to fight.”

“We’re not fighting. Just having a conversation.” He retorted back, with a little too much of an edge to it.

She hummed in affirmation, though she looked skeptical. “I’ve worked my ass off for this entire summer since I was eighteen. My freshman year, one time, I was about to break my budget just by buying a pack of Oreos at the store. So the fact that I’m even able to pay for this extra trip after my study abroad scholarship means a lot to me.”

“I know you work hard, I’m not discrediting that at all. I just -“ He let out a frustrated huff. “I don’t know why you won’t let me take care of you.”

“First off, I can take care of myself -”

“I know that, but I can still help you -”

She sent him a pointed look and he took a breath, letting her talk. “You just took care of me, with my sunburn and getting me dinner. That’s more than enough. I don’t need - or want - financial help.”

He mulled it over for a second, frowning. “But I have the money, Sophie, just let me help so you don’t have to stress.”

“I don’t want your dad’s money!”

A short silence hung in the air between them as they stared at each other, both a little in shock at her outburst. She blushed a little, embarrassed. “Rafe, I…”

“It’s a trust from both my parents that I just got when I turned 21. Does that make a difference?” He asked evenly, trying to keep calm.

“Not really.” She murmured, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry.”

“So the problem is my dad.”

Sophie grabbed the bottle of wine and took a sip, then handed it to him. “Is that really a surprise to you?”

He took a considerably large swig, then passed it back. “No. I’ve tried, you know that?”

She went to re-cork the bottle and he stopped her, taking the bottle back but handed over her water bottle. She gave him a grateful smile and took a few drinks, then nodded. “Yeah. I know you’ve tried, I saw how you tried at your Christmas party.”

“It’s just.” He leaned into her side, frowning. “He’s insistent that this is a fling, he forgets your name on purpose, he keeps talking about when I’m with someone more suitable and when I’m taking over the family business -" Rafe felt his throat getting tight and his voice growing shaky as he got more and more frustrated. “All I want is you. He doesn’t care that you make me happy.”

As much as she didn’t want to hear all of that, she knew it all already. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, combing her fingers through her hair. “I know you’re trying your best with him. He’s just not willing to listen.”

“I’m not going to let you go just so I can make him satisfied.” He was fully cuddled into her now, his hand wrapped protectively around her thigh and his head on her hip. “I’m not trying to pay for things to show off, you know -“

“I know, I know.” She affirmed, stroking her hand down his back. “I never thought that.”

He hummed, closing his eyes for a moment in bliss as she rubbed his back, then flipped onto his back to look up at her. “I’m just thinking, when we live together -“

She nearly choked on her water bottle and set it down, raising her eyebrows. “When?”

“I mean… yeah. I have that job offer with my internship for after graduation and you’re staying in Columbus for grad school, I kind of just assumed…” He trailed off, offering her a cheeky grin.

Sophie paused, considering. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Oh. You haven’t?”

“No, I, um.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts. “I kinda thought you were going to work for your dad and we’d have to do long distance again. I mean, you’d just always said that was the plan…”

“Right, that was the plan, but then you told me to try for the internship and I really liked it. Apart from, well, y’know.” He smiled up at her. “I actually think I could do more.”

She smiled back, proud. “Of course you can. I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. You want to live together?”

“Course I do. Don’t you?” He heard her stomach rumble and grinned. “Sorry to interrupt dinner. Hungry?”

“S’okay. I’m kind of starving, though, can we eat and talk?”

He nodded, sitting up and took a slice from the box. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She took her own half-eaten slice, taking a bite before responding. “I think I’d like to live together, yeah. It makes sense.” She paused, scowling. “My mom might kill me, but I bet my dad could convince her.”

“Your mom doesn’t like me?”

“No! No, not that.” Sophie excused quickly. “She likes you, a lot, but she grew up with super strict parents and I think she thinks we’re in separate beds this whole trip.” She smirked, nudging her knee against his. “It’s scandalous.”

“Oh, right.” He nodded, already going for another piece of pizza. “So...would we need to stick to your budget or mine?”

“We can split rent, something reasonable. When I get my real job, I’ll have a decent amount of money, just. Being a TA doesn’t pay too much. My parents help me a little with rent at school.” She considered. “If we need a little more for a better place, I can pick up another job or something.”

Rafe frowned, elbowing her. “I’m not going to make you work overtime when I can help us out.”

“We’ll come to that when we need to start looking for places in spring.” She dismissed and he grinned, glad she was fully on board. “Sounds good to me.”

“Baby?”

He beamed, loving the pet name. “Yeah, angel?”

“I don’t know if I want to know this, but. Do you know, roughly, how much you have in the trust?” She bit the inside of her cheek, hesitant.

He paused, mulling over his answer before responding. “Um, let’s put it this way. I could get away with not having a job.”

“Like...for a few years?”

“Um. No.”

“Oh.” She mumbled. “So you could get away with not having a job...ever.”

He nodded, offering her the wine bottle. “Yeah. But that’s why I’d like to spend a little bit more on you sometimes, because I will have a job. Obviously some of it is invested, and I’ll set aside a college fund for my kids eventually, but. I like treating you to things.”

She took a long swig from the bottle, grimacing after. “I know you do - fuck, that’s getting to me.”

Rafe laughed, taking it back. “I can tell, your face is getting a little red.”

“Shut up, is not.”

“Is too. C’mon, eat one more slice at least and then I’ll put the aloe on you, crispy.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, taking her third slice of pizza. “You gonna give me a massage?”

“Depends, do I get one too?”

“Only if yours is good enough.” She teased, kicking at him.

“Does mine come with a happy ending?” He grinned, laughing when she flipped him off. “I think if you touched my shoulders they might peel off completely.”

“Your mouth would be sufficient,” he quipped under his breath and she rolled her eyes, tossing her crust in the box and tossed the empty box toward the trash can on the floor. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re more.”

“Jerkface.”

He grinned. “Hot stuff.”

“Slam piece.”

“Smokeshow.”

“Sugar tits.” She giggled when his jaw dropped in protest. “I don’t even have -”

“Yes you do! You have a great rack. It’s hot, don’t worry.” She assured him, poking at his chest.

“Take off your shirt.” He reached over, tugging at the hem of it.

She rolled her eyes. “Rafe, I am not comparing the size of our -”

“No, dummy, I have to put on the aloe.” He rolled his eyes and held up the bottle. “Calling me a slam piece, honestly. You’re a brat.”

Sophie grinned and pulled off her shirt, trying to go slowly and be seductive but winced when it hurt to raise her arms. “Ow! Fuck, help.”

“Yeah, that’s what you get.” He teased, but smacked a kiss to her forehead anyways before helping her wrestle off her shirt. “You don’t feel sick, right?” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, then got behind her to smooth the cool lotion over her shoulders.

“No, I feel way better.”

“Good.” He grinned, nudging his nose against her cheek. “Hey. Guess what.”

“Mm.” She tilted her head back, trying to catch his lips.

“You’re my favorite.” He slid his hands down her arms, then tapped his finger against her ring. “Don’t forget it.”

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney @babeyglo

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #obx #outer banks #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #frat rafe #college rafe

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

Text

-Potter’s Sister- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

♡~🐍~♡

Request: Helloooo, I've got a super cliché request but if you're up to do it , great! So I like the idea of Draco secretly dating Harry's younger sister and Harry finding out about this in the worst way possible lol like them in a really compromising situation and he instantly becoming an overprotective jealous brother. That's it! Hope you like it. Have a great day💕

Kody- lmao i’m going to have a blast with this one. Also, Tumblr wont let me reply at the moment so i’ll make due doing request like this

Warning: Harry being Harry, Cursing, Draco being a possessive child.

House: Gryffindor

♡~🐍~♡

“Ron slow down, your going to choke!” Hermione shouts. The ginger rolled his eyes and continued eating. You laugh softly and go to pick up your fork when you spot a certain platinum blond Slytherin get up from his table and walk straight out the great hall.

you place your fork down and look at the three “I have to use the bathroom” you say and Harry instantly looks up from his plate. “Oh okay, are you feeling alright?” he questions, a worried glance on his face. You nod, smiling slightly and stand up.

“Perfectly fine. Just need to use the bathroom” you reply, tugging on a stand of your hair. You walk away from the table and out the great hall. Harry watches you for a moment before facing his friends “Your right Hermione. She was lying to me”

“How can you tell?” Ron asked, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. The chosen boy frowns slightly “She tugs on her hair when she does.” he explains and Ron nods slowly, understanding. They sit quietly for a couple seconds before Hermione hits the table, catching there attention.

“Well!? Go follow her!” she instructs, waving towards the great hall exit. Harry nods quickly and stands up in a rush “R-Right!” he stammers out and quickly leaves.

♡~🐍~♡

a tap of your footsteps was the only thing you could hear in the empty hallway. You kept glancing around making sure you didn’t see anybody you knew. You had to be sneaky when meeting up with your secret boyfriend. Months of secrecy was not getting ruined because you were excited.

ah yes. You. Y/n Potter, were dating your brothers enemy. Draco Malfoy. It started months ago when Neville Longbottom had told you that your idiot of a brother started a fight with Draco in the courtyard and he turned it physical. You told Neville to lead you to the fight and he agreed.

running with your fellow Gryffindor, you begin to hear shouting. Students cheering the words ‘Malfoy’ ‘Potter’ and ‘fight’. Bloody hell. You walk into the courtyard and saw a group of people huddled around and rush towards them, pushing past multiple students.

in the middle, you clearly see Harry on top of Draco, hitting him in the face. You stand there in horror for a couple seconds, before rushing over. You grab your brother and yank him off the Slytherin boy. “What the hell is wrong with you Harry!?” you shout. He looks at you with pure shame in his eyes.

you look down at Draco and hold out your hand. He looks at you for a moment, almost like he was evaluating you “I’m not going to hit you if that’s what you think, Malfoy” you said and Draco grins slightly before grabbing your hand, using it to pull himself up.

you look up at him. He had a busted lip and a bruised eye. Damn, HArry really did a number on him. You let go of his hand and reach into your pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Reaching up to his face, he leans back “What the hell are you doing?” he questions a bit harshly.

“You have blood on your face” You explain, but he still seems hesitant. You sigh and hold out the piece of cloth for him “Then you do it” Draco shakes his head slowly and shrugs “I can’t even see it, so you can do it” You just give him a nod and reach up, wiping the blood of his lip.

a small contact sended sparks through the both of you and after that. Draco would always find a way to see you. Making small excuses and just study your everyday habits. You being the nice person you were, you gave him the time of day and you genuinely liked talking to him.

feelings developed over time, but once hArry found out about your guys friendship. He forced you to end it, but when you told Draco about it. He said to meet him at the astronomy tower one last time and that’s where he confessed to you and you two had been together ever since.

♡~🐍~♡

as you near the last few steps, you rush up quickly to see your Slytherin boyfriend leaning against the railing. His face lighting up as he sees you “I knew you would come” he speaks first and you smile, walking over to him. “I haven’t seen you in a week. I missed you”

he smiles at your words and wraps his arms around your waist “Aw you missed me. How sweet” he teases. You roll your eyes and look up at the taller boy “Such a narcissist” you tease back and he pouts. “But you love me still, right?”

you smile warmly at Draco and nod “Yes i still love you” your words seem to be exactly what he wanted to hear because he leaned his head down towards you “There is one thing i missed most about you” he whispers and you can’t help but grin “and that is?” you questioned. Already knowing the answer.

he smirks against the skin of your ear “The feel of your mouth of mine of course, love” your body shudders as the Slytherin backed you up into the wall. He smirks at your shocked expression before smashing his lips onto yours. Responding instantly, you kiss back.

you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on the hairs on the back of his neck. A groan left your boyfriend as he pulled you closer to him. “Get the hell of my sister, Malfoy!” Draco was yanked off of you and thrown back, leaving you frozen in shock.

Draco stands up quickly and scowls at your brother “Ever heard of privacy, Potter!?” he spat and Harry scoffed “You were snogging my sister, so no offense but fuck your privacy! How dare you take advantage of her!?”

“Take advantage of her?! You need to get your fucking eyes checked because she was kissing me back dumbass!” Draco retorts, crossing his arms. Harry’s head snapped to you and gave you a questioning look “Is it true?” you nod slowly “He’s my boyfriend Harry. Has been for months”

Harry looked away from you and shook his head “He’s the enemy Y/n!” he shouts and you roll your eyes “He’s your enemy Harry! Your problem. Draco has been nothing. but nice to me!” Harry didn’t seem to believe your answer and grabbed your arm.

“We’re leaving and you two are never going to see each other again!” Harry tries to drag you out, but you fight back “Ow! Harry you’re hurting me!” You shout and Draco takes immediate action. Grabbing your body and tugging you away from your brother.

he holds you close to him and looks at your arm, checking the damage “That’s going to leave a nasty bruise, love” Draco whispers sadly and you frown. Draco snapped his head towards the Gryffindor with a deadly glare. If looks could kill, Draco would never need the killing curse.

“Look what you fucking did! Get over yourself, Potter! I may not like you in the slightest, but i love Y/n. So for her sake, shove off!” Draco didn’t let the boy get a word in before he lead you out of the astronomy tower.

♡~🐍~♡

it had been days since you spoke to your brother. You were so pissed at him and had avoided him at every turn. After the incident in the astronomy tower Draco made your relationship public and most people seemed okay with it. Except for a few choice people.

“I can’t believe she’s sitting with him” Ron comments, looking over at the sight of you at the Slytherin table chatting it up with Draco. “How could someone as sweet as her love such a monster” he adds. Harry nods agreement.

“oh my merlin. Both of you shut up. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. It happens and Harry you have clearly upset and injured your sister and need to apologize for being such a insufferable jerk! ” Hermione shouts, earning a few side glances from other stdents.

Harry nods quickly and stands up “y-yes ma’am!” he stutters and walks off. Ron watches with a horrified look before turning to Hermione “you really are quite scary” all Hermione does is smile sweetly.

♡~🐍~♡

Draco has been leaning into your ear and whispering very inappropriate things in your ear all lunch and squeezing your thigh “You are such a perv Draco Malfoy” you mumble, meeting his gaze and he smirks widely “Only for you” he mutters back and leans in to kiss your lips.

“Ew” a voice says behind you two. You pull away and your E/c eyes are meant with your Harry. You sigh deeply at the sight “Wow thanks Harry” you say sarcastically. “Here to assault her again, Potter?” Draco scoffs, making his friends laugh.

Harry shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck “I may not understand how you could ever like him, but after watching from the sidelines for a few days i know he makes you happy and i’m so fucking sorry for hurting your arm. I wasn’t thinking straight and i hope you can forgive me” he says giving you a smile.

“I’m also willing to try to get along with Malfoy. If he does too” Harry adds and faces your boyfriend who sighs before holding out his hand “For Y/n. Anything” Harry smiles and shakes his hand.

“My two boys getting along, how cute”

♡~🐍~♡

Kody- Hope you enjoyed. Requests are open btw. Anyways, peace.

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x reader #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #potterhead #fanfic #fanfiction

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 109

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,025ish

Summary: Secretary Ross holds a meeting. Steve and Y/N get some news.

Tony sat in the corner of the facility’s conference room, away from everyone else. Secretary Ross stood in the front next to the monitor. Steve, Rhodey, and Natasha were seated at the table on the side closest to Tony. Sam, Vision, and Wanda were seated on the other side. Y/N was sat down at the end of the table, opposite Ross.

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass… I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective,” Secretary Ross stated. “The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some… who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha cut in, snarkily.

“How about ‘dangerous'? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?” Secretary Ross activated the monitor behind him. It started playing news reels from past Avengers and SHIELD matters. “New York.” A clip of the Chitauri invasion played out. “Washington DC.” When SHIELD fell.

“Sokovia.” Ultron. “Lagos.” The team’s most recent mission.

“Okay,” Steve said, noticing Wanda’s uncomfortableness. “That’s enough.”

Ross turned off the screen before continuing. “For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” He threw a thick book on the table. “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary. The Accords will also require anyone who is enhanced to be put on a registry.”

“Like me and Y/N?” Wanda wondered. Y/N glanced at Tony, who refused to look her way, as Wanda continued. “We’d be put on a list so that you can watch our every move? Maybe even experiment on us?”

“We wouldn’t experiment on anyone.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned. “Is it cause you already are?”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” Steve stated, trying to change the topic. “I feel we’ve done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” Steve merely looked at Ross, unable to answer the question. For all they knew, Thor was on Asgard and no one had seen or heard from Bruce since Sokovia, a year ago. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes, you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

“So, there are contingencies,” Rhodey spoke up.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.”

Steve and Tony briefly made eye contact,Tony quickly looking back down. Y/N noticed. That floor must be really interesting, interesting enough for a man who never shuts up to stop talking.

“Talk it over,” Ross continued.

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” Nat asked.

“Then you retire.” Ross answered. Everyone kinda glanced at each other. “Let me know what you guys decide.” And with that, Ross left.

~~~

They moved to one of the common area’s of the facility. Rhodey and Sam were going at each other about the Accords while Steve flipped through them and everyone else listened.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodey argued. “Which is one more than you have.”

“So let's say we agree to this thing,” Sam said. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”

“How long are you going to play both sides?”

“I have an equation,” Vision stated, interrupting their bickering.

“Oh, this will clear it up.” Sam grumbled sarcastically.

“In the six years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man,” Vision started, “the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve questioned, as he looked up from the Accords.

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey said.

“Tony…” Nat called, causing everyone to look at him. “You’re uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

Tony, who had been laying down, moved his hand off from over his face and looked at Nat. She was right. He’s always very open about his opinion. Y/N had to keep pushing down the urge to read his mind, let his thoughts in.

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve stated.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony said sarcastically. Tony stood up and walked into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his head as he went. “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache.” He opened a cabinet and grabbed a mug. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Tony looked into the sink. “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed-and-breakfast for a biker gang?” He tried to causally pull up a holographic image on his phone.

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer by the way,” Tony continued. “He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree. 3.6 GPA. Had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world, maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer, building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.” Y/N closed her eyes. “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.”

Tony threw some pills in his mouth and took a drink before continuing. “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, we’re boundary less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve stated.

“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony questioned.

“We are, if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

“Sorry,” Rhodey interrupted, “Steve, that, that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but it’s run by people with agendas and agents change."

“That’s good. That’s why I’m here,” Tony said. “When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing them."

“Tony. You chose to do that. If we sign these, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me…” Wanda whispered.

“And me,” Y/N said.

“We would protect you,” Vision promised, looking at Wanda.“Both of you.”

Y/N looked to Tony, trying to see where he was going with all this. But nothing. He just refused to meet her eyes.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” Nat suggested. Tony looked at her, shocked. “If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer. If we take it off—”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam cut her off.

“I’m just raiding the terrain. We’ve made some very public mistakes, we need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up. I’m sorry,” Tony interrupted, the hint of surprise in his voice, “Did I just miss hear you or did you just say that you agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back—“ Nat quickly shook her head.

“No no no,” Tony said, as he shook his finger. “You can’t retracted it.”

Sitting close to him, Y/N could hear Steve’s phone buzz. She watched as he pulled it out to check it and immediately grow sad.

“I have to go,” Steve stated.

He got up quickly, dropped the Accords on the coffee table, and slipped into the stairwell. Concerned, Y/N stood up and followed. She found him a couple of flights down, leaning against the banister with his head hung low.

“Hey,” she gently said, coming up to him. “What’s going on?”

When he lifted his head, his eyes were glassy. “She’s gone,” he struggled to say. “Peggy’s gone.”

“Oh, Steve.” Y/N quickly pulled him into her, tears forming in her own eyes as well.

“She’s gone.”

~~~

Tony found Y/N in their room later that day. He wanted to talk to her about the Accords. He had no clue where she stood. When he entered, he noticed she was packing.

“Are we going somewhere?” He asked.

“Peggy’s dead…. She’s gone.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Tony came over, allowing Y/N to fall into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“She was just one of the few I had left from then.”

“When’s the funeral?”

“In three days, in London.”

They stood in silence for a moment. “The Accords are being signed in Vienna that day.”

Y/N pulled her head away slightly, brows furrowed. “I tell you that my close friend just died, and you are worried about the Accords?”

“That’s not what I meant—“

Y/N pulled away fully, going back to packing. “I can’t believe you.”

“What? I just stated a fact. And you’re going to go sign them, right? Red’s going so you can just go with her.”

“Stop, Tony, just stop.”

“It’s a question. Are you going to sign them?”

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yes, Tony, I don’t know.”

“Why? Explain to me why you don’t know.”

Y/N dropped what she was working on so she could face Tony. “Because I see both sides! I see and understand that we need a little more leash than we have. We need to be monitored, as a team. But then I see the other side as well. The Accords are so strict! What if they force us to fight for something we don’t agree with? Or won’t let us fight when we need to? And there’s the fact that those will powers will have to be monitored. But they were never specific on what that entailed.”

“I will protect you.” Tony stepped closer. “Like always.”

“You can’t promise that if you sign the Accords. It’s not up to you.”

“I already signed them.”

“What?”

“I signed them before Ross even brought them to the team.”

“How— why—you should have talked about this to me first. Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I guess I thought that you would sign them too.”

“Out of what? Love? Duty to my boyfriend?”

“Yes! And because I thought you’d understand why we need to have this.”

“I do understand! I just think that the Accords aren’t the answer!”

“Well I do! And if you loved me, you would too!!”

“What?” Y/N’s whisper of the word still gave away her angry tone. “If I loved you? What the hell do the Accords have to do with love?!”

“Because one of the reasons, my biggest reason, for doing this is because I love you! I’m doing this for us! And to make things right!”

“You’re doing this for you, Tony! And no one else! You’re hoping that you’ll be able to sleep better at night after this. That the guilt of everything that’s happened won’t drive you crazy anymore.”

“So what if that’s part of it?! We need to be put in check, Y/N! God! How do you not understand that?!”

“You know what? I understand perfectly.” Y/N threw the rest of the clothes on their bed into her suitcase. Slamming it shut. “It is my decision whether or not to sign the Accords. I need some time to think.” Zipping it up, she grabbed the suitcase. “And I think it needs to be away from here.”

“So, what, you’re leaving here? Running away?”

“Don’t even, Tony! I am not running away. I need to make this decision on my own, without any opinions in the way.”

“But you’re going to London with Cap, right? I’m sure he’ll try to sway you.”

“My friend just died! The person who used to be my best friend! The only person I knew after waking up. So, yes, I am going to London. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll be taking Steve’s side. Or any side.” A portal opened next to Y/N. “Please, let me have some time.”

As Y/N stepped through the portal, Tony called out one last thing, “You have less than 3 days, Y/N. Better make your decision quick.”

~~~

After the portal closed, Y/N hurried to find a nearby trash can, emptying her gut into it. The baby clearly wasn’t a fan of that. Y/N got a hotel room in London. She texted Steve telling him where she was and that she would see him at the funeral. Steve questioned is she was okay, which Y/N just waved off.

She stayed in her hotel room until the funeral. When she arrived at the cathedral, it was already packed with mourners. Y/N quickly found Sam sitting in the front row.

“Hey,” he greeted, bringing her in for a hug.

“I didn’t know you’d be here, Sam.”

“I figured you would both need some support.”

Y/N pulled away. “Thanks, Sam.”

She tried to discreetly look around. She was hoping that Tony would do the same thing. They hadn’t spoken or texted since that argument.

“He’s not here,” Sam said, turning her attention to him.

“What?”

“Stark, he’s not here.”

“I wasn’t—“

“Yes you were. Steve may not be immediately again to see it, but I do. You two got in a fight. Was it over the Accords?”

“Yes,” Y/N sighed with a nod.

“Your stance?”

“I still don’t know. I see both sides… there just has to be a better way.”

“I hope you figure one out. And figure it out fast."

~~~

Steve helped carry the casket down. As he sat down beside Y/N in the front pew, he immediately grabbed her hand, squeezing it. Y/N squeezed back. They listened to the speakers, Y/N staring at the framed photo of Peggy in front.

“And now, I would like to invite Sharon Carter to come up and say a few words,” the Priest stated.

Steve was watching Y/N when Sam leaned over and nudged him. Steve looked up to see Sharon Carter, formally known as Agent 13 from SHIELD and Steve’s neighbor, up at the podium. Y/N knew that Sharon was related to Peggy, but it was clear that Steve did not.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of SHIELD . . . but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy,” Sharon began. Steve took a surprised breath. "She had a photograph in her office. Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I never told anyone we were related.” Sharon looked directly at Steve. “I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage in a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either. And she said, compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move . . . it is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in they eye and say, ‘No, you move’.”

~~~

After the ceremony, Steve and Y/N were the only ones left in the cathedral. Y/N was standing in front of Peggy’s picture while Steve had his head down, leaning against a pew. Natasha walked up the isle to Steve.

“When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone besides Y/N,” Steve said. “Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her.”

“She had you back, too,” Nat responded. “The both of you.”

“Who else signed?”

“Tony. Rhodey. Vision.”

“Clint?” Y/N asked, still looking at the photograph.

“Says he's retired.”

“Wanda?” Steve wondered.

“TBD. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet.” Steve sighed as Y/N turned around to join them. “Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

“What are we giving up to do it?” Nat sighed as Steve shook his head. “I'm sorry, Nat. I can't sign it.” Nat looked at Y/N.

“I don’t know yet, Nat,” Y/N responded. “I see both sides, I’m affecting either way. I just… I don’t know.”

“I know,” Nat responded.

“Then what are you doing here?” Steve asked.

“I didn’t want you two to be alone.”

next chapter >

NOTES: There was going to be more gifs, but I got lazy..... sorry.....

From now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #iron man x reader #captain america x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #tony stark imagine #tony stark #Iron Man #The Avengers #Avengers

187 notes · View notes

marindram · 3 years

Text

full transcription of Marin's blog from Omega Mart!

huge thanks to @b0chelly for recording a scroll-through, which i typed this out from. (and warning for Omega Mart lore/story spoilers. second half is in reblog)

Marinknows.best

Location: Seven Monolith Village

Last Login: 12/31/2019

Profile Views: 101,275

About me: I love listening to music and glitter

Friends (0)

June 26, 2018

Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee!

So 14 feels way different than 13. For real. I think it's because I was expecting 13 to feel different, but sometimes when you expect something it turns out the opposite ya know?

Plus, 13 is like, "I'm new to being a teenager!!"

14 is more like, "I'm becoming the person I want to be." At least that's how I want it to be. I wanted to start this blog as a record of all that.

I should ask Did you guys feel the same way when you turned 13 and 14?

But probably nobody's gonna read this because I'm just a weirdo in the weird dessert. I mean, I know my best friend Jesse is reading this (hi Jesse). Besides her, crickets.

But yeah, if you are reading this and you don't know me - I live in Seven Monolith Village, a teensy tiny town that you've only heard of if you're into aliens or homesteading. And I'm literally stuck. As in, I'm physically unable to leave. My first memories are of all the adults in my life (Charlie, my great-uncle/father-figure - Rose, my what? Roommate? Mother-figure? Pseudo-aunt? All of the above? and my mom, Cecelia. who doesn't live here) telling me that for some reason, there's something wrong with me that makes it so I can't leave a certain radius of where we live. I got older and thought that they were just exaggerating to keep me safe, but then last year I tried. And it was, let's just say not good.

Anyway. That part of my life sucks, but not everything sucks. This year is all about Marin Dram 2.0. Not new, but definitely improved.

And maybe someday, somehow somebody will read this and care about what I have to say. Somebodies, even. Until then, this is Marin Dram signing off and sending my lame contemplations into the void!

July 1, 2018

Things I Want To Do Before I Turn 20 (and some of these will never happen like are literally unable to happen but JUST LET ME DREAM

1. Kiss someone (who???)

2. Meet HTB (kiss him) (jk he would never) (plus meeting him would be enough)

3. Go to Paris

4. Go to Rome (or somewhere cooler in Italy, look up where is the best pasta???)

5. Go to Greenland (why not???)

6. Go to New York City

7. Go to LA (with a dream and my cardigan lol)

8. Go to the Grand Canyon (this isn't mine, but 9, Jesse is sitting right here and she went to the GC when we were 12 and she's like blah blah blah it's my favorite place in the world and you'll love it. I'm doing this so she'll shut up.

9. Live in a normal house with normal rooms → ideally 12 of them: living room AND TV room, kitchen, dining room, 3 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, study/library.

-plus an upstairs downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I got my own

-plus an upstairs/downstairs

-I'm willing to compromise on the number of rooms as long as there's more than ONE for TWO PEOPLE and I get my own room with an actual door. Very into doors.

10. Go to a mall (Jesse says there's a bunch of bonkers ones in Vegas)

11. Make friends who aren't Jesse (no offense, Jesse)

12. Get Cecelia (my "mom") to teach me about business stuff so I can open my own cool coffeeshop/bookstore someday

13. Learn to drive (ask Charlie to teach me, he's obsessed with his truck) (Jesse says she can teach me because she's Little Miss Mechanic and thinks she knows everything about cars but news flash Jesse: you're you get than me)

14. Figure out my signature style- like I want people to send me pictures of things and be like "this just screamed Marin" and for that to be true

15. Liquid eyeliner??

16. I'm stopping here because I just read over all this and want to die/cry because easily 3/4 of these are literally impossible?

17. Kill me

18. Bye

19. Lololol Charlie just came in and I was complaining about this, not being able to leave and stuff, etc and he said that I should visit new places by... reading books?? And I mean I like to read. But dude. That's the dumbest thing I've ever head.

July 30, 2018

Okay so this is what I want my life to look like:

I want a pink room. Not just pink... P I N K. Cool pink wallpaper (floral? jacquard??), pink carpet, lots of pink flowers everywhere, a four-poster bed with a pink silk canopy, lots of cool pink throw pillows. Like, so pink that

people think I'm being sarcastic! Oh, and BOOKS. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and some of the shelves have, like, STUFF on them that isn't books, like gifts people gave me, or things I've collected on my JOURNEYS. You know, normal stuff that people who live on normal places and do normal things have.

If I lived in in this room, it'd be in awhite three-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac (did you know "culs-de-sac" is the plural? Not "cul-de-sacs"? crazy) and I'd wear very classic girly clothes and my hair would always do what I wanted it to. It'd be one of those towns that people call small, but it's actually a city. just one with a kinda small, cozy feeling. Somewhere that gets cold enough to wear cute jackets but not so cold I have to to like, shovel my driveway. Not a non-place with like 100 people where you can't even go outside without going crazy.

August 2nd, 2018

I guess I should explain where I live, for all my avid fans out there! (lol) (hello??)

So like... I don't live on Earth. At least, not the Earth you think of when you think of EARTH. I live in some some weird off-brand version of Earth called the Forked Earth where there are aliens and magic wells of magic energy and everything is MAGIC but like the crappy kind of magic, where the sun never fully rises and some goo called "runoff" has made everything wacky and oh yeah, my mom is responsible for that and everyone here hates her!! LOL

Also, I can't leave! Like, literally can't! Rose says I'm a "special child of Source" and that's why but that LITERALLY explains tells me nothing, in fact it just raises further questions that no one can seem to answer! AHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway, the last time I tried to leave I felt. When I try to leave I feel like I'm being pulled back by something, like you know those old cartoons where someone's on stage doing something dumb and then someone offstage pulls them away with a giant shepard's crook? It felt like that, and when I opened my eyes I was back in 7 Monolith Village. UGH.

I know this sounds crazy!!!!! But believe me when I say that I am the least crazy person here. Also, """here""" is C R A Z Y. Runoff has made everything the bad kind of psychedelic and then people here actually DRINK IT! Not only do I not DRINK THE STUFF THAT HAS MADE THE WORLD INSANE, I also do not talk to aliens (or whatever Nula are) like Rose or believe crazy conspiracy theories like Charlie, so I believe that qualifies me as the most normal person in the Forked Earth, thank you for this honor, I accept this award with humility and grace!

September 4, 2018

I had the weirdest dream last night?? I was swimming in a pool full of cereal, and when I came up for air, my mom was pouring milk on my head like she was rinsing my hair. She had her hand over my face like I was a little kid and she was shielding me from soap getting in my eyes.

Anyway I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. I went to bed hungry and I need to take a shower? Lol

October 16, 2018

I was trying to hide this entry from Jesse, but JESSE IS A NOSY PERSON. She says that blogs are for readers, and if I wanted something to be private then I should "Just write in a fucking notebook and hide it under your bed like a normal person, Marin." I'm allowed to have secrets!! Anyway, I'm making her a freaking playlist, that's why I wouldn't tell her what I was writing about. but EVEN STILL! I'm allowed to have secrets!! But I have this blog because I wanna get my feelings out, I wanna see everything in my head typed out all nice in a way that doesn't make it look insane. You know? I don't know who I'm asking.) Because, it's not like I go to a normal school or have a normal life where I'm surrounded by normal people I can talk to. No one knows about me! I'm trapped in this crazy place and This blog is my only outlet to the world outside. I KNOW that's heavy but it's true! The point is: Jesse's birthday is coming up. The central consistent thing in pretty much my whole life is sharing headphones with her and listening to music. The soundtrack to my entire existence is her. I wish I had money and could buy her the best presents of all time, but I can make her the best playlist of all time. I want it to be so good it feels like magic. I want her to think I'm magic. I had another dream the other night. I don't remember much, just glitter. I must be crafting too much. Or looking at festival makeup tutorials. Or both.

November 12, 2018

WARNING- Weird thoughts ahead, lol.

I can never tell which feelings are normal, and which are me being a giant weirdo. But for as long as I can remember, I've had this feeling like every part of my body that's possible to have a ribbon tied around it, has a ribbon tied around it. It's so weird. I can't see the other end of the ribbons - how far they go. where they're attached, nothing. And sometimes it's fine, because sometimes I can hardly feel them. I can forget about them for days at a time, weeks, months if I'm lucky. But then other times I can feel them like, pulling at me. It's freaking spooky, to have something pulling at you from somewhere you can't see. I can't tell if it's pulling me toward whatever it is? Or if it's trying to warn me? Or if I'm just insane??

Does that make sense? Does anybody else feel that way? (she asks into the void)

So idk I guess this ribbons-feeling is why I'm really careful all the time. Like I'm just a careful person. Charlie tried to give me a hard time about it, and I can't be like "I don't wanna pull back in the ribbons too hard without realizing it and wreck something!" because he'd be like "WTF Marin, do we need to get you help?" But also, more and more, I want to be the opposite of careful. I want to take a pair of comically oversized scissors and cut the ribbons into so many pieces that nobody can even tell what they are any more.

I don't know why I'm such a freak, only that I am. I don't know why I can't leave 7 Monolith, only that I can't. But there must be a reason, even if I can't see it, and I feel like it makes sense that the ribbons-feeling is part of that reason, right?

There's just a lot.

January 15, 2019

Happy new year! Lol I forgot to write on the actual first day of 2019, but OH WELL!

I got this new glitter nail polish, thanks to the monthly makeup subscription box my "mom" sends me as an outlet for her abandonment guilt. It has like, every color glitter imaginable without quite reading as "rainbow" which is fine just not really what I was in the mood for and it's vaguely halographic and shifts into all these different colors depending on the light. I'm obsessed. Anyway.

I was putting on another layer because I chipped it like 20 minutes into wearing it, and all of a sudden I had this feeling like I recognized the glitter? Like I felt this thing way deep in my gut and for a minute I couldn't breathe. It's the closest thing I've felt to how books and movies make Christmas look. Like I was home, with family, cookies and cider and all that stuff. Familiar and safe. I almost didn't recognize that feeling. And it came from the nail polish. How weird is that.

I mean, I don't want to make it sound like I've had this awful Charles Dickens childhood - Rose and Charlie are the best ever and always there for me and I love them a lot. But things never feel like...home. You know?

My mom always says this cryptic stuff about how I'm "special" and I wanna strangle her because I'm not, but you try getting my mom to stop doing anything she wants to do. Rose told me once that one day, I would "lead the charge into a new era of existence and access" because I'm "of the Source" and I was like uhhhh okay?? Charlie mostly treats me pretty normal, except when I ask him questions about our family. my mom or any Dram. He knows that I want to know more about them and he's my only real entrypoint, but apparently he's like the black sheep of that whole family. He and my mom were close way back right before I was born, but now whenever she comes to visit he barely even looks at her.

So that's to say: nobody tells me anything, ever.

January 16, 2019

Okay this is so weird. I wrote that entry yesterday about glitter and then last night I dreamed about glitter. Then I woke up with purple glitter in my bed?? Like not a lot, so at first I thought it was from my nail polish, but it was just a handful of purely purple glitter that looks nothing like my nail polish. SO WEIRD!!!!!!

February 14, 2019

Rose has an old book full of "ye olde" style fairy tales, and I flipped through it for the first time in forever today.

Not so weirdly, I've always been drawn to the story of Rapunzel.

Rapunzel couldn't leave the tower, or else she'd break her neck and die.

Same.

February 19, 2019

I was reading this article the other day in one of the teen magazines my "mom" gets me a subscription to and it was all about body positivity, which is great, but it was basically just like "wear a crop top if you wannna wear a crop top! it doesn't matter what size you are! You go, girl!" And like, sure. Yes. I am all for that. But doesn't it seem like there are some steps missing in there? Like, I can physically put on a crop top and wear it outside. But how do I convince myself that everybody isn't looking at me and making fun of me in their minds? How do I unlearn the last almost-fifteen years? How do I get actually positive about my body, not just put on a crop top and fight the urge to cry all day?

It's the same thing like when my mom sends me brochures from the CEO camp she ten when she was my age (her dad started the camp for her, which is an insane thing just by itself, but she did all the work, which is even more insane) and she's like "Marin, you lack direction for your life" and I'm like, cool mom. Yeah. I can see that. What I can't see is how to get there from here.

March 2, 2019

This is what I want my life to look like, volume 2:

The walls of my room are covered in Polaroids of me and my friends. There are lots of mirrors in all kinds of shapes. hearts and moons and stars. There's a record player and a lot of vintage records by Billie Holiday and Lena Horne and Peggy Lee and Nina Simone. And Christmas lights! Everywhere! Lots of of pink and purple Christmas lights everywhere.

If I lived in this room, I'd have so many friends and be part of so many clubs. My best friend would have a collection of vintage cameras, and every place we go to that has a photo booth, we'd get photos taken. Every time I'd look at myself in one of those mirrors, I'd feel happy at what I see and never weird or sad. (Jesse hates taking pictures, so even when I actually do normal stuff with her there's no evidence. What even is a life supposed to be without evidence? That's not an actual question you need to answer Jesse, it's just a question)

Anyway, if I lived in this kind of room, my mom would probably be like, an art history professor at a liberal arts college. That's how come everything looks so cool, because I would know stuff about art. My mom and I would love to try new recipes together. We get each other new cookbooks for every special occasion, and right now we're working out way through a Moroccan one. Moroccan Mondays.

In actuality, there's a dust storm happening outside and my eyes sting.

March 9, 2019

Here's what I'm obsessed with lately.

Can. You. EVEN???

February 3, 2020

Omg I totally forgot this blog existed!!

I lost the password and instead of just resetting it I got in one of my super stubborn moods (Taurus moon lol) and just kept putting in guesses and jokes on me, it locked me out. Anyway, that's a boring story.

But my friend Ximena is really good at hacking and stuff, so she got me back in. Yeah you read that right - I have friends. Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Ximena moved out here a couple months ago (X's family used to live here but they moved away a while ago) and she introduced me to Lora who I sorta-not-really already knew, and Jesse and I have been hanging out with them a ton. Jesse kind of more than me. Which is fine!!

Anyway I'm 15 now? If I lived somewhere normal I'd be psyched about almost being 16, because I'd get a car and have a Sweet Sixteen and eat a huge PINK cake, but I don't!

February 16, 2020

I read this fanfic the other night that was written in the second person so everything was like "you." "you're doing this" etc you know?

So... You go to a drive-in movie with Heartthrob Boy, and he spills soda on you by accident. And you take off your shirt ( you have a tank top on, don't worry) to clean it up, bit you're still all sticky and self-conscious about being sticky and HTB like... used his tongue to get it off??? AAHHHHH I'M DISGUSTING

but also I wonder if a boy will ever touch any part of me with his tongue

March 2, 2020

Hi I don't know if you heard but I have friends :)))

March 15, 2020

I think I'm so into painting my nails and doing my hair because those are things that always fit. I don't have to worry about places not carrying about a size 8, or places that carry XLs but when you read the measurements they're actually size 8s too and it's like jesus if that's an XL what am I

My "mom" was confused why I needed new pants because mine still look new, but I showed her the thigh holes and she was like "that's a weird place for a hole, how did that happen" and I realized that when your legs are a certain size, you just don't know about thigh rub and what it does to clothes. Pants could just last for years.

No matter what, I can paint my nails with a different color nail polish on every finger, and I can always do a braid crown. And I know I'm cute as hell, etc, so this is not a Marin Needs to Learn to Love Herself thing. It's just an UGH thing

April 17, 2020

So Rose does all these Source experiments on plants and flowers and stuff. Tbh, it's just one if those things I hardly even register anymore because it's just always there. She's explained to me a million times what Source is/does/means, but the way Rose explains things sometimes is just a LOT to take in and she refers to me as a "child of Source" but I kinda figure that's like "child of God" right? What else would that mean?

But anyway, it's really annoying because dried flowers are a part of my new aesthetic and I pinned a bunch of them up on my wall but I woke up this morning to a freaking jungle of very alive flowers. I freaked out. on Rose, and she Rose said she didn't do it and I was like WELL THEN WHO DID and she said that I did??

Which like. Obviously that doesn't make sense. I asked her what she meant and She just shook her head and said " It's happening. We should have known" which is some horror movie shit that she refused to elaborate on. I love to feel safe and normal!!

Or maybe it's not a horror movie at all. But maybe it's a superhero movie? Maybe there's some kind of origin story I don't know about yet, and all of this will be worth it once I figure out my powers. I wonder what my costume will look like. Lol.

April 23, 2020

Is it possible to die from longing? I know that sounds melodramatic, but I'm also kinda serious?? Because it seems like one of those things that could fester and get infected and kill you. It's like when you fall down and bang up your knee, and you need to put a band-aid on the scrape for a while, but THEN you need to air it out - but how do you know when you're supposed to do each one of those things? And if you do either one too much, your knee gets infected. What if I smother my heart with band-aids for too long and it gets infected? This isn't about anybody. I just keep having these dreams about someone I never expected to have dreams about and they're so intense that they keep leaking into my life and I wonder if I need to do something about them.

May 2, 2020

So Jesse's gotten really into metal music, and I tried to get her to play me something since, AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED, that's what we've literally ALWAYS DONE with music and each other, and she kinda looked at Ximena out of the corner of her eye and said like "I don't think it's really your thing" And it was the meanest thing anybody's ever said to me.

So later I looked up Zenion, the band she was talking about, and I listened to every single fucking song they've ever recorded turned up as loud as it could go with my own headphones that are better than hers anyway, and I loved it. And I didn't love it just because she said I wouldn't. I loved it because it was loud and weird and wild and when I listened to it it made me feel like it's not crazy when so feel stuff so hard it's like my heart's gonna vibrate out of my body. And I would have told Jesse all this and we could have shared it, but I guess she thinks just because I like HTB and glitter and stuff, I don't have the capacity for anything else.

She clearly doesn't know me at all. So much for any kind of whatever, why would she ever want to kiss someone she clearly sees as like a stupid baby.

May 7, 2020

The dreams are getting weirder and they're happening more. I'm getting scared to go to sleep. Not that the dreams are always scary (they almost never are, or not scary like in a typically scary horror movie way). I mean, I've only ever been me. I don't know what other peoples' dreams are like.

The other night in one I was jumping on a trampoline, which is something I've never done in real life. I told Rose about it when I woke up, and she said "do you even know how to jump on a trampoline?" and I said "Rose, it's not like riding a bike. You don't have to learn. You just jump." and then we got into this whole thing about how some things we just know, and jumping's one of them, and how that's so weird. Sometimes I really like talking to Rose about stuff.

May 19, 2020

So, it's prom season in the real world. If I lived somewhere normal, my prom dress would be pink with lots of tulle and silk flowers at the shoulders, and it would fit perfectly and trying in dresses would be fun and not anxiety-inducing.

But since there are only like 10 teenagers currently in 7MV, were not having a homecoming. Cool.

May 27, 2020

So, mom came to visit this weekend, and I asked her about her prom. She was Typical Cecelia at first, very "Prom is a waste of time and money, Marin. It's a night when lesser people play dress-up to engage with their aspirations of grandeur." And I was like eyeroll forever and just stopped talking. BUT THEN she actually talked to me like a human being. She was like, "I actually didn't go to my prom" and when I asked her why she said that she didn't have a date, and was very self-conscious about it. I almost passed out at her admitting that she's ever been anything less than perfect.

(gonna continue this in reblog)

#omega mart #marin dram #omega mart lore

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