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mika-writes-fanfics · 1 year

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Healing Touch

Dabi x Fem!Reader fan fiction

Synopsis: You encounter an injured Shigaraki and offer your healing quirk to his aid. Little did you know, healers were hard to come by in the underground and Shigaraki takes a liking to your skills. To further his cause, he kidnaps you and holds you captive under the watch of the LOV. You play the role of the LOV's little healer while you think of a way to escape. Unbeknownst to you, the pyromaniac with a cold heart begins to melt in your presence. Your compassion and wit draw him in, all the while he swears it's only curiosity he feels toward you. But when your touch heals his burns and your personality soothes his anguish, Dabi begins to wonder, what exactly is he feeling for you? And why the hell does he feel so torn up when you slip away?

Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence, kidnapping, threats, mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome, eventual smut, kidnapping, female/afab reader, healing quirk

Author's Note: This is a reworking of my old fic, "Healing Hands". I've changed some stuff around, gotten rid of unnecessary paragraphs/sentences, and made the pacing faster. I felt like my last one dragged on for too long and I kept getting stuck. It also didn't help that I wrote most of it while high but I'm not gonna make that mistake again lol. I hope you enjoy the new version.

Abbreviation Guide: Y/N (your name), E/C (eye color), F/C (favorite color)

Word Count: 3K

Chapter One: Imprisoned

“Tomura, I do hope you intend to inform us what the emergency is,” Mr.Compress says to Tomura. There’s annoyance in his voice, thinly veiled by his usual aura of elegance and typical polite tone.

“Yeah, this better be important. What gives? Didya really need to have Kurogiri warp us here without notice?” Dabi agrees and further criticizes Tomura.

“Don’t question my judgment, this is extremely important,” Tomura defends. “We have a new member.” The league members’ faces seem deadpanned, bored and unbelieving. There was no one new in sight.

“You hallucinating or something? I don’t see a newbie,” Dabi contests with sarcasm. Toga giggles at Dabi’s statement of the obvious. “This better not be a chick with an invisible quirk.” A loud, exasperated sigh escapes Tomura’s lips and scratches at his neck in palpable irritation.

“You idiots, she’s not here yet. It’ll be any minute now so listen up. She’s not a willing addition, but her quirk will be useful to us. We’ll need to keep an eye on her to prevent her from escaping,” Tomura explains, still somewhat agitated. Toga squeals in excitement as some of the other members converse with one another in whispers.

“I’m so happy! Another girl is joining? This is gonna be so much fun, we could be like sisters!” Toga squeals and gushes with excitement. She blushes at the next thought of the new female addition. “Maybe she’ll even let me drink her blood!”

“Hold up, how’s she supposed to be useful to us if she doesn’t even follow our mission? Couldn’t she just use her quirk against us?” Dabi opposes.

“Impossible. She has a healing quirk, there’s no way she could overpower us. Besides, we have too much offense, every party needs a support class,” Tomura counters. “Healers are hard to come by and we need her cooperation,” Tomura adds. He glares at Toga and addresses his following words to her. “So no stabbing and bloodsucking, Toga. I’ll dust you before I warn you again.”

A warp portal appears in the room, suddenly. Everyone in the room tenses in alert and anticipation. Kurogiri partially steps through, with one of his arms still in the haze. The nomu continues to step through, pulling out a very terrified you from the mist. You attempt to thrash and bolt, but after a few well-placed portals, Kurogiri has you restrained by the wrists with his own hands.

Your eyes are wide and darting everywhere around you. Your panic is on display for a bunch of strange people, who you can only assume are villains. You had just started your (study abroad program/work transfer) in Japan. You were only in Japan for a couple of weeks, not even familiar with your route to (campus/work). How were you supposed to know what parts of the city were dangerous? How could you have known what the local villains looked like? Your ignorance and vulnerability are what led you to these circumstances. An ill-fated encounter with a wounded Tomura led your good intentions to be taken advantage of. You just wanted to help someone who could have been close to death. Your conscience would have haunted your thoughts if you ignored him, especially when you had the power to help. How could you have known he was a villain looking for a full-time healer? If only your quirk had blessed you with a stronger constitution and strength, for all it took to kidnap you was a hard blow to the head. A phone call to Kurogiri made it easy for you to disappear without a trace. You were stacked up against impossible odds. Luck was never on your side.

“Speak, tell them your name,” Tomura commands you.

Despite your precarious situation, you can’t help but let your emotions show. You furrow your brows and the corner of your mouth twitches. “I’m not your fucking dog, stop commanding me like one,” you spit with malice. Your e/c eyes narrow in contempt.

Tomura’s head whips around and he turns to face you. You suppress a shiver when his angry red eyes peer at you through Father’s hand. Time seems to slow as his steps close in on you. He roughly grabs your chin with four fingers, his pinky hovering close to your skin. Your face is pulled closer to his, making it easier to see his glare. “When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed. Do I need to remind you what my hands can do? Now tell them your name.”

Not wanting to piss him off further, you wager your best interest entails complying with his demand. You clench your jaw. You had to swallow your pride, the situation called for it. “Y/n. My name is y/n,” You respond, voice filled with bitterness. Tomura loosens his grip on your jaw, mumbling something about wanting to ‘fix your attitude’. He instructs Kurogiri to unhand you and the two of them give you some space.

“Y/n is pretty! We’re going to be best friends!” Toga exclaims and jumps off the barstool, approaching you. You give her a confused look at Toga’s giddy and friendly demeanor. Toga throws herself at you to embrace you in a hug, a gesture that borders on insanity given how the two of you barely know one another. Your apprehension and stiffness go unnoticed by the blonde.

“Um, thanks?” you reply with reluctance. Worryingly, the teen is much stronger than she appears.

“Since we’re friends and all, can I have some of your blood? I think people look even prettier when they’re covered in blood,” She gushes. Your expression can only be described as that of dawning horror. You’re beginning to realize how a girl like her ended up in such a crowd.

“Miss Toga, I understand you have an affinity for blood but please keep in mind what Tomura said,” a masked man wearing a trench coat remarks. The man lazily swirls marbles in a gloved hand. His demeanor and speech are quite eloquent and formal, standing out from the rest of the group. You note that perhaps he could be reasoned with. After all, he’s almost defending you against the teen’s apparent blood lust.

“Ugh, that’s so boring!” Toga whines. Tomura shoots her a warning glare from behind his mask, or rather his hand. She releases you from her embrace, sighing loudly. She spins on her heels and grabs your hand. Her tone sounds a bit dejected when she speaks again. “I guess since we can’t do that, I’ll introduce you to everybody.” She parades you around the room, introducing you to everyone. You already knew of Tomura and Kurogiri of course, so no introduction is needed there. The process is awkward at the very least, but the other members don’t seem to care much. There’s not exactly a social script for meeting your captors.

You learn the esteemed man in the white mask goes by Mr.Compress, or just Compress for short. It seemed like a strange name initially until Toga explained his quirk involves compressing and reducing anything he desires into small marbles. You shudder to think of what it would feel like to be trapped in such a way. The next introduction is for a man in a black and white body suit. His suit covers his face as well. The man’s name is Twice and he makes clones of people. His behavior is quite erratic, as he’ll often say one thing and immediately follow with a statement saying the opposite. You’ve been shuffled around the room and learned the names of almost everybody except for one other person. Toga pushes you in the direction of a man adorned with many piercings and staples.

“And this is Dabi! He’s got a fire quirk,” Toga introduces. You take in his features quickly, not wanting to stare too much but wanting to pair his face with a name. There’s a lot about him that sticks out to you. There are large swaths of deep scars on his arms, neck, and face. The seams between the scars and healthy skin are joined together with silver staples. Even the scars beneath his eyes are littered with staples. But apart from his scars and piercings, his gaze is piercing. He has eyes that seem to see right through you, scrutinizing you with his cobalt blue irises.

“Y/n, was it?” He asks. His voice catches you off guard, as this is the first time you’ve heard him speak. It’s deep and smoky. In different circumstances, it’d make you weak in the knees.

“Y-yeah,” you confirm. Your voice sounds meek when you speak. He merely hums in acknowledgment and doesn’t question you further. Though, with the way his eyes still follow you and the way his brows are slightly pinched together, you wager there’s something he still wants to ask you.

“Toga, Twice, you two show her to her room. It’s the last room off the hall,” Tomura instructs, shooing the two of them off with a gesture.

“You got it, boss!” Twice agrees, enthusiastically. His tone and voice rapidly shift to a more whiny and annoyed attitude, “No! Why me?”

Toga agrees without refusal, unlike Twice. Though, despite Twice’s uttered resistance, he complies with Tomura’s request regardless. You think that Twice’s mannerisms will take some getting used to. Maybe eventually his switches won’t be as jarring. As the two of them are about to lead you up the stairs, Kurogiri interjects.

“Miss y/n, we found your residence. We went ahead and gathered most of your belongings, excluding devices of course,” Kurogiri informs you.

You blink once, then twice. You can’t help but think, ‘Excuse me, but what the fuck?’

“Wow, you broke into my house, looked through my things, and took my stuff? Thanks, how considerate of you,” you sarcastically remark.

“It’s no problem, y/n,” Kurogiri accepts. You think he surely cannot be serious, but nothing in his mannerisms or tone of voice makes you believe so. This guy has seemingly no sense of your sarcasm. He’s almost robotic in that sense. Toga, once again, grabs your hand and leads you around. The three of you climb up the stairs and walk down the hallway without further incidents.

“This is yours!” Toga announces. She swings the door open and invites herself in. You begrudgingly cross the threshold as well with Twice coming in behind you.

Boxes of your things are stacked, rather neatly, in the corner of the room. They’re all categorized and labeled. Evidently, Kurogiri is efficient and meticulous with details. You walk over and open the box labeled clothes. Sure enough, you see your clothes, neatly folded in the cardboard. Kurogiri was not exaggerating when he said they gathered most of your things. The thought simultaneously scares and humiliates you. For them to figure out your address and take your thing raises three concerns. One, Tomura and Kurogiri could access information that you did not carry on your person. Two, now that your apartment is now empty, it could appear to the authorities that you ran away without notice. Lastly, and arguably a much smaller concern in comparison, is that you can’t remember if you had brought anything embarrassing with you from home.

“I’ll help you unpack!” Twice offers, before immediately countering himself. “No way, that’s too much work.”

Before he’s able to open a box, you interrupt quickly. You shout, “No!” Your outburst catches him off guard. He freezes in his tracks. You realize your reaction might seem odd, so you try to salvage the situation to the best of your ability. “Please, let me do it. Organizing stuff calms me down. Today’s been a lot for me.” Truthfully, it’s not exactly why you’d like Twice and Toga to leave you be, but the lie is plausible enough to be believable.

Toga taps a finger to her cheek, thinking over it. “Well I guess Tomura didn’t order us to move you in, so it should be fine. Unpacking stuff sounds really boring anyways,” She admits. You feel your shoulders relax a bit. The two of them walk to your door before Toga stops in the doorway. There’s a more threatening aura about her when she adds, “I’d hate to have to chase you down and get yelled at by Tomura, so don’t try anything. Twice and I will be down the hall, okay?” She looks at you, either gauging your reaction or waiting for you to confirm. You decide to just nod and mutter out an ‘okay’, to which she gives you her signature manic smile and resumes her usual happy-go-lucky demeanor.

The two of them finally leave your room. You listen to their footsteps travel down the hall before fading out. The breath you didn’t realize you were holding releases. You’re finally alone. You take a moment for yourself, sitting on the creaky bed frame and mattress. You look around the room, trying to take note of everything. You’ve been provided with a bed, desk, and dresser. The walls are plain. The room is windowless. When you stop to think of it, you can’t remember seeing any windows in the other parts of the building so far either. Not to mention, you noticed that this particular hallway was a dead end. These four walls already feel suffocating to you. It’s a perfect prison, and it’s filled with wardens.

As hopeless as your situation feels right now, you can’t afford to wallow in it. You decide to busy yourself instead of spiraling into despair. There are stacks of boxes filled with your things, after all. You’ll be kept busy and away from your thoughts for at least a while. Your situation sucks, but you’re thankful you have the comfort of having your things. Surrounding yourself with familiarity might help you.

You’re in the process of unpacking your third box when you hear the sound of heavy boots coming toward your room. The door is still ajar from when Toga and Twice left, so you’re able to see who it is. You’re a bit surprised to see Dabi, considering he didn’t say much to you initially. He leans leisurely against your door frame. Clearly, he’s in no hurry to do much. You’re not sure why, but his staring makes you squirm.

“You guys should invest in a surveillance system, isn’t hovering around me boring?” you say, breaking the silence. Your attitude must have been amusing to him, as he gives a light chuckle at you. Just like his voice, his laugh is a bit naturally husky.

“Not when you act so feisty, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone bite back at Tomura like that,” he snickers. “It’d be a shame for him to break that attitude.”

“Is there something you need from me? Besides entertainment?” You quip.

“Your quirk, how does it work?” He questions. He straightens his posture, no longer leaning on the doorway. His expression is more serious. If you squint, you think there’s a hint of curiosity in his gaze.

You think it’s best to just show him. You activate your quirk, focusing it on one part of your body. Your hands glow a f/c hue and begin feeling cold to the touch. “I create a layer of stem cells on my skin. It’s at the expense of my metabolic energy and makes me freeze, so overuse can be dangerous,” You explain. You shut off your quirk and glance at your hands. Your fingers feel a bit stiff.

“So what can you heal?”

“It’s easier to explain what I can’t heal.”

“Go on,” he says and motions. He seems to be intrigued.

“Anything that’s already been healed by the body, like scars or old injuries, won’t react to my quirk. Neither will infections or autoimmune diseases. I can’t regrow lost limbs either, unless the original arm is still mostly intact and… um… ‘fresh’. As a whole, I work best with more surface-level injuries than deep, internal ones.”

“You seem to know a lot about this. You some sort of doctor or nurse?”

“Tried to be at one point. I know people with healing quirks are expected to be surgeons, doctors, or nurses, but I don’t want to be defined by just my quirk.”

“Would your quirk work on me?”

“It should. I could try and see,” you offer. He nods, permitting you to touch him. You’re about to ask him where you should heal him, but he offers his hands, palms facing you. You stand up from your place on the floor and walk over to him. His appearance starts to make sense to you when you inspect his hands. Dabi’s wrists and parts of his palms are slightly burned. The scarring must be a mixture of burn scars and grafts. Does his own fire hurt him?

Not wanting to scrutinize him any further with your staring, you clasp your hands around one of his. His hands are much larger than yours. The familiar f/c glow emanates from your hands, along with your quirk’s characteristic cooling effect. Meanwhile, Dabi’s hands are incredibly warm to the touch, a stark juxtaposition from yours. Even his metal staples, which you’d expect to feel cold, are warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“You weren’t kidding, your hands are like ice,” he comments. Aside from the coldness, he feels the rawness from the burns slowly subsiding. The seam between his healthy and grafted skin even seems to close over.

“Small price for you to pay for good results,” you muse. You release his hands from your grasp and inspect your work. His skin appears to have healed over, taking on the same pale shade as his other healthy skin. He retracts his hand from you and sees for himself. There’s just a hint of relief and awe in his eyes as he flexes his fingers, noticing the difference.

“Heh, not bad,” he admits. “Sorry to disappoint, but your ice hands don’t bother me. In case you haven’t noticed, I run hot.” He glances at his hand one more time before nonchalantly shoving both hands in his pockets. He turns on his heels but doesn’t leave yet.

“See ya around,” he adds. He strolls away, leaving you to recollect yourself and unpack everything.

Masterlist

Link to AO3

#dabi reader #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi fanfic #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha healing quirk #healer reader #healer y/n #tw: threats #tw: kidnapping #tw: blood #bnha reader insert #reader insert #long reads

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foreverrogers · 2 years

Text

bittersweet

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: peter and his coworker break a couple health codes in the walk-in

Warnings: peter parker is an idiot who does not know how to make coffee or manage his emotions, unprotected sex, the defilement of a walk-in fridge

Words: 3.2k

A/N: for @spidervee 's April for AU's writing party!! cannot lie this one... had made me very hot and bothered and i'm kinda obessessed with it. p.s. if i have wildly underestimated the deadliness of a walk-in fridge please do not tell me

request something! masterlist

The first time Peter meets you, you're 15 minutes late for your interview. For his interview, that is, the one you're supposed to be holding in order to figure out whether or not he was qualified to make coffee at your little corner cafe. (Spoiler alert, he was not.)

Peter's been sitting here for 15 minutes, watching the barista at the counter handle the steady flow of patrons solo, trying his best not to bounce his leg under the table so violently it pulls the bolts out of the concrete.

The ring of the entrance bell draws his attention to you, sunglasses slipping down your nose, clad in a black trench coat and thick knit scarf protecting you from the impending New York Winter outside. He can guess it's you by the trenta Starbucks up your holding precariously by the lid, messy scrawl of your name recognisable as who he knew to be the manager of the store.

"You have a visitor," The other barista, known only by her name tag as Gwen, states, doesn't look up from her position behind the coffee machine.

Peter watches you squint before pushing your sunglasses up with two fingers. You make eye contact through the opaque plastic. "Oh, shit." You pull off your glasses as you start towards him, toss them haphazardly into your tote as you hook one boot behind the leg of your chair to pull it back. He moves to stand up, remembers the manners May had taught him, is stopped halfway when you hold up your hand. "Oh, please, you don't need to. I'm so sorry, by the way, I thought this was happening on Monday."

"It, um..." Peter trails off a little, doesn't quite know how to match the energy in front of him, watches you take a long swig from your cup. "It is Monday."

"That, uh, yeah." You sigh heavily, set down your cup and move to shuffle out of your coat. "I'm sorry, it was a rough weekend. Why don't we just take that one again? My name is Y/n, it's great to meet you."

Peter thinks you might only hire him because you feel bad about his interview.

It's either that or literally nobody else applied for the job, because if his resume didn't make it glaringly obvious, Peter Parker had never made a good cup of coffee in his life.

"What'd'ya got?"

You're standing next to him, one leg crossed over the other as you lean against the counter with your hands on your hips and you're grinning— grinning like this is not so secretly your favourite part of the job, seeing the hopeless look on the faces of college students when confronted with an industrial coffee machine.

It doesn't help that the heat hasn't fully kicked in and it's freezing in the store, and the radiating yellow light is a piercing contrast to the early morning darkness he had walked through to get here. That, and Peter had been out patrolling until 2am.

"Literally nothing."

You try and fail to conceal your laugh, push yourself away from the counter to walk towards him. "Ok, you watch first and then try."

Peter definitely watches. He's a little memorized if he's being honest, the sure deftness of your movements, the inexplicable grace of it, has to snap himself out of his trance every time you turn to make sure he's paying attention.

In a matter of minutes, there's a cup of coffee in your hands, perfect foam heart and all. "Got it?"

"Probably not."

You're still smiling, move to pick up the portafilter on the counter. "Give it your best and I'll only judge you a little, promise."

The furthest Peter gets is successfully not dropping the instrument when you pass it to him, turns towards the machine and immediately freezes, eyebrows set in a perpetual confused pinch.

"Okay, sure, hey. It took me like a month to get the hang of this thing, don't stress."

He feels it before he really registers it, the warmth of your hand slipping over his as you guide him towards the counter. You lean over him to reach for a scoop of grounds, arm brushing over his chest and you're so close he can smell you. Not in a creepy way, just in a proximity kind of way, in the way you smell like coffee, but only the sweetness and none of the bitterness, earthy and deep and caramel.

He thinks that this is bad, what's he's signed up for here, with you, with your hands around his and his brain short circuiting at the contact, immediately forgets almost everything you show him because he's too busy trying not to tremble.

It's a situation that teaches him three very important lessons.

Lesson number one: the universe is conspiring against him.

That's the only logical reason that after a week of skirting around you he finds out you're only a year above him at Empire State, and every subsequent Tuesday and Friday commute from work to school is done together.

As in, a 20 minute walk and a subway trip alone, side by side, just the two of you, and there's only so much you can talk about the shittiest customers 6am had to offer before you inevitably have to talk about yourselves. Peter has to know you and work with you, a set of circumstances which only exacerbates the little tug in his chest he feels every time he sees you.

Lesson number two: the universe is downright fucking with him.

It's a slow afternoon, a store front filled to the brim with empty chairs as Gwen tries to walk him through the till for the dozenth time.

"Oh, hey, turn it up!" You're behind them, suddenly, flick your dishcloth at Gwen until she reaches under the counter to grab the TV remote with a groan.

You slot between them, forearms propped against the counter as you look eagerly up into the television where the newest of Spider-Man's late-night antics were being dramatically displayed.

He's never seen you like this, your regular witty, almost aloof exterior waived for the enamoured expression you adopt, eyes wide and mouth hanging in a slight gape, all because of him. It doesn't matter that you don't know it's him— he still counts it, or at least his ego definitely does.

"Y/n has a crush on Spider-Man," Gwen tells him, looks over with a roll of her eyes.

"Shut up, I do not have a crush on Spider-Man." You flick her with the cloth again, don't get in much damage since your eyes are still glued to the screen. "I just don't think he gets enough credit for all the good that he does around here."

Gwen snorts, crosses her arms. "Like you wouldn't try to jump his bones if you ever met him in real life."

It was cruel, the way you glance at him when you turned around like you knew. Like you knew it was him, knew what it would do to him. You look back at Gwen, meet her with a sly smile. "What? Maybe a little seduction is just repayment for always saving the city."

Therein lies lesson number three: the universe is fucking sadistic.

It's only 8pm, but this deep into Winter there's nothing but pitch black beyond the windows of the back room.

You've somehow convinced Peter to help you do stock take— or, rather, you had asked, and it was impossible for him to say no to you. Either way, it's 8pm and it's dark and it's cold, and you're both clad in heavy coats as you stare at the contents of the walk-in fridge, clipboards in hand.

There's a faint thrum of the music you've put on in the background, but otherwise everything is smothered by the blearing of the fans above you, drowns out so much that neither of your hear the scrape of the chair holding open the door until it's too late.

The sudden thud behind you makes you jump.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Peter turns then, follows the line of your slack expression to the see the sealed door of the walk-in. "That's... not good."

You discard your clip board onto one of the shelves, start a frantic pat down of your body until he hears you start to swear under your breath. "Fuck, I left my phone outside. Do you have yours?"

He mimics your movements, runs his hands over his sides and searches every pocket twice before resurfacing, bares his empty hands.

"Fuck." You look between him and the door a couple times, breath clearly picking up with the quickened rise and fall of your chest.

"Gwen'll be in for prep at 4, right?"

You ignore him, start toward the door, try to no avail to slip your fingers between the sturdy rubber seal. "Fuck!"

Peter watches you pace the length of the fridge, hands on your hips, and consciously considers his two options.

He could pry the door open, subsequently`ending up revealing something he's not exactly willing to tell you just yet, or he could stay here, with you, ostensibly trapped in a walk-in together for the next eight hours.

"I guess we're locked in until then."

You turn to him, frown set as you sigh. "Well, at least we're not gonna starve to death." You collapse against the floor, sit with your back firmly against the shelves as you reach for a bag of shredded cheese.

*****

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with... uh... M."

You turn towards him, find your faces only inches apart in this position you've migrated to, legs tucked to your chests as you sit with your arms pressed together. "If it's milk I already did milk like twenty minutes ago."

"It's not milk."

"Is it a type of milk?"

"That's not how I Spy works."

You sigh, puff your cheeks out with it as you scan the contents of the fridge. "Muffins," You say after a moment, point to the low basket of stale baked goods above you.

"You're way too good at this game."

You hum a laugh, smile as you tilt your head in search of your next object. The tilt leans itself a little too easily to resting your head on his shoulder, and you're too cold and too tired to resist the thought.

Peter looks at you, holds his breath as he takes in the slow rythym of your breath and the warm pressure on his shoulder, the light shudder of your jaw against him. You still smell like coffee, the sweet bite of it cutting through the sterile musk of the fridge. "You're cold."

You laugh again, still don't move to pull away. "No shit, it's like 35 degrees in here."

He does it wordlessly, starts to shift underneath you, forces you upright as he shrugs of his coat.

"Don't be ridiculous, Parker."

"Don't worry," He smiles, that wide, bright, genuine smile that you've been reluctant to admit heats up your insides a little. His coat is in his hands, and he slowly drapes it around your shoulders, swallows you up in the heavy material you hug close. It smells like him, like burnt coffee. "I, uh, run hot."

There's that little tug again, deep in his chest as you watch each other, but this time it's not so little, makes him want to lurch forward with a magnetic force so powerful it almost hurts. You gulp, your voice breathy and whisper quiet when you speak next. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Oh, uh- How do I-"

"And you always do that, too," You start, ignore his stumbling and poke him lightly in the cheek where he's since used up vital body heat to flush. "Blush whenever I notice you staring."

"Sorry," He mumbles, dips his head to hide the impossibly deepening hue of his cheeks.

"It's okay," You laugh, and then there's one finger under his chin, the coolness of your skin meeting inexplicable heat of his. You tilt his face back up towards yours. "It's only creepy some of the time."

You don't pull away, even as he's looking you in the eye and smiling lightly and you try to comprehend how one person can look so adorable when they blush. You tell yourself it's the heat.

And there's definitely heat involved, a collision of it when you both lean in at the same time and his mouth is on yours, hot and open and sweet.

Cold hands come up to frame your face and then you're in his lap in a heatbeat, the coat around your shoulders pooling over his shins, arms around his neck and fingers tangling into his hair.

"You're warm," You mumble, slip the words quietly between kisses, makes him smile against you before he's pulling away to look up at you.

"Told you I run hot," He smiles, feels you hum when he leans up to kiss along the line of your jaw.

"I can think of a way we can get a little warmer."

Peter pulls away to look at you, keeps you in place with one hand on your cheek as the other arms wraps firmly around your waist. "You sure?"

"Yes, please," You mutter, breathless, kiss him as your hands move down to work open the button of your jeans.

It seems counterintuitive, to start undressing when you're trapped in the cold. But then again, sharing body heat was good for that sort of thing.

Bare skin meets the harsh cool air, but Peter's never felt anything as hot as your palm pressing against him through his boxers.

You hum again, seemingly satified, press curved lips to his. "It's always the shy ones."

He opens his mouth to ask, is immediately cut off by your hands slipping under the band of his boxers and then you're touching him, makes him gasp into you mouth as you slowly stroke him.

The whining moan he lets out is enough to make you clench around nothing, warmth rushing to your lower half as he bucks into your touch. "God, you're pretty."

"Pretty sure that's-" You're still stroking the length of him, jolts of pleasure running up his spine that make him curl his toes in his shoes and momentarily forget how to speak. "Pretty sure that's my line."

"Both can be true," You smile, and then your hand is gone, leaves him cold and aching as you move to pull aside your panties.

You kneel up, use your free hand to tilt his face up to kiss him and he takes the hint, takes himself in his hand to line up with your entrance as you settle back down.

There's a flood of warmth as you start to sink onto him, the sharing of hot breath as mouths open over the other.

It somehow feels too hot, like he needs to start ripping off the layers still covering his upper half and feel the bare skin of your chest against his.

"How does that feel?" You're looking at him, breathing heavy, eyebrows pinched lightly together, ask for permission before moving.

"Pefect," He breathes, and then he's leaning up, kisses you swollen. "Fuck, you feel perfect."

There's already sweat sticking the material of your sweater to your back as soon as you start moving, slow at first, ease the pace until his hand is slipping from your waist to your hip and encouraging the rock of your body.

It makes your knees ache, cold against the harsh plastic floor, but you can't really think about that when everything else drowns it out, the stretch of him filling you up and the nudge of his cock against your g-spot with every descent and the friction of your bodies.

"God, Pete. Fuck."

His grip on you is tighter now, fingers digging into the flesh of his hips as he starts to meet your movements with his own thrusts.

Your own grip shifts upwards, slips around his throat so you can tilt his head to the side and kiss up his neck and along his jaw, savour the sharper jerks of his hips every time you sink your teeth in to nip at the soft skin.

He feels the rush of warm air against the shell of his ear when he slips his hand between you, presses his thumb to your clit to start rubbing tight circles.

And it could be the cirumstances, the spontaneous flurry of action that's brought you here, or the fact that he's been fantasizing about this moment for months of lonesome late nights, or a steady culmination of everything leading up to this, but Peter can't deny the sudden tightening low in his stomach.

"Gonna cum," He mutters, nudges his nose against your chin as he looks up at you, mouth open and eyebrows knit taut. "Need to cum so bad, y/n, fuck. Feels so fucking good."

The words alone are enough to make you flutter around him, pick up the rocking of your hips as you kiss him hard, lean in to speak with your lips brushing over his. "Want me to tell you to cum inside of me? That what you want, sweetheart? Wanna fill me up?"

"Yes," He whispers, breathless, looks you right in the eye as he asks. "Please- fuck, please let me cum inside you."

The movement of his thumb over your clit is faster now, pushes you closer and closer to the edge until you're so busy breathing in quick, stuttered gasps that finding the words to answer him becomes almost impossible.

"'M right with you, baby. Want you to cum for me."

Everything is sticky and laboured and hot, a pocket of overwhelming heat in the middle of this fridge as Peter stills inside you, warms you from the inside out as you come apart around him, fingers tight in his hair and digging into his shoulder.

You're chests are still heaving, arms tightening around your waist, breathing laughs into sloppy kisses as you lean your forehead against his.

You hardly have time to cool down before there's a sound from somewhere outside, a heavy metallic thud that makes you both widen your eyes and jolt away from each other in a rush to redress.

"You know this is the third-" Gwen stops dead in her tracks, gapes a little at the sight of you and Peter on the floor, frantically buttoning your jeans. "You're both fucking disgusting."

"What are you-" You have to cough a little to clear your throat, shake you head and your shoulders loose to try and regain your composure. "What time is it?"

"It's midnight, I got an alert saying the alarm hadn't been set... I can't believe you two got locked in a fridge and your first instinct was to fuck."

"We, uh-" Peter's the one clearing his throat now, flushes bright red as he looks from you to Gwen. "We played I spy for like... two hours."

request something! masterlist

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bluemusickid · 3 years

Note

Ok so I have been this fantasy about Chris Evans lately... the reader and he are friends and Chris has a girlfriend but she’s not satisfying him in the bedroom and you guys get a little tipsy one night and you end up making all his naughty dreams a reality... and there will be lots of dirty talk like, “she can’t make you feel like this... or does her mouth feel as good as my mouth does, etc”... I need you to work your smutty magic on this one! Could be for any of his characters too! Whatever you’d prefer! ❤️

As much as I abhor cheating........this is a sexy one. Thanks for this one, nonnie!!

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, SMUUT, NSFW, minors DNI, drunk sex, dubcon (if you squint).

A/N: wHEW, this one was a toughie. I wanted to draw the line somewhere lol, but oh well. Hope you like it! MINORS PLS DNI. Not beta’ed, all mistakes are my own. You are responsible for your media consumption. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

This is my entry to my own challenge (lol). The colour I have chosen is red, which symbolises passion, danger, excitement. <3

You took a swig from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste, the sight in front of you even more bitter than the drink itself. It would have to be your worst luck that Andy Barber was here at the party, but his girlfriend as well? Killed you.

It was especially worse since you had a humongous crush on him, which didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried. It was even worse that you had to act normal around him at work, for fear of being mocked or ridiculed by your coworkers.

Andy Barber had completely encompassed your world and was a part of every waking moment. You watched him get tipsier as time passed, dancing around with his friends, his girl not leaving his side even once. If looks could kill, she’d be dead by now.

Deciding that you needed some air, you stepped out, only faltering a bit as the alcohol was steadily making itself known. Trying to light a cigarette, you heard a few voices from the garage. Your good manners were screaming at you not to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it. The liquid courage was winning over.

“So she doesn’t go down on you?” a voice asked. You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Uh..” you heard the answering voice sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. Oh my gosh it was Andy. You waited with bated breath for his answer, not knowing what to expect.

"I mean we're happy with each other, she's a great girl, very kind and she's great with Jacob. But there's just no spark." He trailed off, slurring a bit at the end.

You didn't know what to feel about this little tidbit you heard; your brain was telling you that it was wrong to feel good but your senses, your mind was in jubilation. You scuttled off inside before you were caught, this new piece of information even more intoxicating than the alcohol.

You stumbled your way into a bedroom, trying desperately to find a washroom. Why was this place so goddamn big? You mused, relieving yourself, the earlier conversation playing in your head on loop. Shaking yourself mentally, you realised there was nothing you could do about it.

Stepping out, you nearly fell as you bumped into something, your foot getting caught in the doorframe. Strong arms grab onto your biceps, steadying you as you managed to straighten yourself. You looked up to thank the stranger, instead finding yourself looking into the eyes of your dream man.

"Are you ok?" He muttered, his voice soft against your ears. You inhaled sharply, your core tightening in response.

"I am now that you're here." You rasped, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. Did you just say that? You had no game, generally.

He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent coworker?"

Mesmerized, you gaze at him in wonder. "Who said anything about me being innocent? I'm not a goody two shoes, I'm different." He looked at you, mildly amused. "Oh yeah? What makes you different?"

"Well, for starters, I know how to go down on my man." You whispered in his ear, moving past him, your hip brushing against his.

You had no time to register when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his chest colliding against your back. You gasped, turning around to face him, annoyance etched on his face. “What did you say?” he growled, his breath fanning your face.

Smirking, you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the crinkle between his eyebrows. “The walls have ears too, you know.” you murmured, stepping closer to him. The rough material of his pants was grazing your thigh, your core throbbing with need now.

Running a finger down his torso, you stopped at the button of his jeans, looking into his eyes, wanting some reaction. Silently, you softly palmed him through his jeans, revelling in the sharp intake of his breath. You looked up at him, for permission to continue, acceptance slowly seeping into his eyes.

Undoing his zipper, you graze your fingers over his boxers, the tent in his underwear causing your core to clench.

“Can she get you this hard with just one touch?" You softly whispered, running your nose along his. He closed his eyes, his palms closing into a fist. You could feel him mentally warring with his emotions, his body betraying him.

You entangled your lips with his, tugging on his lower lip, as you pulled down his underwear. "I bet she can't do this."

You ran your tongue in one single strip along his length, the tip of your tongue circling around the tip of his member. He moaned softly, his hands undulating, as he tried to stop himself from burying them into your hair. Grinning salaciously, you said, "Answer me, Andy. Can she?"

He gulped, his mouth thinning into a line. "No." He muttered, through gritted teeth. That's just what you wanted to hear. And so you began your amorous assault, taking him in your mouth till he was buried to the hilt. You swirled your tongue, letting your underside work his length. He groaned, his hands finally making their way into your hair, his resolve now fully broken. Bobbing your head around his length, you could feel him slowly thrusting deeper into your mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled you up, throwing you over his shoulder and dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Stunned, you were about to retort, but were cut off by his insistent lips. Gathering your wrists in one hand, he tried to tug off your panties, his impatience winning over as he tore them off, the material dangling limply from one of your legs. He circled your nub, his need to be within you ebbing steadily.

Bracing himself on his arms, his fingers locking with yours, he thrust into you in one move, leaving you breathless. His eyes trained onto you, seeing every emotion on your face, spurred him on, as he pounded into you. There was no other way to describe it except frantic coupling. Crossing your ankles, you pushed him deeper, the new angle hitting your front wall, your thighs quivering from the sensory overload. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked thoroughly, like a whore?". You gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts, the depth and intensity in his eyes scaring you a bit. "Drop the act, sweetheart. I've seen you in office, swaying those fuckin' hips, batting your eyelashes. Don't act like you didn't want my cock in your pretty pussy, fucking you till you wept."

His words made you feel ashamed but in the deepest, darkest part of your heart, they turned you on like nothing else. They fed your libido, which was already wound tightly around his manhood. This man had you wound around his pinky, but you didn't mind. If that was the cost you had to pay to make him yours, you would pay it.

Pushing your legs up, he let go of your hands to caress your swollen bud. You screamed as the new position left you seeing stars, your legs nearly losing sensation, a warmth seeping through your body. Your silky walls grasped him tightly, to the point where you became one, as he shouted his release. Pulling out, he panted as he glanced at the sight in front of him; your overstimulated lips swollen and wet, messy from your intermingling fluids. He cleaned you up with a wet washcloth as you dozed, leaving as quietly as he could.

You woke up after some time, your limbs and pussy sore, you relishing the ache. You didn't see Andy anywhere, but you did see your clothes neatly kept in a pile at the foot of the bed. You were just about to reach for them when your phone dinged with a message alert. Bemused, you checked and saw it was from Andy.

"See you in office, sweetheart. P.S. Wear a skirt. Don't be late."

Part 2

Tags: @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @ozarkthedog @savior-adriana @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @denisemarieangelina @chris-butt @patzammit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @worksby-d @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @bigchoose @violentyoshi

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Request: Yes or No

Ppl seemed to like the Imagine and nobody really said anything about it being a fic but I like that (Y/N) sooo. For anyone confused about the root things, (Y/N) has root bracelets on each wrist that he can control. He can't make roots come out of his hands or anything. (Y/N) isn't gender neutral ik I use second person for a gender neutral reader but I'm starting to rlly like second person view lmao. If people like this enough, I might keep this fic going to Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame.

You placed your hands on the sides of the pot, watching the dead flower slowly regain its color. You could hear the faint sound of chatting and music from the party Tony was holding. Parties were never your thing. Parties meant crowds of nosy people with nothing else better to do. You heard your bedroom door open, turning around and looking at Clint.

"Hey, why don't you come downstairs? The party's ending." Clint offered a small smile, holding his side. You looked back at the flower, standing and gently placing it back with the other flowers on your desk. You approached Clint, feeling him gently wrap an arm around your shoulder.

"How's Laura?" You asked softly. Clint grinned, licking his lips as he glanced at you. You liked Clint. He was like the father or older brother you never had.

"She misses you. She mentioned wanting you to move in once training was complete." Clint revealed, looking at you. You blinked, brows raising as you stared at his face, wondering if he was joking.

"Think it over." Clint gave your shoulder a small squeeze as you joined the others, nodding to Maria. She gave a nod in return, a small tight smile on her face. You didn't blame them for not trusting you. You had attempted to kill them a few times out of fear. You took a seat on the couch, watching the Avengers laugh and chat. You stayed silent, fingers gently tracing the root bracelets.

"You thought of those yourself?" Maria asked softly, tilting her head. You looked at her, nodding.

"Having them on me makes me feel safer." You replied quietly, looking back at the roots. You continued to trace them, watching them shift slightly at your touch. Dr. Cho leaned over, humming in fascination.

"It's incredible how responsive they are to you." She whispered softly, meeting your gaze briefly for permission. You nodded, watching her reach out and touch them.

"How much can you feel? Or is it just a control thing?" She asked.

"Uhm, I know when they're dying or are in need of something but they don't feel pain so.. Hurting them doesn't hurt me." You explained. Dr. Cho nodded in understanding, leaning back.

"I'd love to ask you more questions later, if you don't mind." She gave a kind smile. You looked up upon hearing grunts, watching Clint attempt to pick up Mjollnir while Thor watched on in amusement. He gave up, chuckling. Tony went next, the smug look on his face disappearing when he couldn't lift it. You chuckled softly, watching James try to help Tony but the hammer didn't even budge.

"(Y/N), why don't you give it a try?" Clint asked after Bruce went. You licked your lips, glancing at the Avengers when their gazes went to you.

"Uhm-"

"Go on, give it a try." Thor encouraged with a a big smile. You stood up, walking up to the table where the hammer sat. You grabbed the handle, roots slithering down your hands and wrapping around the hammer. You pulled, suprised to find it was definitely harder than it looked.

"Don't pull a muscle, kid." Clint called, chuckling as you huffed, letting go of it and retracting the roots. You took a seat beside Clint, gently leaning against him as Steve went next. He went at it but wasn't able to lift it.

"It's rigged." Tony called with a shrug as Clint stood, a chuckle leaving him.

"You bet your ass."

"Steve, he said a bad language word." Maria pointed out in playful seriousness. You chuckled softly. Clint had told you all about Steve and the bad language joke. You stood up, about to call it a day before a ringing noise stopped you in your tracks. You looked up, noticing a half built robot limping into the room, mumbling stuff.

"Clint?" You called out, frowning. Clint looked at you before turning around, standing up as everyone's attention shifted to the robot. Clint slowly backed up until you were within arms reach. He knew you could protect yourself but he cared about you too much to let you get hurt.

"How could you be worthy? You're all killers." The robot said, motioning at them with its broken arm.

"Stark?" Steve's gaze stayed locked on the robot. The robot continued to speak, stumbling about. He replayed a clip of Stark saying something. Maria took out her gun, slowly standing up. Clint immediately grabbed you when the robots bursted into the room, pulling you along and hiding.

"Stay here." Clint whispered, standing up. You frowned, watching him go. Your looked over the room, noticing Dr. Cho attempting to hide behind the piano. You stood, quickly going over to her as a robot rose up. You raised your hand, making a root shoot out at it and wrap around its neck, throwing the robot to the side and watching it break.

"Thank you." Dr. Cho whispered as things began to calm down. You helped her stand, making eye contact with Clint as Thor threw his hammer at 'Ultron', breaking him into pieces.

"(Y/N), go to your room." Clint breathed out.

"No, he deserves to know what happened here." Steve said, giving you a nod.

~~~~~~~~~

You licked your lips, glancing at Clint when he silently drew an arrow. You unclenched your fists, watching the root bracelets around your wrists grow and wrap around your fingers. You were surprised you had even been asked to tag along considering you were still new and young. You watched the Maximoff twins, stare at Tony with pure hatred. Not long ago, you were also an enemy of the Avengers. Clint had taken you under his wing, practically adopting you after everything. You assumed you were only allowed to tag along because of your powers. You had gained better control of them over time.

"Stay alert and stay close." Clint told you, shooting the arrow once the fight began. You watched the robots, nodding. You leaned forward, slightly over the railing, fingers moving. The roots wrapped around them shot out, wrapping around one of the robots that had lunged for Steve. You moved your arms back and apart, watching the robot be ripped apart. Steve looked up towards you, giving a greatful nod. Clint grinned, drawing another arrow. You noticed a flash of blue and white running below, keeping an eye on it. Another root shot out, successfully making the male Maximoff trip and stumble. You retracted the root, shifting your attention onto the men with guns.

"What a shitshow." You muttered, sighing softly. Clint glanced at you in amusement.

"Language." He called playfully, chuckling when he heard Steve groan. You let a small smile slip, roots wrapping around the necks of two of the gunmen. You slowly clenched your fists, making the roots strangle them. You heard Thor mention something about the Maximoff girl trying to mind control him.

"Drop 'em." Clint said, giving you a pointed look. "Only make them pass out, don't kill them."

"Fine." You huffed, dropping the men with a small scowl. Clint shot an arrow that knocked out a whole floor, giving a satisfied hum. You heard soft footsteps, spinning around and grabbing the girl Maximoff by the throat, grip tightening with each passing second. Her eyes were wide, caught off guard. Fear flashed in them briefly. Clint quickly planted an electrical arrow on her forehead. You removed your hands, glancing at Clint.

"You seriously need some freshing up on those people skills." Clint said, shaking his head. You scoffed, head tilting slightly.

"She's the enemy!"

"No killing-" You were suddenly shoved forward, bumping into Clint and crashing into what seemed like a control room. You grunted as pain struck up your back, turning your head and watching Pietro pick up his sister bridal style. You shot out your hand but he dodged the roots, using his superspeed to run off.

"Yeah, you better run." You heard Clint breath out. You turned towards him, roots retracting completely.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, feeling glass digging into your hands as you slowly stood up, grunting softly. There was definitely gonna be a big bruise on your back when you checked later. You helped Clint stand, watching him attempt to contact the others. You leaned over the railing, seeing Steve laying on some stairs. You raised your hand, having the roots grab onto something sturdy before jumping over the railing and heading down to the floor he was at. You approached him, crouching down, cupping his face and seeing his red eyes and dazed look.

"The girl got to Steve." You said, sighing softly.

"Natasha as well." Clint replied. "Seems like the whole team is out of commission."

"Wonder what they're seeing." You muttered, standing and having the roots gently wrap around Steve's arms and waist. They were thin so dragging him along was the only choice.

"Having fun on your first mission yet?"

"Oh, fuck off, Clint." You called with a huff, trying to drag America's sweetheart across a ship, avoiding bodies and trying to keep his head from bumping into stuff.

"Sorry, buddy." You winced, watching Steve's head bump against some steps. Once outside, you were able to drag him along with more ease, getting him inside the step as Clint went to get Thor. Natasha had slowly come out of her daze, groaning softly and holding her head. You looked at him, gently slapping him. Steve gasped, panting softly as his blue eyes met your (E/C) ones.

"Welcome back." You muttered, standing up.

"What happened?" Natasha asked, looking at you with furrowed brows. She looked around the ship, standing.

"Where's Banner?" She asked with a frown. You rubbed the back of your neck, stepping aside so Steve could get up.

"He.. He and Stark are in the city. He hulked out." You told her, concern appearing on her features. Natasha cursed under her breath, though her mind seemed to be somewhere else. You turned towards the entrance, seeing Tony with Bruce. Clint returned with Thor, silence filling the air as Clint got the aircraft in the air. Clint motioned for you to get closer, a smile appearing on his face.

"You did amazing today." The praise made you smile, nodding as you glanced down at the ground. It had been your first real fight.

"Does that mean-"

"Not yet, we still need to work on some things. Soon enough, you'll be officially part of the team." Clint assured. You nodded, taking a seat nearby and sighing. Clint steered the ship to his home, landing it. The Avengers seemed confused at the unknown location but you happily got out of the aircraft. Clint chuckled, watching you head up to the house and enter.

"Honey? We've got company!" Clint called. Laura appeared from one of the rooms, smile widening.

"Hey, sweetie." Laura cooed, arms extending and wrapping around you. Both of you chuckled when the baby kicked.

"Someone's happy to see you too." Laura smiled, placing a hand on her belly before greeting Clint with a kiss.

"Gentlemen, this is Laura." Clint introduced her to the team. You enjoyed Laura's company. Her warmness was welcoming and she had been more than happy to take you in. Footsteps echoed lightly, preparing Clint to greet his kids. You smiled, watching them greet him. Natasha had been the only other one who knew about Clint's family. Lila gasped softly upon seeing you, quickly running towards you. You bent down, picking her up and chuckling.

"Miss me?" You asked, giving her a gentle hug. Laura looked over, smiling softly.

"Of course she missed they missed their cool big brother." Laura said, giggling softly when Lila noticed Natasha and happily went over to hug her. Cooper took Lila's spot, giving you a big grin. Thor suddenly left the house, Steve following.

"What have you been up to?" You asked, watching Coppers eyes light up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you along to his room. Laura and Clint hadn't officially adopted you but they were more than happy to do it. Once you were done with training, they were gonna get the papers and make you a Barton.

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

Text

The Purest Things-Jack

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Nothing. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: a short one but cute one :)

au! november 2007

the purest things masterlist

au! november 2007

Bookend: The innocence of children is what makes them stand out as a shining example to the rest of Mankind. — Kurt Chambers

Everything in your house has slumbered beneath silken dust, awaiting the day that a fresh wind would polish it clean. The past two months were filled with cases that kept you on the go. At last, there was a lull that allowed your team to have a few off days. So, you invited everyone over for a small dinner party at your house.

Running over to the stove to stir the bubbling sauce, you glance at the clock on the microwave and see that people will be arriving at any time. Right on time, the doorbell rings.

You skip over to the door and are met with the glowing faces of Penelope, Derek, and David. "Come in!" You exclaim as they wipe their feet on the doormat. Looping your arm around David's, you walk him to the kitchen, "Don't be too hard on me now. I am no artist of cuisine, but I give it my best when I go all out."

He glances at the dishes you've prepared, taking a wooden spoon and tasting your sauce, "My child, you are a prodigy! I must refine your ways: next Saturday, you and me, a lesson in Italian cuisine." "It's a date," you chirp.

Another chime of the doorbell alerts you to more visitors. "I got it," you shout behind you as you stroll to the door. On the other side of the door is Spencer, JJ, Hotch, and a little boy gripping his hand. Jack.

"Why hello there," you kneel to meet him at his level. He smiles a crooked half-smile, leaning against Aaron's leg. "Say hi," he squeezes Jack's shoulder. Instead of responding, he pulls out of his father's grasp and wobbles into the foyer. His little knees are like hinges, slowly but surely hoisting his toddler body further into the house. You can't help but giggle at how awkward his movements are, a feeling of warmth overcoming you because of the undeniable cuteness.

Lifting yourself off the ground, you greet your guests and welcome them inside.

"How old is Jack?" You ask Aaron.

"He turned two last month," he beams while admiring his young son.

"He looks like you."

"He's his mother through and through." ++++ You search for Jack and find him in the hallway, bouncing and clapping his hands as if listening to music in his mind. Unable to hide your smile, you catch the attention of David and Aaron, who stand in the foyer.

"She's taken a liking to Jack," David notes.

Aaron does not verbally respond, but his hint of a grin signals Rossi to his feelings on the matter.

Jack trips over to you, his moves formed out of chaos and not by any scientific behavior that even the great Spencer Reid could explain. You giggle as he stumbles onto the floor next to you. "Hey," you whisper playfully, "I need help finishing dinner. Why don't you come help me, and we can keep you out of trouble." Reaching your arms out to Jack, you offer to carry him into the kitchen. His words run into one another and are entirely incomprehensible.

"I'll take that as a yes," you scoop him into your arms and place him on the kitchen counter. Handing him some noodles to play with, you keep him occupied.

"She's great with him too," David nods.

Aaron doesn't need David to tell him that, though. He is observing it all for himself. His life was turned upside down when he became a father. Aaron had been blessed with a son. And along with that son came a sacred duty, to raise him in a life filled with love and protection. He knows that he has made some poor choices and has failed to prioritize his son in certain life aspects. However, he refuses to make those same mistakes again.

Aaron has to navigate this new role as a "single" parent all alone, though. He can contact Haley when necessary, but he wants to create a safe little bubble for Jack to come to when with him. Aaron doesn't have a family as Haley does. They are estranged from one another. The BAU team is the closest thing he has to family now. And here you are, the newest member, solidifying your role in this family and now your position in Aaron and Jack's. ++++ With the table set, dishes served, and everyone seated, you begin your feast. Jack insisted on sitting next to you, and you willingly obliged him. Aaron sits on the opposite side of his son, feeding him small portions of food that he can easily chew.

Jack starts to bounce up and down on his bottom; his eyes are wide, and his mouth already partly open. He is eyeing the spaghetti that wraps around your fork. When the first food goes into your mouth, he has a slightly crestfallen look but then starts his celebratory bounce again as his father draws his attention back to his tiny bites.

"Aaron?"

He looks up at you, "Yes?"

"How about I feed Jack so that you can eat your dinner?"

"No, you should eat."

"I've been taste-testing this meal all day. Please, enjoy it."

He agrees and hands you the spoon. For the remainder of dinner, you fly each scoop like an airplane into Jack's little mouth. ++++ As everyone prepares to leave, Aaron lingers...a slumbering little boy in his arms.

"Did you forget something in the house," you question, "One of Jack's toys?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I just wanted to thank you for preparing dinner, hosting us all in your home, and somehow managing to give Jack the time of his life tonight."

"It was my pleasure. And hanging with Jack? That was the icing on top of the cake for me," you softly pat Jack's back so as not to wake him.

Parting ways, you say goodnight to one another. You watch from the front doorstep as Aaron straps Jack into his car seat. He waves at you one last time as he gets into the passenger seat. Fondly, you wave back to him. There is so much to admire about that man. The thought of the Hotchner boys alarmingly keeps you up all night.

Sleeplessness is a part of your job, but at least tonight, you aren't restless because of the nightmares or the vivid images from cases that haunt your mind. No, you are awake because your heart is full. Fullness, an unfamiliar feeling that has been taking root in your heart since you joined the BAU. A feeling that you pray never disappears.

tag list 🏷

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Late in the Night | Part Four

Previous part

Prompt: Friends have a bet how long it will take the ship to get together (Content Challenge Day 7)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1602

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

^^ Hey! If I haven't commented on your post(s) yet, it just means I haven't gotten the chance to read them. School has been ramping up, but as I have free moments, I'll be going back and looking at all your challenge posts <3

A/n: You guys...IT'S THE LAST PROMPT OF THE CONTENT CHALLENGE! What?! Thank you so much to everyone who participated and interacted with our posts. I had such a blast creating this past week and getting to know each and every one of you. I think it would be fun to do something like this again in the future, so let me know if you would like to be involved in planning/get updates!

As always, I encourage you to check out the accounts tagged above and our masterlists! You can find the challenge masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, enjoy :)

Aragorn waits, keeping an eye on the trees.

The minute his friends from the eastern inn arrive, they will leave town.

He had a pleasant night — private room, hot bath, well-prepared meals — but is ready to get back on their journey. For all he knows, the brief rest he allowed them could have already cost them vital time.

That thought causes him to pace.

“Calm yourself, dear friend, they will be along shortly,” Gandalf councils.

Aragorn tries to heed the wise wizard’s advice. Sure enough, he soon hears the light sounds of feet crushing grass and twigs, and knows they are close.

The four of them break into sight at roughly the same time, and Aragorn notices two things:

One, Legolas and Y/n refuse to look at each other.

Two, Gimli wears a grin bright enough to rival the sun.

Aragorn knows he must speak with the dwarf as soon as possible.

Something has happened.

Merry, who doesn’t get enough credit for his observation skills, notices the oddities too, and elbows Pippin in the side. Their eyes grow wide, and it takes everything in them not to shout guesses as to what this means.

It is a good while before Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, and Gimli have a chance to convene and discuss the new development. All four of them, though of course dedicated to the task at hand, desperately want a resolution to their ongoing bet.

It had started innocently enough.

Merry made an off-hand comment about how well Legolas and Y/n seem to get along. Gimli noticed the lass was a clumsier fighter when Legolas was watching. Aragorn realized his friend seemed nervous around the human woman. Pippin saw how each of them smiled brighter when the other was near.

Somehow or other, the four of them had put together their observations, and the rest is history.

The bet was born.

Each of them had put down fifteen coins and a deadline, losing the coins if Legolas and Y/n did not become a couple by the deadline, and winning coins if they did. Knowing his friend’s shy nature well, Aragorn had given the two the lengthiest allowance — six months. Pippin and Merry recognized the bold nature of humans, and guessed it would only take four months for Y/n to speak her mind and Legolas to reciprocate. Gimli, on the other hand, thought the two were already head-over-heels for each other and wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, and had given them only a month and a half.

Each participant, knowing his deadline was drawing nearer, had taken steps to push the two in the right direction.

The hobbit friends moved Legolas’ and Y/n’s bedrolls closer when they weren’t looking.

Aragorn put them on watch together. A lot. To the point where he actually felt bad about the bags under Y/n’s eyes.

But Gimli, perhaps, had been the boldest of them all, and proudly tells his friends so the moment they are alone much later that evening.

“Quickly, they are suspicious why it took four of us to gather firewood and herbs,” Aragorn mutters, darting a quick glance in the direction of camp.

“Yes, just get on with it,” Pippin squeaks, then throws a hand over his mouth, knowing he might alert Legolas with his volume.

“Alright, listen up lads.” Gimli grins and proudly tells his tale. “Boromir and I got to the inn first, as planned, and the innkeeper asked how many were in our party. I said two, and the innkeeper made a comment how it was good we didn’t have more folk waiting outside, as his inn was almost full. Well, that got me thinkin’, so I inquired how many more rooms were available. The innkeeper said two, not including the ones Boromir and I purchased. So I whipped out my velvet pouch and paid for another room, fibbin’ a bit and saying I might have a lady friend visiting and wasn’t sure if she would want to sleep in my room or not after our activities.” He wiggles his eyebrows in response to the stunned looks of his friend.

Aragorn shakes his head slowly, a bemused smile setting in his lips. “So you paid for an extra room just to force Legolas and Y/n into sharing?”

“Right you are,” Gimli grins, placing his fists on his hips. “It wasna even that expensive — I’ll make it back three times over, now that I’ve won this thing.”

“Ah, ah, ah, hold on,” Merry holds up a hand, halting Gimli’s gloat. “You can’t prove they did or said anything to start a courtship, so you haven’t won!”

“They won’t even look at each other and the elf’s as red as a strawberry, of course something happened,” Gimli practically shouts.

Aragorn, reliably a voice of reason, intervenes. “We shall have to inquire then, but be smart about it. We do not want to jeopardize their potential courtship with our game.”

The companions agree, then quickly turn to the forest, gathering firewood and herbs to supplement Sam’s soup and their cover story.

{***}

Back at camp, Legolas sits on a low tree branch, keeping watch over all his friends.

But mostly Y/n.

He cannot pull his eyes from her face. She sits on a rock, staring into the fire, absently cleaning the mud from her boots. Without permission, his mind goes back to the way he held her this morning, tucked against his chest, her leg wrapped around his. It was wildly improper, and he should be ashamed of himself.

But he doesn’t feel ashamed. Because the way they woke up this morning didn’t feel improper, it felt natural. With all his heart, Legolas wants to wake up like that every morning — his favorite person kept safely against his side. He wants to guard her and give her a wonderful life and bring her home and have his people adore her, too.

Legolas’ resolve hardens, because he knows he can no longer keep this to himself. Y/n has a right to know how he feels, because it affects her too.

He pushes himself from the branch, landing on the ground in silence. With four long strides, he stops beside her, reaching down a hand. “Will you talk with me?”

She looks up at him, nerves like she’s never felt before erupting within her. But she gathers her courage, forces what she hopes is a smile, and takes Legolas’ hand.

She wonders what he’ll say.

All day, she had been lost in embarrassment. Somehow in the night, she’d thrown her leg over his and practically attached herself to his chest — who does that?! And he’d said nothing when they woke up, only got up and went about his routine like normal.

So obviously, he doesn’t feel anything for her.

And that’s what this conversation has to be about.

Briefly, though, she allows herself to remember what it felt like to be in his embrace, and knows that she will cherish that feeling forever.

The warmth of his hand in hers helps her hold on to that memory and, to her surprise, when they reach a secluded spot, he does not let go. No, he takes her other hand in his, clutching both tightly.

Legolas nearly shakes with nerves, and he wonders if she can tell? Does she know how he feels like he might be sick? Oh, he has never felt anxiety like this before, and desperately wishes for it to be gone.

So he wastes no time in putting himself out of his misery.

“I want to be with you.”

Y/n blinks. Surely she can’t have heard him correctly? “What?”

Legolas sighs — her reaction gives him no indication how she feels either way. He bolsters his courage, and tries again. “I feel affection for each member of this Fellowship. But whereas I love the others as if they were my kin, I am unable to deny that how I love you is different. Elves live long lives and thus take matters of the heart very seriously. And, well,” he shrugs, all eloquence leaving him the moment he sees the shy, hopeful smile spread across her lips. “My heart is with you.”

Y/n can hardly believe her ears. She thought that he didn’t…that there was no chance of…but rather than dwell on all her miscalculations, or the myriad of dangers that haunt their future, she decides to just enjoy the moment. She throws her arms around Legolas’ neck, and he grips her tightly against him.

She turns her cheek to rest on his shoulder, unable to contain her grin. “You hold mine as well. I love you, Legolas.”

He pulls back only to rest his forehead against hers, head swimming from the joy of her acceptance and at being this close to her. “And I love you.” She lets out a giddy laugh and he closes his eyes, soaking in the sound. But then he focuses again, for there is something important he still must ask. “Will you accept my offer of courtship?”

Y/n can’t help herself from bumping her nose against his affectionately, and it feels so wonderful, so free to be with him this way. She has no desire for her future to continue without him, and so, her answer is found easily. “Of course.”

Relief settles in Legolas’ bones, the nerves finally leaving him and being replaced with happiness.

Just as their lips meet, the four friends break through the tree-line, back from collecting supplies.

Gimli’s triumphant shout can be heard for miles.

“Pay up, lads!”

A/n The end! This is the last chapter of this mini-series! Thanks for sticking with me as I had some fun with this one. I keep tag-lists, so at any time, just let me know if you would like to be tagged in anything. I’m in the planning stages of a Haldir x OC fic, and while I usually stay away from OC’s, I just cannot fathom typing “Y/n” for the length that I’m planning on making that story. So be on the lookout for that! Hope you all are taking care of yourselves and please know that my inbox is always open. Lots of love!

LITN tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama @hirokosoul @wellfuckmyexistence @ipsychosocial @anjhope1 @my-lotr-obsession-is-unhealthy

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jjksblackgf · 3 years

Text

shh!

pairing — kim taehyung x female reader genre — smut word count — 1.4k summary — “Would this time be the time where a photographer was following us, ready to destroy our future?” warning — explicit sexual content, public sex, exhibitionism, female masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus

a/n — To create a good image in my head of this story, I watched several Singularity and Blood, Sweat and Tears fancams. This information doesn’t add to the story but I needed you to know ksjsksks, enjoy <3

Dating Taehyung is an extreme sport, your heart races multiple times a day. First, his deep, low, and rich voice right to your ear and he wakes up; second, as you open your eyes to look at him, his beauty slaps you right in the face; and third, he always knows what’s going to leave you hot and bothered.

One of the ways he loved to do it was through sex, trying different positions, sex toys, experimenting with most fantasies and kinks. He once roleplayed with you, satisfying this one desire of yours, and you would pay him back with one fantasy he never tried before: public sex. You had agreed with it and he was just waiting for the right moment to use his card.

“What if I take you right there in the bathroom?” he whispered in your ear, at BigHit’s Christmas party

“Are you crazy?” You managed to say to him, low enough so people wouldn’t notice “We can’t do that here, and you know it”

“Ok, I won’t do anything today, but just know that one day I will take you on a public place. Practice not to scream my name so loud, I won’t let you know when it’s coming.”

The months went by and you forgot all about your debt, but that thought never left Taehyung’s mind. Every time that you would walk by the beach, or go on a hiking, or even private events, he would watch you close, studying your face to see if that moment would be the moment. He loved the chance of people seeing him doing the most with you.

So now, you both were in a park, far outside the city and a little deserted, but not completely. You were laying on the grass, only protected by the picnic blanket you had brought, eyes closed, letting the sun hit your face, and playing with Taehyung’s hair as he laid down on your lap.

You lifted one leg, and as Tae looked to his side, the picnic basket was covering the space between your folded leg. Jackpot. You felt his grin at the same time as you heard his chuckle. You looked at him, trying to guess his expression through his sunglasses but he only wiggled his eyebrows, making you wonder the sudden spike in happiness.

“It’s payback time” He said, and you didn’t connect the dots until he licked his fingertips and slid aside your loose romper and panties, leaving you exposed.

You were now sitting almost straight, your palms touching the ground, you wanted to look natural to the people who were walking at a distance.

“Are you seriously-” you cut your sentence short as soon as his fingers touched your clit, getting immersed in pleasure

“Tell me to stop and I will” He said trying to look at you through the open space between his face and his glasses. He stopped his movements but he let his fingers still on your clit, anchoring himself in his elbow. You imitated his action and let your head fall back, letting the sun hit it again.

Tae went back to moving his fingers on you, using his new anchor to hold your clothes in place with one hand and work his fingers with the other, just stopping for a brief second so he could lubricate his fingers again, this time using your juices.

“This is crazy” you said to him as you laid back completely again, your hand going to the nape of his head, pulling his hair slightly.

“Pay attention and tell me if people are coming” he demanded and you complied. You double-tapped his shoulders to make him stop as you saw two men walking a little too slow, and he stopped his movements to look at where your head was pointed at.

He slid your clothes back, and he decided to lay on his belly at a perpendicular angle, holding himself up by his elbows again with his head up, not to draw suspicion. The two men stretched for a few seconds and started to jog in the opposite direction, making you both sigh in relief.

“Could you imagine if they were paparazzi?” He laughed it off, but he got into your head, and now you were very alert, various thoughts going through your mind.

You were always able to escape the paparazzi, being very rigid in keeping your relationship a secret, the only people at the company that knew about your relationship were the boys, his manager, and high executives.

So far, the greedy sites had nothing on you. They never tried to sell pictures of you around, not even had baseless rumors or even based ones. But what if they were waiting for the right time to snap a picture? Would this time be the time where a photographer was following us, ready to destroy your future?

You didn’t notice that Taehyung was right by your side, analyzing your face. You only did when his damp fingers touched your jawline. “Tell me what you’re thinking” he had his sunglasses up on his hair, not caring if he would be recognized. “Are you scared?” he asked, and you could only nod your head.

“It’s okay, darling, we can scratch this idea out of the list” he smiled and pecked your lips.

“I love how attentive you are” your hands went to his neck and he grinned widely “And that’s turning the hell out of me” You were glad that you could see his eyes widen as he heard this.

“It’s okay, honey, really, I can-”

“Get down there before I take care of it myself” You cut him off, and you placed his glasses back as he bit his lips to stop smiling.

He went back to his position, placing one arm over your belly, laying his head on top of it. To your regular watcher, it just looked like a man napping in his girlfriend’s lap, but that was far from the truth, judging by the speed his fingers were working on your clit the way he knew you liked.

You pulled his hair for him to go faster, as it was your designated code. He inserted his fingers in a back and forth motion, this being an obvious declaration of what was happening, you moaned a little and placed a hand in your mouth to control yourself.

You had to double-tap his shoulder again, as a small family passed through you. You both decided that they didn’t see anything, the couple wished a good afternoon and the two little kids were playing tag around a few trees. They were seated on a bench to watch their kids and you were facing their back.

“This is going to be hard” you said

“But not impossible” Taehyung’s confidence allowed you to feel at ease.

He inserted his fingers and went back to his back and forth movements, you decided to concentrate on not moaning. You wished you’d practiced as Taehyung had recommended.

His fingers were now curling inside you, and he picked up the challenge of placing his lips around your clit. Your horny instincts were about to fail you, so you went ahead and covered your mouth to whisper a “Fuck!” not knowing if Tae had listened to it

But he did, and the side to side motions of his tongue gained new pressure and speed, earning a hard hair pull to the nape of his head. You gripped on his soft hair and moved your hips up and down to accelerate the process. He helped you with it and just let his soft tongue out of his mouth, concentrating on the curling of his fingers.

You felt the build up on your stomach and you tried to grind harder against Taehyung’s tongue. Your feet were stretching, being on an almost perfect on pointe, your legs were about to give in and your toes were curling and your heart rate was fastening. With a final suck of his lips, your body finally gave him into relaxation.

But you had accidentally moan loud, making the couple turn their heads to look at the scream direction. In an effort to look normal, Taehyung had seated straight and looked a the opposite direction, trying his best not to laugh, and you stretched your whole body to make it seem that you were just sore.

You were, but they didn’t know the details.

They looked back, ignoring both of you and you heard Tae’s snort as he looked at you again. “We are so doing this again” he went in for a kiss and you could taste your cum still on his lips.

#bts smut #bts pwp #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts ambw #kpop ambw #taehyung ambw #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #black kpop stans #black kpop fans #black reader

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honestsycrets · 3 years

Text

A Distraction I: Poppy Seed | [ Hvitserk x Harem Girl!Reader, Oleg x Reader ]

❛ pairing | hvitserk x harem girl!reader, oleg the prophet x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | oleg wants to keep hvitserk's lips loose and mind distracted. he thinks women, drugs, and alcohol should do the trick.

❛ tags | dub-con because inebriated hvitserk, poppy seed effects aren't exactly realistic in causing premature ejaculation, trickery, nsfw, ivar is an ass in this one.

❛ sy’s notes | It feels like its been months since I’ve written Hvitserk. Ivar doesn’t like her; not completely sure why.

The sway of the wooden door woke you. Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized that Oleg the Prophet’s booming steps were headed in your way. The candles flickered in a low burn, rivaling the hearth that warmed your nude body.

“There she is. How are you? Are you sore?” Oleg asked, narrowing his eyes on you rather than the other two women there. The others had been sent away to a party he held for his faithful men last night. He held new things in his arms. A beautiful headdress dripping temple rings, a weighted necklace, and long graceful skirt. It hadn’t escaped you that he had no top in his arms that night. “I was rough with you girls tonight. I will make it up to you. I’ve brought you gifts.”

You rolled your swollen lips in, before popping them back out. “I’ve become accustomed to the abuse.”

“Good. You are a good girl; never questioning me. That is why I have a task for you. I want you to keep him distracted.”

“Who?”

Your question resulted in a small mincing smile. You took the gold from him: whoever he meant to impress must have been important. The headdress was elaborate, dripping down your long hair in the back. It matched a necklace that served as a top and a long flowing silken skirt that was should be nothing but a laugh.

“You’ll know him when you see him,” Oleg explained, clipping in thin cloth of a veil to mimic chastity. You settled your bracelets and arm rings in their place. He took two steps around you, thumping in his boots to seize your shoulders. “He is… comparatively unimportant. Even so, I need his lips loose and loyalty swayed. Make him feel good. I know you know how to do that.”

That’s what women are good for, he whispered in your ear, distractions. As if your life on the slave trade had taught you anything but. His hand shifted up from your shoulders to your neck, resting against the mark of a slave. His thumb presses on the mark, while the other hand came hard on your bruised ass. A cry rocked up your throat that you bit back down.

He smiled deeply, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

After four quick racing heartbeats, you nodded.

“Yes Prince Oleg.”

If it was the cripple, you weren’t sure you wanted to do this work. After all: you had seen her handmaidens shooing Ivar into a certain room with Oleg’s attention squarely on the harem girls. Katya and Ivar had sex in no low frequency. If it was him, you knew that you had nothing to offer Ivar that he did not already have.

Oleg said he was comparatively unimportant. It couldn’t be him. Ivar was important to Prince Igor. He was a witty warrior, a strategist, and a good man. You moistened your lips as you sat with poppy and long hair tumbling down your shoulders in wait. Whoever this man was: he would you hoped he was distractible. “Prince Hvitserk,” Oleg’s chest rattled into laughter. A prince? You shifted your kohl lined eyes toward the man and moistened lips painted a lascivious red. The man in question had hair that shone with blonde sheen and eyes bluer than you’ve seen amongst the harem girls of China, Persia. He’s beautiful. A Viking. You heard of them, seen them, but never this close. “Trade has given us many beautiful things. I would like to share them with you.”

Oleg’s eyes flicker over toward you. He was right. You knew it was him.

“Come! This is one of my concubines,” Oleg extended his hand out. You lifted up the end of your dress with smoked poppy in the other hand. You wish that he had chosen someone else: Liahua or Sareej: someone, anyone other than you. Hvitserk shifted his elbows off his thighs, pushing himself upright as you cut between his body and the table. You set the poppy seed down.

“She is pretty,” Hvitserk says curtly.

“Isn’t she? Feel her breasts. She’ll let you,” you sunk to your knees before him. A jingling alerted you to another woman joining the table. “Go ahead.”

“No I, I don’t--” Hvitserk stuttered, his head turning one way; then another; and eventually to where you were unlacing his trousers. Hvitserk’s hand froze when your mouth made contact with his semi-hard cock. You’ve seen the Vikings that came into Kiev and wondered how they differed from but never had this opportunity-- belonging to Oleg presented its own complications. “Hngh.”

Oleg reclined back to watch, catching Hvitserk in his panic. “Don’t tell me a Viking like you doesn’t enjoy women.”

“That’s not it. You’re--” watching.

“Relax. What is pleasure among brothers? Smell this.”

Poor Hvitserk, your tiny fist pulled his hardening cock. His hand set upon your head, stroking through your soft veil. He’s soft. “No-don’t--” it’s not you he’s talking to this time. You carry on your work. It’s not your fault he couldn’t say no but against yourself, you know it’s your fault for weakening his resolve.

“It’s poppy seed.”

His hand falters upon your head and falls away. Your lips pop off the rim of his dick, Hvitserk’s body swaying with an inarticulate complaint spilling off his lips. Oleg was staring at you with his eyebrows pushed together, a sardonic grin rupturing his features. His black eyes gleamed with excitement as he bore at Hvitserk’s throbbing pink cock. A bead of moisture formed at the head and as you stood tall, Oleg held a hand up to you.

“I’ve never seen you ride a Viking before.”

He couldn’t have conformed even if he wanted to. The scent of the drug was strong, causing Hvitserk’s shoulders to slacken hard. Your sister-concubine moved aside as you reached for a pot of warm oil, coating Hvitserk’s shaft with an obscene wet squish. You niggled your way out of the thin skirt and stepped over Hvitserk’s thighs, angling his head with your sodden hole. You sunk onto him, resisting the stretch that filled your body with pleasure that hinged on pain.

“Look at you,” Oleg prompted your attention. “So full.”

“Fuck,” Hvitserk made a noise you couldn’t understand, hazy and thick. You like to think it was pleasure as your hands settled over his shoulders for some anchorage. You couldn’t be sure, rolling your hips onto his lap to take him in and out of your body. Hair thwapping your low back, Oleg found himself laughing at the pleasure building in Hvitserk’s features. Hvitserk’s useless hands clawed for control at your hips: despite the fact that they were very, irrevocably out of control.

“He likes it,” Oleg clapped his hands together. He reclines back onto the bed and calls for another concubine. You want to ignore what is going on, forming a deathgrip on the russet cloth covering his shoulders and doing your work. Your hips fell upon Hvitserk in a constant rhythm, squeezing him for emphasis. Your body jingled with coin, a thin film of sweat coating your skin from your work taking the Viking. Distantly you heard Hvitserk grunt and felt the warmth spilling through your pussy.

“Did he come already? Inside of you?” Oleg threw his head back, seized in laughter that Hvitserk wasn’t there to hear. He was somewhere else; distracted by smokey haze and wonderful pleasure that at the least caused his hips to push up in pursuit of the last whisps of pleasure. You shrugged the scratchy veil back over your shoulder and stand, leaking his seed down your thighs. Oleg clicks his tongue, “He did! You see that Sareej? He can’t hold his seed.”

She ruptures into giggles. “I saw!”

“Take him away!”

You don’t have appropriate clothing. In Oleg’s words, it didn’t matter. Everyone knew you were a whore. You covered your breasts in a cloth that exposed your midriff and rushed to take Hvitserk to his rooms with the prayer that Ivar the Boneless would be busy with Katya as he so often happened to be. Your mind was alight as you set him in his bed with the blinding certainty that you shouldn’t be here. But if you went back to Oleg, you knew what was waiting for you and that might have been worse.

He wouldn’t remember, anyway.

He shouldn’t have taken that poppy.

He woke with memory of what had happened: the warm mouth wrapped around his cock and the light in Prince Oleg’s eyes. The excitement that sat behind his words of pleasure. How did he end up here? Perhaps it had been a guard that brought him back. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a distant home when he turned over and met the sudden reality that he wasn’t along anymore. By contrast, the warmth of your figure in his bed shook him into disquiet. Your eyes bore into him with intense expression. Hvitserk seized the knife under the blankets, drawing it to your neck in one smooth motion.

“Who are you?”

“Just a slave,” you spoke smoothly. “I brought you back from Oleg’s harem.”

“You’re that concubine from before,” Hvitserk retracted his blade and tucked it under his pillow. He smiles at you in a deprecating but knowledgeable smile. You want to speak up; tell him the truth. Except you did not care for the hard truth of telling him what you had really done in his haze. “Of course. I must have fainted. I was in the world of the gods with Idunn.”

“Idunn?”

“Our goddess of eternal youth. She was so beautiful with blonde hair like the rising sun. We had sex until the very dawn,” he set his hand to his bed sheets and propped himself up to sit on the side of the bed. He angles to look at you, flicking his tongue at his upper lip. “It was a good dream.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. A Viking like him? He didn’t need to know the whole truth of what occurred; how Oleg had used him for a show.

“What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to go back.” you spit out, finding the words dancing on the tip of your tongue. Hvitserk’s room was suddenly tiny and hot as if a great hearth waged within it. You couldn’t breathe, and yet your hands were clammy and wet. “Oleg is insatiable. He’ll want sex. He is… rough and I am sore.”

An awkward quietness followed. Not the dreamlike vision of Idunn and her apples but the harsh reality of a concubine’s life. Being one of Oleg’s concubines meant that you must do things. Things like what you were attempting right now. There’s a knock at the door before it pops open. You recognized that man who walked in with a stab of a creaking crutch.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed.” Your jewelry jingles as you moved toward the edge of the bed. Hvitserk stops you with a hand to your belly.

“No, no. Stay. There you must be tired. He is just my brother.”

Hvitserk turned toward the door, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother that came in. Ivar wrinkled his nose at the sight. It wasn’t often that you felt shame; but something in Ivar’s words settle low in your belly. “I see you’ve had your fun.”

Hvitserk looks toward you, fixing your veil and minding golden jewelry. “Oleg is treating me well.”

“I can tell,” Ivar stews on whatever harsh words he came here to spew. “Giving you whores to fuck frustrations into. It’s special treatment, Hvitserk.”

“Don’t talk about her. She is a slave,” he gestures. “She has no choice.”

You can’t handle it anymore. Not with the knowledge of what you’d done to Hvitserk under Oleg’s words or the judgement that Ivar carries: despite not knowing you at all. He had always been kind toward you. Never an awry word until today. Ivar holds onto his crutch, turning his sardonic eyes to focus upon you alone. “Then let’s talk about you.”

“Oleg must be missing me,” you gesture, setting your hand at your bare midriff and smiling at Hvitserk. He sets his fist down on the bed, pushing himself up with a word of complaint brewing on his tongue. “I told you--”

“I will see you again,” you told him. Despite his hateful words, Ivar bows at his waist in some mockery of respect. “Oleg’s whore.”

You rush out. Ivar doesn’t like you; you don’t blame him. If he knew what you’d done, you shudder to think of what his knives would have done at your throat. You don’t wait around to find out why.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @naaladareia

#hvitserk x reader #hvitserk/reader #vikings x reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings/reader #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #Hvitserk Lothbrok x Reader

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

be mine

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

raleigh and cadence end up on a couple’s trip together as the fifth and sixth wheels to their friends, four months after they’ve broken up.

shoutout to jade for letting me borrow her rcd mc florencia/platinum mc dom and shoutout to pj for letting me borrow her platinum mc ascendance ! the gang’s all here this valentine’s day 💕

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @dakotawinchester ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @grigori-girl

~9k words | E (18+)

avery was uncharacteristically squirrelly when she pressed him about who else was coming on the trip with them, evading her questions as best as he could while he herded her onto the plane.

“i don’t want to be a third wheel to you and ascendance,” cadence insisted for what was surely the sixth or seventh time since he’d first invited her along, “or a fifth wheel once seth and florencia show up, either.”

“would you relax?” avery said, waving the flight attendant over and practically shoving a drink into her hand as they settled into their seats across from each other, “seth and florencia are bringing someone with them, too. it’s going to be fine.”

“it’s not going to be fine if whoever they bring is a weirdo,” she pointed out, but sipped obligingly from her champagne all the same, sighing dramatically when the doors closed and the plane started to roll down the tarmac. “then the four of you will be off doing valentine’s day things together and i’ll be stuck entertaining some creep.”

“they wouldn’t just bring some creep,” avery assured her, rolling his eyes. “and even if they did, at least you’ll be entertaining them in palm springs, yeah? i don’t think i could’ve lasted another day below zero.”

that was true. new york had been freezing, lately, with a particularly unrelenting winter that seemed unlikely to melt into spring anytime soon, groundhog predictions be damned. as the plane took off into the air, her toes had yet to thaw out where they were like ice in her sneakers.

avery’s girlfriend’s vacation house in palm springs was going to be a welcome respite from the place she was desperate to get away from, even if she was going to have to spend her first valentine’s day alone there -- or, worse, with some strange guy or girl she wasn’t ready to entertain.

it had been four months since her breakup with raleigh, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to date again. she had. each of her friends had begged to be given the chance to set her up until she finally relented and subsequently regretted ever leaving her apartment -- every single miserable dinner date she went on felt like trying to walk around in the wrong size shoes, pinchy and unfamiliar and strange.

each of the people she’d dated were perfectly nice in their own way, but they weren’t raleigh. they never could be.

the realization had admittedly left her feeling a little glum. she’d expected to be over him, by now, or at the very least, to not still be so torn up about their breakup, especially when she was the one who’d forced his hand.

man up and make a commitment, or let me go. the words felt bitter as she recalled them, and she sighed when avery kicked her underneath the table between them, eyebrows drawing together.

“oi, none of that this weekend. this trip is going to be fun.”

“i know,” cadence said, her eyes on the window beside her. as fun as it could be, she supposed. “and i really appreciate you trying to take my mind off things, but...”

avery’s eyes softened. “yeah,” he allowed, “i get it. but i really do want you to try to have a good time. a break from new york will be good for you.”

“i hope so.” though she doubted it. if she couldn’t get raleigh out of her mind when she was home, a trip across the country was unlikely to make a difference.

the drive to ascendance’s from the airport was short, and after only a few minutes cadence had the pleasure of watching the two of them embrace like it’d been years since they last saw each other, kissing enthusiastically while she lingered in the foyer with her suitcase.

ascendance grinned widely at her when they broke apart, laughing a little as avery kept her wrapped in his arms, lifted up off the floor with her bare feet dangling. “hey! it’s so good to see you again. you can take any room you want, okay?”

the wet sound of kissing didn’t disappear even after she rushed upstairs, dragging her suitcase down the long hallway until she could find the bedroom farthest away from the noise.

she shut the door behind her on an airy, sun-drenched guest bedroom draped in billowy linens, the open window looking down at the pool and sprawling backyard. palm trees decorated the property, and the sight of the view alone was enough to calm her down just a little, so that her stomach wasn’t clenched into tight knots for the first time in weeks when she kicked off her shoes and sank into the bed.

her hands scrubbed across her face, rubbing at her eyes. she was makeup-free from the flight and knew she’d need to get ready before whatever chaos she was inevitably going to be dragged into tonight, when seth and florencia and their mystery guest would get in, but just then, she was far too exhausted to move.

figuring that a nap wouldn’t hurt, she slipped under the blankets in the sweats she’d worn on the plane and immediately fell fast asleep.

the sun was setting when she woke up, a commotion downstairs alerting her to the fact that seth and florencia had gotten in early; she heard a champagne cork pop and cheers echo out just as she slid to the edge of the mattress and stretched, arching her back and righting her clothes where they’d pulled out of place in her sleep.

running a hand through her messy hair, she walked out into the hallway without thinking twice about it, figuring she’d find out the plan for the evening before she started getting ready.

cadence regretted the thought as soon as she paused at the top of the stairs. “hey, sleeping beauty!” seth crowed, throwing his hands up in the air, but she couldn’t bring herself to greet him when her eyes were focused on the mop of brown hair standing just behind him, a head taller and a commanding presence she’d recognize in any room, in any city, in any place.

the person seth and florencia had brought with them was raleigh.

he smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing at the back of his neck before lifting his hand in an awkward wave. “hey.”

“hey,” she said slowly, resuming her walk down the stairs as if on autopilot, even though every nerve-ending in her body was screaming at her to turn back around and go to her room and put on something hotter, damnit. if she’d known she was going to be seeing raleigh today she would have taken the entire six hour flight in valentino haute couture and sat ramrod straight not to wrinkle it.

but she didn’t, and so there she was, makeup free in sweats, dreaming of all the long, drawn-out and painful ways she was going to murder both avery and seth for blindsiding her.

“i’m gonna go pour drinks,” seth said decisively, and cadence only barely caught the look florencia shot her before they both turned away to tend to the champagne bottle in her hands, leaving her alone in the foyer with raleigh.

it had been a few months since she saw him last. they ran into each other only once after she picked up all her things from his apartment, the shoes and makeup and guitar picks and jewelry she’d left strewn all over the place because there was no rules at raleigh’s and she’d gotten too comfortable with that. she’d spotted him from across the room at a party she didn’t want to be at and ducked out the back door before he could see her, too, walking home thirty blocks in the cold, hiccuping sobs that blew clouds of her breath into the air.

he looked more or less the same as he had in november. raleigh’s hair was still pretentiously, purposefully disheveled, his clothes the rich form of messy, distressed and slouchy that looked effortlessly fashionable, with that gaudy rolex on his wrist and hints of his tattoos peeking out at the edge of his collar.

the expression on his face gave nothing away when he said, “i didn’t know you’d be here.”

“we don’t have to talk,” she answered, because they didn’t, and she pursed her lips and looked away just as avery and ascendance entered the house from the patio door, their clasped hands swinging between their bodies.

“oh... my god?” avery said, recovering quickly from the shock on his face, his eyebrows arching to his hairline. ascendance looked to be hiding a nervous laugh behind her hand. “raleigh, good to see you. this is... a surprise.”

“it sure is,” cadence agreed with a wide, fake smile, rage pulsing in her temples. fine -- maybe she’d only have to kill seth.

as if on cue, seth reentered the foyer with the bottle of champagne still in his hands. “oooookay, here’s the -- oh, hey avery -- ascendance, thanks for having us.” florencia passed out glasses while seth leaned in for welcome hugs, and cadence stood there numbly as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

she and raleigh were the other couple, the people who’d be paired up all weekend while the rest of their friends enjoyed the time away. she was going to be stuck with the guy who’d dumped her, on valentine’s day, and there was nothing she could do about it.

when seth stopped beside her, she made a show of wrapping him up into a bear hug, squeezing him as close and as tightly as she could. “you’re dead to me,” cadence murmured calmly into his ear, smiling innocently again when he pulled away nervously and taking one of the waiting glasses of champagne from florencia’s outstretched hand.

she stared at it for a second, unseeing, before lifting the glass to her lips and draining it in one go, knocking back the champagne while silently lamenting the fact that it wasn’t something stronger. but there was probably no amount of alcohol in the world that was going to make this weekend feel bearable.

“i’m gonna go get ready,” she announced to no one, dashing back up the stairs as quickly as she dared.

ascendance found her a few minutes later in full meltdown mode, flicking frantically through the outfits she brought for something to wear to dinner.

“obviously i had no idea they’d be bringing him,” she said, sitting on cadence’s bed and rolling her eyes, “and i hope they didn’t know avery was bringing you, or, like, what the fuck is wrong with them?”

“please don’t even get me started,” cadence sighed, “or i really think i might kill someone tonight. which dress do you think is hotter?”

she gestured frantically at the two pieces she’d laid out over the top of her entire dumped-out suitcase, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars. getting ready was going to be impossible. if she wore something too sexy it was going to look like she was trying to get back at raleigh and if she dressed too casually it was going to look like she was trying too hard to seem unaffected. the whole situation was fucked.

“i think i have something you can wear,” ascendance said slowly, “if you have the right shoes. but are you sure you want to --”

“i can’t go home,” she cut in, groaning. “that’s worse than staying. no offense -- i want to stay, i just don’t want --”

“i know,” ascendance said sympathetically, “i get it. why don’t you start on your makeup while i pull this dress out?”

“okay,” cadence sighed miserably, and then she was alone again, staring at the mess of clothes before her.

she let herself have exactly ten seconds of wallowing and dramatically lamenting why me before she squared her shoulders and sprung into action, digging her makeup bag out of the chaos covering the bed.

okay. step one -- all she had to do was get ready. you’ve done this a thousand times before. just get ready, and go downstairs. no tears.

her hands shook as she sat down in front of the vanity.

fuck this. she wished dom was with her -- she would know what to do. at the very least, she’d have a xanax to offer.

you will not believe where i am, cadence texted her, stomach squirming. part of her would’ve given anything, just then, to be where dom was, with shane, working on whatever film they were making in whatever remote location he’d dragged her to, if only so she wouldn’t have to face the disaster waiting for her downstairs.

strip club? dom answered almost immediately, her words enough to make cadence crack a genuine smile. she felt a little calmer as she quickly filled her friend in on the situation.

fuck him, was dom’s advice, when she was done. ruin his life!!!! is that even a question? squeeze your tits up to your neck if you have to

thanks for the encouragement! cadence wrote back, setting her phone aside when only a sarcastic string of nonsensical emojis came back in response.

she did feel fortified, then, to make it to dinner, and got her makeup on in almost record time, a genuine smile fixed on her face when ascendance helped her get dressed and zipped her into the outfit she’d set aside, a stunning red minidress that was equal parts short and tight, a gentle ruffle at the hem flaring out under her ass.

they were late to dinner, but it was only in the backyard; ascendance had planned for a private chef to come to the house and cook for them so they wouldn’t have to worry about cameras following them around, and in hindsight, cadence could have kissed her for her forward thinking.

the setup was still elaborate when they made their way outside. ascendance had gone all out in planning the evening -- the table was set with candles and flowers down the length of it, the lawn lit with string lights and music playing somewhere, softly in the distance.

thankfully everyone was already at their seats when they made their way across the grass. avery pulled out the chair across from him for ascendance, and cadence took the seat at the head of the table, opposite raleigh, who was all the way down the other end and looking right at her, a crooked smile on his face and an eyebrow arched at her outfit.

she pointedly ignored him as she dropped down into her seat and picked up the bread roll waiting on her plate, squeezing ascendance’s knee gratefully under the table when she silently passed her roll over, too.

conversation was slow to start, but ascendance kept the food and drinks coming and when cadence was halfway through her third tequila soda she felt markedly less murdery, at least enough to actually talk to seth again, who was still eyeing her warily when she asked, “so, how’s the movie coming?”

“it’s good,” he answered modestly, “they tore down our sets, like, the day filming wrapped, so we did some of the reshoots on location in cordonia. that was cool.”

“they took us on a tour of the palace,” florencia added, though cadence couldn’t look at her without catching raleigh in her peripheral vision, so she kept her eyes on seth, even when he grinned widely at her between bites of the appetizer, a sure sign that there was trouble to come.

“ryan actually asked me about you,” he said casually, “a lot.”

her eyebrows pulled together in surprise. “ryan summers? i think the last time i saw him was when the odyssey dropped.”

“well -- i guess he knows we’re close,” seth shrugged, and, fuck it. she risked a glance at florencia and found her picking her way through the salad; out of the corner of her eye, cadence was pretty sure raleigh had tuned into their conversation, too. “he said he heard you were single.”

warmth flooded her face. she lifted her drink and took another measured sip of it. “did you give him my number?”

now it was seth’s turn to look surprised. “do you want me to?”

“yeah,” she said without thinking, turning her eyes back to her plate immediately. “florencia, how’s pilot season going?”

the tequila sodas went down easily after that. eventually, when the meal finished and she stood from her chair, cadence realized she was too drunk to be upright, wobbling precariously on the lawn in her heels. her head swam as she did her best to hold still, though judging by the look ascendance was giving her, she wasn’t quite managing it.

“you guys wanna head to a bar?” avery asked, and she looked up just in time to catch raleigh’s eye across the circle, knowing they were having the exact same thought at the exact same time.

her team was going to kill her if she was photographed with raleigh. more than that, the internet would destroy her, and she would absolutely deserve it. she shook her head.

“we’ll hang back,” raleigh said, either not noticing the glances the others were exchanging behind his back or tactfully ignoring them, “you guys go.”

then they were alone.

“i don’t want to talk to you,” cadence said bluntly, as soon as the others had gone, the half-bottle of tequila she’d drank obliterating her filter completely.

“that’s fair,” raleigh allowed, looking around the backyard -- which was slowly spinning in her field of vision -- before asking, “can i help you upstairs?”

“you can fuck off.” she spun on her heel to storm away and promptly tumbled down onto the ground, face planting into the grass. fuck.

in an instant, raleigh was down on his knees beside her, one large hand wrapped gently around her arm to pull her upright. “hey, are you okay? jesus, that looked bad.”

“i’m fine,” cadence groaned, yanking her arm out of his grip, “and i don’t need your help, and even if i did, you wouldn’t be helping me anyway. all you care about is yourself.”

it took her a minute, but she made her way back to her feet, kicking her heels off for better balance. silently, raleigh picked them up for her, giving her a long look before muttering, “come on, let’s get you inside.”

they trudged back to the house in silence, side-by-side, cadence’s steps slow and awkward with the world fuzzy around her. raleigh hovered as close to her personal space as he dared their entire way up the stairs, all the way down the hallway until they were both alone in her room.

everything she owned was still strewn across the bed. she groaned when she saw the pile of clothes obstructing the mattress, then threw herself down in the vanity chair and poked around for her makeup wipes instead.

raleigh lingered in the doorway, watching her. “are you gonna be okay?”

she scoffed, yanking the package of makeup wipes open and pulling one out forcefully. “like you give a shit.”

“would you stop it? you have every right to be pissed at me but i’m trying to help, here. are you going to be sick?”

“sick of you,” she said, scrubbing the eyeliner off her eyes in a way her glam team definitely would not approve of, with how she was tugging at her face.

but they weren’t here. raleigh was. and she needed him to go, before she said something stupid.

when she dropped the makeup wipe into the trash at her feet, cadence found raleigh’s arms folded across his chest where he was still leaning in the open door frame. he was staring at her through slightly narrowed eyes, looking either annoyed or pensive -- it was hard to read him, now, considering the drinks she’d had and how long it’d been since they were last alone together.

maybe she’d never be able to read raleigh’s expression ever again.

raleigh dragged a hand across his mouth, rubbing at his jaw before shrugging helplessly and saying, “i do actually want us to be friends, eventually.”

“don’t count on it,” cadence scoffed, turning back to the vanity mirror for a fresh makeup wipe and the eyeliner on her other eye.

there was silence for a long moment before he asked, “is that really how you feel?” raleigh’s voice was quieter, this time. he was less sure of himself, maybe.

or maybe she was projecting, leaning into her own wishful thinking.

either way, she faltered, pursing her lips as she stared at her streaky, half-made up face in the mirror before her.

no. it wasn’t what she wanted. but evidently she wasn’t able to have what she wanted, so a clean break should have been the next best thing, right? space to get over raleigh in peace, no matter how long that took.

when she didn’t say anything, he softly continued, “it’s just that... i miss talking to you, you know? other people don’t always get it.”

irritation flashed within her, sudden and sharp. that was so like raleigh, to want all of the emotional benefits of her companionship without any of the responsibilities that came with them. “i can’t be your friend right now,” she snapped, shutting her eyes briefly when the way her head turned too quickly made the room start to spin again. “maybe ever, okay?”

there was quiet for so long that she forced her eyes open to check and see whether or not raleigh had left, peeking one eye open slowly, just a crack. cadence sighed when she saw he was still standing in the doorway, staring at her with that dark, inscrutable gaze.

raleigh cleared his throat before he said, “i’ve been trying to give you space. obviously i knew you wouldn’t want to talk again right away, but in a few months, i thought...”

how embarrassing. she turned away in shame, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

she wondered how long it’d taken him, to get over their relationship. had he felt they could have been friends again, like nothing ever happened, in one month? three weeks? a few days?

“well, you thought wrong. so please just leave me alone this weekend.” cadence kept her eyes trained on the wall by the closet on the other side of the room, refusing to turn back around. she could feel the tequila starting to work its way back up in her stomach.

“okay,” raleigh said finally, and she heard his hand tap on the doorframe with finality. “night, cadence.”

only when she heard the soft sound of his footsteps on the carpet fade away into nothing did she get up, gently shutting the door to her room and slumping back against it to thump her head against the wood quietly once she was alone.

fuck.

that certainly hadn’t gone as planned.

in the morning, she woke up with a pounding headache, someone heavy sitting on her legs on the bed. the smell of coffee forced her eyes open, and cadence sat up slowly until her blurry vision focused on seth, who grinned at her again before passing her a mug that was warm to the touch in her hands when she reached out for it.

“morning,” he said, looking far too obnoxious and smug for someone who’d been out later than she had the night before. “i thought you might want to know that raleigh asked if i was really going to give your number to ryan at breakfast just now.”

“i’m going to throw up on you,” cadence mumbled, but stared into the coffee in her hands instead, lifting it to her lips for a careful sip that immediately burned her mouth. “wait -- what?”

“any idea why he’d ask me that?” seth smirked, shifting away deftly when she lifted her leg underneath the covers and kicked out at him.

“because he’s a bad person and you’re an even worse one?” she suggested, slumping back down to the mattress with a huff when seth rolled to the other edge of the bed, out of reach. “i hope you don’t think i’m ever going to forgive you for bringing him here.”

seth cringed. “florencia said i’m lucky to be alive.” he shifted closer tentatively when she laughed. “i really didn’t know you’d be here, though. i thought you were going upstate to write.”

“i went last month,” she sighed, “it was miserable. even colder than the city and more depressing than my apartment.” the air b&b had been too empty and too quiet, just like her place back home.

“well, we didn’t all conspire to pull a parent trap on you, i promise,” seth said, and she rolled her eyes at him before disappearing back into her coffee, hoping the caffeine would mitigate the hangover that was starting to feel miserable. “but i also didn’t think you were going to get drunk and start a huge fight or whatever.”

“is that what he said?” she asked, glancing at the closed door of her bedroom before looking back at seth curiously, “that we had a huge fight?” she had been drunk, but the argument she’d had with raleigh had felt tame in comparison to some of the blowouts they’d gotten into when they were together, including the final explosive screaming match that’d broken them up in the fall.

“kinda,” seth shrugged, “but you know how he is. always downplaying everything.”

“yeah.” her nails tapped against the ceramic mug as she strained to listen to whatever was going on downstairs, but if there were still people in the kitchen, she couldn’t hear them, anymore. “are you going to give my number to ryan?”

“i already did,” seth answered with a dismissive flick of his hand, sending a wave of relief through her. there was something comforting in knowing that the decision was out of her hands, and that she wouldn’t have to admit, out loud, that she was reconsidering the offer after talking to raleigh last night. “but that so isn’t the point.”

“please don’t start,” cadence practically begged, “i literally don’t have it in me to think about this today.” or ever, she silently added. the what-ifs of her and raleigh’s relationship would prove to be enough to consume her, if she let them. she’d spent too many hours, over the last few months, thinking about them -- wondering how he felt, questioning whether or not he was thinking about her, torturing herself guessing where he was or who he was with. life had finally been able to start to distract her with other things again: work, friends, social events. she couldn’t afford to take a step backwards.

any question or comment he’d made was probably done in passing. he didn’t care who anyone gave her number to.

“but --” seth tried, cutting off with a sigh when she shook her head at him, eyes wide and pleading. “fine. well... there’s more coffee in the kitchen, okay? come out to the pool when you feel like it.”

she stared off into space as she finished what was left in the mug seth had brought her, rubbing her calves together under the sheets to try and determine whether or not she needed to shave her legs again. it’ll give you some time to stall, said a voice in her head helpfully, and she headed to the shower without thinking twice about it, eager to explore ascendance’s stock of beauty products.

everyone was out by the pool when she finally emerged with her sunglasses and bikini on. the boys were splashing in the water, and cadence kept her eyes lowered as she spread out in one of the empty lounge chairs next to ascendance.

“so,” ascendance murmured, as soon as she got comfortable, “i heard last night was a disaster.”

cadence rolled her eyes again. “good to know raleigh is still the nosey little gossip he always was.”

“if you seriously thought he wasn’t going to tell everyone you hardcore unloaded on him last night, you’re delusional,” ascendance pointed out fairly, making her pout where she was sitting next to her friend.

fine. “i just didn’t think it was news every time we got into an argument,” she muttered, tilting her head back against the lounge chair, squinting into the sun.

“it’s always news, with you two.”

with a sigh, cadence looked away, squeezing her eyes shut against the spots that were suddenly appearing like fireworks. evidently all sense of self preservation had completely abandoned her this weekend, both where raleigh was concerned and otherwise. “you’re not really going to make me ask about it, are you?”

she turned her head and found ascendance grinning at her. “would i do that to you?” she asked, rolling over onto her side and inching her chair closer. her voice dropped to a near whisper, and when she dipped her head so her eyes were visible over the tops of her own sunglasses cadence could see how eager she was to fill her in on the news. “the man is a mess,” ascendance said bluntly, looking almost excited about it.

despite her best efforts not to care, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling hopeful and a little relieved, just to hear that. “really?”

“yeah. i don’t think he ever thought you’d be so upset with him, and for so long. it’s kind of embarrassing, honestly. like -- for his soul.”

“well -- what did he think, that i was just going to be, like, okay, see you? when he picked up all his shit from my apartment while i was on a shoot and told entertainment tonight we had mutual differences. what the fuck was he thinking?”

“beats me,” ascendance scoffed, slowly shaking her head. “i told him he was out of his mind many times. you know how he is. asking all of us for advice on how to talk to you when you made it clear you wanted him to leave you alone.”

“it’s just like -- what could he even possibly have to say to me, you know? after all this time. he had plenty of chances to text me, or something.”

“i don’t think he even knows,” ascendance said. “it just kills him to think anyone’s mad at him. we’re all like that, in a way.”

“i hate that you’re right,” she sighed, gaze drifting out at the sprawling view in the backyard. “he doesn’t care that it’s me. he’s just too much of a narcissist to have someone dislike him.”

“hang on, i didn’t say that,” ascendance mused, pursing her lips. “he definitely cares more because it’s you. try talking to him for ten minutes, you’ll see.”

“i honestly don’t think i can stomach looking at him for ten minutes. it’s like --”

“oi! ace, cadence -- get in here, yeah?”

they turned in unison to find avery grinning, splashing water and waving them into the pool. florencia and seth were sitting on the stairs, and her eyes scanned the rest of the space to slowly come to land on raleigh, treading water behind avery, already staring at her.

“come on,” ascendance smiled, reaching for her wrist and tugging cadence out of her chair before she could protest, yanking her forward towards the edge of the pool.

with a splash, they both jumped in, and cadence was left hovering by the wall as ascendance immediately swam over to avery and jumped into his arms, the two of them spinning away into the deep end with loud laughter.

raleigh lifted his hand to wave awkwardly at her. with a sigh, she swam over, sparing only a brief glance at seth and florencia, who were still parked on the stairs with absolutely no intention of moving and saving her anytime soon.

“you sleep alright?” raleigh asked, as soon as she was close enough to hear him. the expression on his face was sincere, his eyes resting respectfully on her face.

cadence fidgeted as she tried not to stare in return, though the broad planes of raleigh’s chest had always been a distraction -- worse when they were bisected with gold chains and dripping with water, gleaming under the sun. “yeah, i guess. sorry i got drunk and screamed at you or whatever.”

raleigh tipped his head back with a loud laugh, one large palm resting against an equally large pectoral muscle. with his eyes crinkled together under the sun, she gave in and let herself stare at his fingers, glaring bitterly at the tattoos that swirled up his forearm. asshole.

“i think i actually really deserved it, so it’s fine.” when their eyes met again he seemed uncharacteristically uncertain, his trademark shield of confidence momentarily lowered. “i feel like an idiot for not realizing that’s how you must’ve felt sooner.”

cadence shook her head. “that’s not your problem.” having an ex-boyfriend was new to her, let alone one she had to work in the same industry with and live a few neighborhoods away from, the tinny call of the subway conductor’s voice announcing the stops still making her cringe down into her takeaway coffee, even months later -- but she was pretty sure none of this was par for the course. in her (admittedly limited, defined mostly by movies) experience, ex-boyfriends didn’t concern themselves with the aftermath, and raleigh shouldn’t have been any exception.

“i know that.” something unidentifiable flashed in his eyes, and when he winced, she realized it was akin to... pain. uncomfortableness, at the very least. “but, still. i hate thinking that you felt that way... about me. or because of me, even. it’s just shitty.”

“you don’t have to feel guilty,” cadence said, that same prickly annoyance rising up in her again, too suddenly to contend with before the rude words reached her lips. “i know you think highly of yourself, but i’ve had worse things happen to me than being broken up with before.”

raleigh sighed heavily, shaking his head. “i’m fucking this up again. that’s not what i meant. i’m trying to apologize.”

her face contorted with confusion. “you are?”

“yeah, but -- this isn’t going like how i thought it would.” he shrugged, dragging a wet hand across the stubble on his face. he must’ve forgotten to bring a razor with him; it was growing out thicker than it usually did, even and dark across raleigh’s jaw. “i am sorry, though. for what it’s worth, i... really do miss you. and i know that you want me to fuck off and leave you alone and i’m being selfish by not doing that, but -- i just hate not talking to you. and i’m sorry.”

she was quiet for a moment, stunned into silence by his honesty. before she’d even fully had time to process what he’d said, cadence found herself saying, “you don’t have to fuck off entirely.”

raleigh blinked. “no?” he questioned, sounding unsure.

cadence shook her head. there were a million things she could’ve said -- that she’d missed him, too, that she hadn’t ever wanted to break up in the first place, that all she’d ever wanted from him was the promise of a future together -- but they all felt too revealing, making her feel as small as she had when she’d seen his first tabloid cover without her hit the newsstands at the corner store beneath her apartment building. yet again, it was like he was winning their breakup and she was acutely aware of the fact that she was not, and that she’d never be able to, because raleigh was raleigh and she was in love with him.

so she said nothing, and after a beat, he smiled hesitantly at her, eyes searching her face for some sign that she was going to snap at him again.

but she didn’t, and just as she smiled back at him a splash down at the other end of the pool startled them apart, stealing their attention away, and then they were both melding back into the group seamlessly, as though absolutely nothing had transpired between them.

that didn’t stop her from obsessing over it, though, analyzing every aspect of their interaction for the rest of the afternoon while she lounged by the pool, scrolled idly through her phone and made small talk with her friends. despite knowing that raleigh was only trying to bury the hatchet between them in order to appease his own narcissism, the small flicker of hope that had been inside her since their breakup, wondering if maybe he regretted what had happened between them, had been stoked back into a roaring fire.

as the sun started to set, she shivered, tugging at the ends of her damp hair. “i’m gonna go shower. what time’s dinner again?”

ascendance waved her off lazily. “whenever. you know these fools are going to start a fire and pull out a guitar as soon as it gets dark. just come back down when you’re done.”

she shouldered her bag and was surprised to find raleigh fall into step beside her, just outside the sliding back door of the house. “hey,” he said, shirtless still and warm from the sun, smiling brightly, “you going up?”

“yeah,” she answered, trying not to stare at him, “need a break?”

“i’m exhausted,” raleigh said, as they walked up the stairs shoulder-to-shoulder, “i think i got too much sun.”

“i know, i’m going to be washing my hair for, like, a year.” her hands pulled at the split ends, hanging in wet waves around her face. “feels like i soaked up all the chlorine and took it with me.”

silence fell as they walked down the hallway together, and cadence snuck a glance over at raleigh as soon as she realized he wasn’t stopping in front of any of the other guest room doors. they both slowed outside the last one, at the end of the row -- hers.

“listen,” raleigh said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “i was thinking about it, and i feel like i didn’t explain myself well earlier.”

great. he’d probably seen the way she was overthinking written all over her face and realized she was holding out hope for something he had no interest in giving her. cringing, she opened her mouth to insist that she was fine when he continued, “i don’t just miss you as a friend, cadence.”

her mouth snapped shut. out of the thousands of possibilities she’d been turning over in her mind, that sentence was one that had genuinely never occurred to her. “what?”

“i felt like -- what i said, i felt like it came across, like, that i just miss being around you and talking to you like we used to... which is true, don’t get me wrong. but i didn’t mean any of it platonically. and i know that’s wrong, but...” raleigh shrugged, grinning ruefully at her. “i guess i don’t care.”

she gaped at him. after a moment, raleigh’s grin faltered. “can you say something? anything is fine.”

“sorry, i’m just, um.” cadence shook her head. what the fuck? “i’m processing.”

“look, you don’t owe me anything,” raleigh rushed to say, “i know that, and -- last night, i know you said you don’t even want to be friends, let alone anything else, so the fact that you told me i don’t have to fuck off should be enough and is way more than i deserve --”

before she could think too much about it, cadence pushed up onto her toes and kissed him, backing raleigh in against the other side of the hallway. for a split second, he stayed frozen against her; then, just as she started to panic again, he kissed her back, mouth moving urgently over hers.

raleigh’s arms wrapped around her and she carefully tip-toed forward, swaying in against his bare chest and pushing her fingers into his hair to drag his head down closer, giving herself over eagerly to the kiss. raleigh answered as if he was drowning, holding onto her so tightly her knees buckled.

the door behind him opened abruptly as they both pushed against it, and they stumbled forward into a linen closet, breaking apart clumsily as towels and washcloths rained down over their heads.

“fuck,” raleigh muttered, breathing heavily. she watched his bare chest rise and fall as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through his hair. “shit, i’m sorry.”

“don’t,” cadence interjected, similarly working to catch her breath. “i kissed you.”

“yeah, but i -- fuck, i want to be able to give you your space. i know you want that.” he seemed torn by the very idea of it.

she shook her head. “i don’t,” she rushed to explain breathlessly, “i just -- i said all that stuff because i was mad at you, and i thought... i didn’t think you wanted...”

her voice wavered and then trailed off helplessly. with her eyes, she offered raleigh the most pleading look she had, begging him to take pity on her and be the one to drive the conversation, so that she wouldn’t have to feel so achingly vulnerable, like she’d just ripped her chest wide open and laid herself bare for him to examine.

raleigh sighed. “cadence... of course i want you. i always have, ever since you threw that stupid pizza party at one in a million. but i felt like i lost the right to... to even think about this.”

cadence drew in a breath, finding it impossible to tear her eyes away from raleigh’s. he looked heartbreakingly sincere, among ascendance’s racks of askew towels, and no matter how much being with him was going to eventually, inevitably destroy her, she knew she would never, ever forgive herself for turning around now.

“you didn’t.” she watched as raleigh exhaled, relief transforming his face. “i’ve thought about it -- so much -- and i’ve wondered if you ever thought about it, too, and -- i hoped that you did? but when i didn’t hear from you, i had to assume... i mean, i thought you just moved on.”

“no,” raleigh insisted, “jesus, cadence, i could never ‘just move on.’ do you have any idea --”

she kissed him again before he could continue, and raleigh stepped forward to meet her halfway, blindly walking them both out of the closet and back across the hall to her bedroom, fumbling for the doorknob behind her back without dislodging his lips from where they were doing their very best to pull every last breath from her lungs.

he kicked the door shut when they stumbled inside together, and they fell onto her unmade bed in a tangle of damp bathing suits and sunkissed limbs, the messy sheets twisting into further disarray as they rolled around amongst the pillows.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” raleigh bit out, crawling on top of her to press her down into the mattress, the combination of his lips on her neck and his hands on her hips wiping each and every last thought from her mind. “god, cadence.”

“raleigh,” she moaned in return, sliding her hands down the bare expanse of his back, her fingertips digging into the muscles she’d sorely missed touching, “please, i want...”

his hips bucked forward, and her voice trailed off into a gasp as he pressed against her, her legs widening to give him more room to settle in. raleigh took advantage of the space immediately, and his hips circled forward slowly in a dirty grind that made her head spin, her eyelashes fluttering as her head tipped back against the pillows.

“is this what you want?” raleigh demanded, his voice low. “can you feel how much i want you?”

“yes,” cadence breathed, palms pressing against his back, urging him forward against her, “yes, raleigh, please --”

his hands made quick work of her bikini, untying the strings at the sides of her bottoms, letting the fabric fall away beneath them as his hips thrust forward again. her back arched up off the mattress, and as soon as there was space for his hands, raleigh slipped them between her ass and the mattress, squeezing.

“you look so fucking pretty,” he sighed, sounding almost personally offended as soon as his thigh slipped between her legs and she pushed her hips up, chasing any source of friction, “jesus, cadence.”

cadence reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his face down for another desperate kiss. she didn’t exactly feel pretty, makeup-free and wet from the pool, flushed and panting and begging for her ex-boyfriend’s affection, but the way raleigh was looking at her made her feel like a perfect ten, as stunning as she’d ever thought she was, more glamorous than she’d be for a red carpet event.

it was exactly the same as the way he’d used to look at her, a mix of warm adoration and awe in his eyes, his pride bumping up her own self confidence until she thought she could do absolutely anything.

her forehead pressed against his as they broke apart, sharing the same ragged breaths. “i want you to fuck me,” cadence murmured, just so that she could hear the pained, punched-out groan of raleigh’s that followed the words, her gaze unfocused on where raleigh’s eyes suddenly screwed shut tightly from up close.

“anything,” raleigh promised, lifting his hips so her hands could slide his shorts off, “god, come here.”

she slipped forward down the bed, into raleigh’s waiting arms, and he pulled her in close enough that her body acted on muscle memory, opening up for him to slot into place against her in that same familiar way they’d come together so many times before.

it was as easy as breathing -- as simple and as complicated as everything with raleigh always felt.

raleigh’s hands planted on the mattress to give him more leverage, and he shoved his hips forward forcefully, pushing her up the bed. “fuck,” he groaned emphatically, making it impossible for her head to be anywhere else but right there, with him, “you feel so fucking good.”

she knew exactly what he meant. her romantic conquests over the last four months had been few and far between, and raleigh was scratching an itch that had been impossible to manage on her own or with anyone else -- even if she’d wanted to be with someone else, there was no one who knew him quite like he did, who knew exactly what she needed and never failed to give her everything and more.

each quick thrust nudged the headboard against the wall behind her, the sharp tilt of his hips making her tense until her whole body was shaking with how good it felt. cadence turned her face away as raleigh got the angle just right, throwing her forearm over her eyes to hide the open expression of pleasure on her face, muffling her moans into the sheets under her cheek.

“oh, don’t you dare,” he breathed, reaching for her arm and pulling it away, pinning her wrist down to the bed. her head rolled back as his hips bucked viciously, compelled by the low intensity in his voice. “look at me.”

her whole body felt hot and anxious, but her eyes blinked open obligingly and locked onto his, pinned in place by the wild look in raleigh’s gaze.

“raleigh.” his name was a moan that felt too loud in the room, her breath hitching halfway through. a full-body shiver tripped down her spine.

above her head, his palm slid the last inch up her wrist to lace their fingers together, squeezing her hand in his.

“did you miss this?” he asked suddenly, walking his free hand up the inside of her thigh in a maddeningly slow tip-toe. his question was punctuated by a thrust that shoved the bed into the wall again.

“yes,” she groaned, “god, raleigh, i --”

“say it.” his hand paused in its path, curling tight around her thigh, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise.

“i missed this.” the words tripped out in a needy rush, the full-body flush she could feel worsening. “i missed this, i missed you.”

“yeah,” raleigh agreed with an answering moan, bowing his head to bring his lips to her neck again as his fingers finally slid the last few inches up between her legs to touch her, the rough pad of his thumb circling in time with each swing of his hips.

in a matter of moments she was shaking, the rough scrape of raleigh’s teeth and stubble down the column of her throat making her squirm in the sheets, her legs trembling with the way he was touching her. her nails dug into the back of his hand when she tripped over the edge, and she felt her mouth work with what was doubtlessly a mindless jumble of profanities, her brain too dizzy to work out the specifics.

cadence was only distantly aware of raleigh’s hips rocking forward, the curse words he spit out in spanish when he followed her over the edge with his teeth biting at her shoulder. her head was still spinning from the ridiculous ride of it all, and when raleigh finally exhaled, lifted his head and grinned goofily at her, his hand pushing a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead, her heart joined the party, too, seizing up with a worrying tightness before beginning to do backflips in her chest.

he rolled over carefully onto his side, pulling her with him gently until she reached out and braced her hands on his chest. “you okay?”

“pretty good,” cadence murmured honestly. she felt better than she had in a long time. her eyes swept his face curiously, desperate for an understanding of what he might have been thinking. “just tell me now if this was, like, a palm-springs-only kind of thing.”

raleigh’s wide smile faltered. he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and she saw a flash of his teeth before he resolutely shook his head, eyes still fixed seriously on her face. there was quiet for a moment before he said, “i want to go at your pace, okay? but... i’d definitely take it all back, if i could. that fight we had -- and those things i said --” he trailed off, reaching out for her arm. “i could explain this a lot better if you give me, like, an hour.”

she laughed, smiling brightly despite the heaviness of their conversation. “sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin the afterglow.”

“no, this is important,” raleigh insisted softly, “‘cause i don’t want you to go home thinking -- whatever. and i don’t want this to be just a one-time thing. i mean, i’d love for this to be at least a ten-or-twelve-time thing before our flights tomorrow, but... ideally, uh. you know. there’d be more than that, too.”

cadence leaned in to close the distance between them, gently catching his lips in a quick kiss. as soon as their mouths brushed, raleigh relaxed against her, the tension abruptly dropping out of his limbs as his hands hesitantly came to rest on her back, tilting her in closer.

“i think that sounds great,” cadence murmured, the cautious smile that was spreading across raleigh’s lips enough to set a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach again.

“thank god,” he sighed, “because i seriously need a break before i have to put sentences together again, cadence. you killed me.”

“oh my god,” she laughed, “shut up, you’re so absurd.”

it was a long time before they finally dragged themselves out of bed and into the shower, and an even longer time before she felt like they were presentable enough to join the group, who all looked at the both of them with shit-eating, smug grins when they sat down at the fire in ascendance’s backyard together, raleigh snagging two slices of pizza out of the box on the table and dangling one of them straight into her waiting, open mouth.

“don’t,” cadence insisted without stopping to chew or swallow, “please keep it to yourselves.”

“what she said,” raleigh agreed, finishing his own slice of pizza in a few quick bites and passing his crust over to her wordlessly.

there was a beat of silence before seth said, “okay, no,” and then a cacophony of sound exploded around them, with each of their friends talking louder and louder over each other, shouting their questions out from around the fire.

she leaned her head on raleigh’s shoulder, chewing thoughtfully. there was certainly still a lot more to talk about -- so many things to discuss -- but she felt more on the same page with raleigh now than ever before, his palm spread out low across the small of her back with his ring and pinky finger dipped beneath the waistband of her shorts.

as avery and the others continued to bicker around them, raleigh turned his head and pressed his lips to her temple in a sweet kiss. “happy valentine’s day,” he murmured into her ear.

cadence glanced down at the face of his watch, shrugging. her lips curved up into her own private smile -- it wasn’t quite valentine’s day just yet, at nine o’clock on saturday night.

“we’ve still got three more hours,” she reminded him, basking in the warmth that raleigh’s fond, indulgent laugh provided, “let’s not push it.”

#raleigh carrera #raleigh carrera x mc #platinum #choices platinum #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #raleigh x mc #myfic #long post #ns*w #happy valentine's day ❤️

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

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Fools Rush In

Part 6

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 55: This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

A/N: Thank you to my amazing bestie @burnsoslow who beta read at 2 am last night. And my prereaders @charlotteg234 and @mom2000aggie

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunk night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained.

**MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC lives in Las Vegas.

Word Count: 1740

TW: Drug usage mentioned

Permanent Tags: @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty

Series: @princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk @captain-kingliamsqueen @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @cinnamonspongecake @loudbluebirdlover @liamandneca @waywardromancefantasygirl @thegreentwin @walker7519

The limo pulled out of the Taco Bell parking lot onto Tropicana Avenue, headed west towards Spring Valley. In the back was one king, a former prince, and a teacher-turned-overnight-queen of a country she'd never heard of 24 hours ago.

While the trio cruised down the bustling thoroughfare to retrieve some of Riley's belongings, Liam was on the phone with his credit card company. He was trying to figure out why his unlimited card was declined, leaving Riley to foot the bill for Leo's Nacho's Grande Box, a Triplelupa Box with extra lupa, and a Pineapple Freeze.

Leo gulped as he scooped melted cheese and beef up with a tortilla, trying not to look too guilty. He didn't want his younger brother to know that he and Drake paid for the entire bachelor trip using Liam's card ... among other unusual expenses. However, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Drake had it last, and the blame could fall squarely on his shoulders.

Frustrated, Liam hung up the phone after the automated agent couldn't understand his Cordonian accent and continued to reroute his call back to the beginning. No sooner did he put his phone away than he was alerted to an incoming call. Liam glanced down to see his stepmother's name flashing boldly with each ring. There were no doubts in his mind what she wanted. Obviously, the news had reached her at the Palace.

With an anxious feeling growing in his stomach, Liam let out a heavy groan before tapping the screen.

"Hello, Regina."

"Hello, dear." Her greeting was surprisingly warm and pleasant. "I need to know the truth; are these rumors accurate? Did your brother marry you to some strange woman?"

Liam rubbed a hand nervously across his mouth; he was in no mood for a lecture. "He did. But I don't even remember it happening."

He could hear her disappointed sigh and felt terrible that his actions caused her this much distress. Regina might not be his mother, but she had been an integral part of his life since childhood, and he didn't want to let her down.

"Is your brother with you? If so, I would appreciate speaking with him."

Liam shot a look at Leo, whose hands were covered in melty cheese and sour cream. "Uh, yeah, hang on. Let me put you on speaker." He hit the button and whispered loudly to his brother that it was Regina for him.

A broad grin appeared on Leo's face as he swallowed the last bite of food. "What's up, Mommio?"

"Leonardo Wolfschitz Rys!" Her once-gentle tone was now brittle. "I am highly disappointed in you."

His eyes widened in confusion, the grin he had on before fading instantly. "What? Why? It was Liam's idea."

"Perhaps, but did you try to stop him?"

"No. He's 27 years old," he squealed.

"Be that as it may, you're the older brother. You're supposed to know better."

Liam snorted. "That's true, Leo. You really should start setting a better example for me."

Leo narrowed his eyes, reached across Riley, who jerked back, and punched Liam in the groin, causing him to yelp. "You're such a tattletale; you got me in trouble! She was all I had left."

Liam rolled his eyes then reassured his stepmother he would meet with her when the plane landed back in Cordonia in the morning.

Staying quiet, Riley's wide-eyed stare remained fixed to the front of the limo, hands crossed in her lap. This ... this is my new family.

They made their way to Riley's townhome located within a tree-lined community scattered with homes similar to hers.

While Riley took the shower she’d been desperate to get since waking that morning, Liam made himself at home just as she asked him to. Leo had met Old Man Burt -- Riley's elderly neighbor -- as they walked up the driveway. He begged the man to let him whittle sticks with him. The senior man thoughtfully looked at him before spitting out chewing tobacco and instructing Leo to score him a dime bag, and it would be a deal.

Leo didn’t know the man from a hole in the wall, but replied, “You know what, Burt? This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.”

Leo knew just the place and took off.

The neighborhood was quiet and serene; as Liam drummed his fingers on the leather sofa's armrest, he could almost envision a life of simplicity like this. He closed his eyes to take in all the sounds and scents not entirely unfamiliar to him but things he imagined most people took for granted:birds chirping in the windowsill, the occasional car that passed by, the screech of bicycle brakes, apple cinnamon air fresheners, and another scent he hadn't smelled in years. Craning his neck around to look out the window, he saw Leo smoking pot with the white-haired man dressed in denim overalls in the front yard. "What the hell? Dumbass."

Riley's shower took longer than he expected; feeling antsy, he rose from the sofa and walked through the home, trying to get a sense of who she was. The house was well maintained with brightly colored artwork on the walls, a nicely stocked bookshelf, shiny hardwood floors, and metal-framed photographs of different sizes assembled atop the fireplace mantle.

Liam's eyes danced from photo to photo, studying Riley's images in a graduation gown posing with a small grinning brunette about Riley's age, her with two older gentlemen hugging in front of a Christmas tree, and a classroom of smiling kids holding up colorful drawings.

There was one frame that laid face down.

Thinking perhaps it fell over, he gently lifted the frame to put it back in place. His brows lifted in shock.

"She's married?"

"I was," Riley answered.

Liam whipped around with the photograph still gripped in hand, not sure what else to say. It wasn't like it was some deep, dark secret hidden from him, something that should upset him. She more than likely would have mentioned it to him at some point, considering they still hadn't had time to get to know each other. But he couldn’t shake the jealousy he felt.

"I'm sorry. I was just looking at your pictures and thought this one had been knocked over." He carefully placed it back on the mantle as Riley approached him.

Liam watched the hurt etch across her delicate features, and eyes that reflected a shattering pain as she stood face to face with her image in a flowy white gown wrapped in the arms of a man she admitted to being married to at one time.

"I … met him in my senior year of high school. We dated all through college. Had this big elaborate dream wedding after graduation. He was my best friend, my lover -- I thought he would be it forever ..."

Liam gripped her shoulder when she paused to catch a breath, noticing the slight break in her voice. "After two years, he no longer wanted to do anything together. His excuses were always the same: working late, too tired, ‘just want to hang out with the guys tonight.’ He stopped talking to me. Quit looking at me. Stopped touching me. I think I knew in my heart what was going on, but didn't want to believe it. Then one day … I came home from work, and his closet was empty." She let out a humorless laugh. "But at least he left a strongly-worded letter detailing all my faults and where I failed him. It said he found someone better and that I didn't make him happy. He just ... didn't want me anymore." Those last words came out in whimper.

"Riley." Liam wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. "Sweetheart, that wasn't your fault."

Riley stepped back and swiped the tears from her cheeks. "That's why I'm doing this, Liam."

"What d’ya mean?."

"When I met Madeleine, I just knew I couldn't let you marry someone who would make you miserable too. You deserve to find someone who will make you happy."

He smiled at her. "What if that's you, Riley?"

She stood motionless for a moment, thinking about that question, then shook her head and muttered, "I don't make people happy, Liam. In the end ... they always leave me."

When Riley turned to walk away, Liam caught her wrist and drew her back. His hands flew to both sides of her face, cupping along her jaw. Their eyes studied each other; those compassionate blues cast a spell on her teary browns, engulfing the warm air surrounding both of them in want and desire.

"I can't do this," she rasped weakly and lowered her face away from him.

Liam tilted her chin, his voice desperate and pleading. "Look at me, Riley. You can. You can. You just have to let me in."

Without a second more of hesitation, their lips collided into each other passionately.

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

Drake scowled at the envelope in his hand that bore his name in large letters. "What do you mean, I've been served? I ain't been served shit."

The smaller man prepared to explain, but the intimidating glare in Drake's eyes made him choose his words more carefully. "Mr. Walker. Sir. I'm just the messenger --"

"Then, you can take your message and ..." Drake shoved the envelope toward the man. "This fucking envelope back to where you came from. I don't have a kid or owe anyone child support."

The man backed away and looked at Maxwell to gauge whether he would protect him from his rather large, angry friend. He figured out real quickly the lanky one holding two full bags of medications most definitely wouldn't. He swallowed past the fear that collected in his throat. "Everything you need to know is in the envelope." He nodded to them, both. "Have a good day."

Drake slammed the door open and tossed the room key and his wallet on the kitchen counter. He ripped the envelope open and scanned the documents with Maxwell looking over his shoulder. "I'm being sued for $120,000 in back child support by a woman named ... Boom Boom Powell."

A picture slid from the documents and landed at Maxwell's feet. He bent down to pick it up and rose slowly when he caught a glimpse. "Uh, Drake. This must be a picture of the kids." He held the photograph up of what appeared to be three-year-old identical triplets. "Who do these kids look like?" He knew the answer before he asked.

Drake squinted to get a better look; then realization hit him. He had never been to Las Vegas, but he knew someone who had many times before. And judging by the blonde hair, blue eyes, and mischievous smirks on the three little boys in the picture, he knew his assumption was correct. He tightened his jaw. "That fucker! He is dead."

#fools rush in #the royal romance #liam and riley #king liam #trr liam x mc #liam x mc #liam x oc #trr #trr au fanfic #choices liam x mc #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #choice trr #choices the royal romance #king Liam x mc #drake walker #prince leo #tw drugs

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professorsnape394 · 3 years

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Nine: Letters, Lovers and Loyalties

A/N: This is the ninth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2185

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Yet another letter dropped into the lap of Aria Dumbledore as she sat absentmindedly sketching. Dropping her quill back into the small pot of ink which balanced on the arm of her chair, a small sigh escaped her lips. She had been expecting another to arrive any day now.

Aria allowed herself a small glance in the direction of her desk where the ever growing pile of unopened letter sat gathering dust. Disregarding her drawing, Aria traveled to her desk, fingers fumbling with the edge of the envelope. Admittedly, Aria's mind had been focused on that small pile of letters the past few days, and consequently the man who sent them. She couldn't bring herself to reply to his constant inquiries, but she had considered there was no harm in opening a few of them. She longed to hear from him, though she had been in denial for so long now she wasn't sure what to expect from his most recent letters.

Waiting no longer she ripped the paper from its wax seal, her eyes quickly scanning every word on the page.

My dear Aria, Though I know you say you cannot reply to my letters, I write them all with the hope that you will find the time in your busy schedule to at least read them. As always things are quiet here without you. Too quiet. I miss your voice. I miss hearing you sing to yourself in the shower thinking no one can hear you, I miss hearing you hum as you wander aimlessly through the house, I miss watching you draw as I pose for you, but most importantly I miss holding you in my arms. I long for the end of the school year when we will be reunited and I will have nothing to miss except maybe writing these letters. I long for a response to my letters, my darling. I simply must know that you miss me as I miss you. In the mean time I will continue to write to you to keep myself distracted from everything terrible happening in the world, by simply thinking of you. All my love, S.

Aria couldn't help but feel a great pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach for ignoring the letters, but she couldn't bare the thought of reading them, while she was still coming to terms with how she felt when she decided to leave for Hogwarts. She knew immediately she would not be able to maintain a long distance relationship with him. Though he was the first man she had ever loved she had been too cowardly to confess her feelings for him in person, let alone on a piece of parchment. She knew she was a pathetic coward from the moment he told her he loved her and she could not find it in her to return the favour. Her cowardice was more than proven the day she left for Hogwarts. Aria had planned to break up with him, to avoid further heartbreak down the line. But she could not even find the courage to do that.

Instead she was living in denial. In her mind they had broken up, and refused to face up to whatever she was truly feeling until it was absolutely necessary. Her plan had been to distract herself as much as possible, suppress her feelings and just forget about the situation completely. And to be totally honest her plan had been working for her, with the exception of a few off days such as today. However when it came time to wake up and face the music she had no idea what her plan would be then.

Leaving the letter open on her desk she took a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts to clear her mind. The time to figure out all of her problems was not now. She was still a young, carefree woman and she didn't want the burden of guilt stopping her from living her life however she so wished.

Arias walk led her to the village of Hogsmeade, and after working up a light sweat, the young professor opted to pop into the Three Broomsticks to quench her thirst.

Unsurprisingly for a late Tuesday evening the place was barren. Besides for a drunken wizard practically falling off his bar stood, a crazy witch whispering to herself and two well dressed men, sitting out of place in a side booth, the place was completely deserted. Planning to only stay for a pumpkin juice Aria took a seat at the bar and begun chatting to the same barmaid who had served her and Severus all those weeks ago.

"Busy night?" Aria joked, rolling her eyes at the drunk to her right.

The woman laughed in return, handing over a glass of pumpkin juice. "This is pretty much the standard, at this time." She shrugged, polishing off a perfectly clean glass, to keep herself busy. "That one over there doesn't even order anything, but its not worth the hassle kicking her out." She gestured to the old hag in the corner, her perfectly polished nails glistening in the dim bar light.

"I wish I could say I felt sorry for you, but a break away from the chaos that is Hogwarts is a slight relief." Aria sighed. She was still not used to being around so many people all the time having spent the past few years alone, besides her mother, she often needed time alone to breathe.

"Oh, then you must be new. I've had my fair share of lonely professors spend an evening behind my bar, and I usually remember who's spilled their whole life story to me. Though you do look familiar, what do you teach?" She finished up with her glasses, leaning her elbows on the bar to get a closer look at the younger woman, her breasts practically falling out her blouse.

"I'm just an apprentice for now. I'm the new Potions Mistress." Aria smiled, taking a small sip of her drink.

"Oh yes, now I remember. You came here with that Severus. He's not unfamiliar with our whiskey selection, if you know what I mean." Both women rolled their eyes in unison. "He doesn't seem to talk much though, I can't say I know anything about him. I must admit I was surprised to see him with a gorgeous young witch like yourself."

"You weren't the only one." Aria scoffed, finishing off her pumpkin juice.

"Well it makes a little bit more sense now." She laughed, a set of pristine pearly teeth emerging from her red glossy lips.

It seemed Aria was not the only one who had been admiring the woman's beauty, and almost right on cue the drunk decided to look a little bit more lively, demanding another pint. Reluctantly the barmaid obliged, shooting Aria an apologetic look.

Aria couldn't help but notice the gruff looking man practically throw himself over the bar in order to get a good gawk at the barmaids behind. The slightly older woman seemed unfazed by the mans actions, in-fact Aria wasn't entirely unsure she wasn't enjoying the attention. Choosing not to interrupt as neither party seemed to object to the altercation, Aria kept her mouth shut.

That was until the man's attention turned to her. The barmaid disappeared from view, presumably to refill the barrel the drunk had practically drowned himself in. "Haven't seen you around here before." He started harmlessly, though Aria did not miss the way his eyes seemed to scan the whole of her body.

"Just moved into Hogwarts, haven't seen much of Hogsmeade." Aria admitted, but made the conscious decision to turn away from him, hoping not to engage in any further conversation.

"You a friend of Ros'" He asked, intrigued, while downing a good half of his pint.

"Not really, no." Aria shrugged. "I didn't even know her name until just now."

"Rosalind Rookwood." He edged his seat closer to Arias. "Fantastic barmaid, though I wouldn't say it was her best profession." He winked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Aria turned her nose up at the man, just praying he would leave her alone.

"Well, you know, bein' a barmaids fine an all, but it doesn't always pay the bills. Miss Rookwood's got her fair share of stories to tell, and not all of them her own." He laughed, the potent stench of his alcoholic breath suffocating Aria as he leaned in closer, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders. "If it turns out teaching isn't for you, just know you'll have a loyal customer in me." He hiccuped, his free arm, reaching down to stroke the woman's exposed thigh.

Instinctively Aria gripped onto his wrist, forcing it off of her. "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" Aria exclaimed, pushing the man away from her. "Don't you dare lay your hands on me again."

The drunk showed no sign of guilt or remorse, he simply chuckled to himself, revealing a shocking lack of teeth. Disgusted, Aria made to move but found herself cornered against the bar.

Fortunately the altercation had caused enough disruption to alert the two men having a casual evening drink. Instantly one rushed over to her aid, stupefying the old man. The second man followed suit and made it his business to remove the frozen figure from the bar.

"Are you alright?" The first man asked, his brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine, thank you for stepping in." Aria smiled, brushing herself down, as though she was riding herself from the drunks disgusting touch.

The man returned a boyish grin, his eyes bright blue and full of kindness. Aria had never seen anyone like him. His presence was almost cartoon like, with positivity radiating from him. Aria couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, her smile growing just by looking at him. His energy was contagious.

"Is... is there anything I can do to thank you?" She tried your shake herself back to reality though remained entranced by him.

"Nothing at all. I'm just glad I was here to help." He extended a hand, almost nervously, introducing himself. "Alexander Turner, pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Aria blushed, unable to break eye contact with the man, and was now incredibly aware of how dumbfounded she must look. "I'm Aria" She stuttered, the sound of his friend retuning sending her back to reality. "I apologise for staring, but I just can't seem to take my eyes off you, you have an enchanting aura about you. I'm sorry if I may seem a little strange."

"There's no need to apologise, I get it all the time." He laughed, though not arrogantly, it was sweet and innocent. "My mother's a Veela." He added, almost embarrassedly, upon noticing the slightly look of confusion appearing on Arias face.

The couple shared an awkward smile, both at a loss for words.

Alexander's friend passed by the pair silently, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder before disappearing behind the bar, Rosalind following closely behind.

Aria noted the difference in both attitude and appearance in the two men, finally able to distinguish between the two. The friend was tall and broad shouldered, his hair messy though not long. He gave off a sort of American football, "bro", fratbroy vibe. In other words kind of arrogant and full of himself. Clearly he saw himself as the one in control. Alexander on the other hand was more slim, but not skinny. Tall but not lanky. Innocent but not naive. His clothes appeared similar to his friends but presented more neatly and well put together. She assumed he felt sorry for his friend, knowing his Veela parentage would gain him lots of female attention, and in return Alexander simply allowed himself to get pushed around to boost his friends ego.

With a roll of his eyes Alexander practically confirmed her theory and Aria couldn't stop herself from laughing once more.

Knowing that while Rosalind and 'Braydon'; as he turned out to be, would not be returning any time soon, Aria and Alexander chose to occupy one of the booths and get to know a little bit about each other, where Alex truly confirmed all of Aria's suspicions.

Upon Braydon's return, he flashed his rather large biceps, kissing each one in turn as he flexed them, before letting out a hearty growl, presumably this was a display of male dominance among his kind. His kind being; douchebags.

With another roll of her eyes Aria bid farewell to the men, thanking Alexander once more for his heroic rescue.

"How about a date?" Alex called nervously as Aria had just about reached the door.

"I'm sorry?" She replies, caught off guard.

"A date, here, with me. What do you say?" Aria shook her head unable to look away from that damn charming smile of his.

"I'll agree to a few drinks." She clarified. "Just send me an owl, you know where I'll be." And with that she disappeared once more down the path to Hogwarts, the grey sky above all the while threatening to rain down on her.

Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

#severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape one shot #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #severus x oc #severus x y/n #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #alan rickman #dumbledore #dumbledores granddaughter #potions master #potions masters apprentice #Severus Snape smut #severus snape fluff

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 4 years

Text

Knot In Love - Alpha!Dean x Omega! Reader

A/N: Part Thirteen is back. Again, where it’s a daily thing? I am not tagging anyone new. 3pm is the magical time, usually. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy one of my favorites <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Series Warnings: Forced mating. Knotting. Alpha/Omega dynamics. Witchcraft (more based on real craft than Hollywood). Angst. Etc. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: Roughly 3,800

“Y/N?” Castiel asked in confusion. He hadn't had time to learn about Dean's mate during the chaos that was Jack's birth.

“You're going to love her,” Dean enthused, on cloud nine as he drove. He'd said he needed a win. There was no better one than the man sitting in his back seat.

“She's been helping with Jack,” Sam spoke up. Helping out a bit, so it didn't seem as insane as it really was. “Dean kind of-”

“Marked her,” Dean finished for Sam. Almost proudly. Ignoring the fact that he'd been looking for a way to break the bond. Small details and all of that. “Without her permission, but all things considered-”

“You what?” Disbelief wasn't a strong enough word to explain the angel's tone. Yet, that's exactly what it was. “Dean, what were you thinking?”

“Heat of the moment,” The alpha shrugged, earning an eye roll from his brother. It was a piss poor answer and everyone knew it. The truth was, he hadn't had the control to stop it. But, he'd be damned if he admitted it there. “Anyways- you're going to love this. I go into a rut, right? And genius, here, decides to ask Jody for help. Turns out that she's Jody's niece. It's a real small world.”

“I don't see how you thought I'd love any of this.” The angel stated seriously, looking at his friend in worry.

“That's cause you don't have a sense of humor, Cas,” The older brother shot back. Using wit as a crutch to break it down. “Anyways, come to find out, she's a witch.”

“I'm still not laughing, Dean.” Was the very serious reply. “You mated a witch?” With that revelation came the next. “You left a witch with Jack?” The angel went into full father mode at the flip of a dime. “What were you thinking-”

“Dean left out the bit where it's not our traditional witch,” Sam chimed in, shooting his brother a scowl. It did no good. He was still practically dancing in his seat. Too upbeat by far. “More like a psychic than anything like Rowena. Still powerful, though.” The last bit was more of an after thought than anything.

“How do you figure that one? I know I called her a witch, but it isn't anything deep. Just wishful thinking on her part.” Dean didn't like the tone his brother had used. Almost as if in awe of what you could do. In his mind, he'd written you off as a herb loving hippie who claimed to be a witch. It was the easiest way to cope.

“She did a reading for me-”

“She what?” That time, it was the older Winchester who broke out that line. Looking almost betrayed. The angel in the back was busy looking at the ceiling. Asking his, yet again, missing father what he'd been left to deal with, mentally.

“I asked her to, Dean.” Sam answered easily. As if it was nothing to be ashamed of. And it wasn't. Yet, he wouldn't reveal the specifics. That had been meant for him, and him only. He wouldn't soil the gift you'd given.“She's the real deal. There's things she couldn't have known, but those cards-”

“A trick of the hands.” Dean grumbled, his mood turning sour. He didn't want to think about your power. That stuck a little too close to him given Billie's inclusion of your name. “A hell of a fast one, I'm sure.”

“Dean...All she did was pull the cards from the top of the deck. She talked to me while I shuffled, but...I...I watched. There was nothing.” That was somehow worse than the thought of you tricking Sam. It made you a threat. “There wasn't a trick. Then, there's the wind-”

“What wind?” Suddenly, the surly Dean was back in full force. Eyes blazing.

“She taught Jack how to whistle up a wind,” Sam didn't want to admit it by that point. However, he knew enough to know that it would fester to the breaking point if he didn't. You'd be on the receiving end. “She's not like Rowena...not even close, but Y/N...She's a witch.” It was a simple statement. “You mated a witch, Dean. And right now? That witch is teaching the son of Lucifer how to control himself.” Dean swallowed hard. “That's just... fact. You can't run away from it.”

“Watch me,” With that, his hand jerked over to the radio. Hitting the button so that the music ended the conversation without a hitch.

–

“I did it,” Jack laughed, staring at the pencil that he'd let fall on the ground. Cheeks no doubt aching from the sizable grin. “I really did it.”

“You did good,” Your answer was drawn out. The exhaustion never seemed to leave. “Why don't we take a break?”

Just like that, all cheer drained from the room, “Maybe you need to go to a doctor,” His worry was evident as he stared you down. Taking in just how weak you really were.

“I don't need a doctor, Jack.” You needed your mate. The one that you couldn't get a hold of due to your destroyed phone. “I'll just close my eyes a bit, okay?”

Your arms cushioned your head as they drifted shut. There was no theatrical wait. You were out in seconds.

Instead of it just being a bit, you slept against the table in the library for hours. Jack entertained himself with the laptop. He didn't even blink when he felt Dean approach. Simply stared at the screen, typing away.

“How'd it go?” He asked readily. Quiet enough that it wouldn't wake you.

“Well,” Dean spoke up, leading the way. Sam on his heels. Everything he'd been about to say faded as he caught side of you in the distance. You were too deep into the exhaustion to be awoken by the gaze. Your breathing was soft as you snuggled into your own arm.

“Jack, um...” Sam wasn't much better. But, it got Jack to look upwards.

“What's wrong?” He'd been around long enough to identify that tone. Something wasn't being said. Both men simply turned to the opening.

There, the man in the trench coat walked forward, “Hello, Jack.” His deep, rumbling voice sounded too familiar to ignore.

“Castiel?” His shoulders straightened out as he sat more upright. Processing the newest twist.

“Yeah, it's me.” The angel sighed out. Looking more than a little nervous at the reunion. Lip twitching as he took in the child he'd been so eager to meet.

“No.” Jack got to his feet. The slant to his body more than protective as he blocked the angel's view of you. “We burned your body...and what's burned stays dead.” It was a rule that had been drilled into his head repeatedly. “How...”

“Well, that's the question we've been asking,” Dean spoke up, loudly enough that you jarred upwards. Awake, though groggy. “Heya, sweetheart. Nice of you to join the party.” The rough hand caressed your cheek as you blinked into focus. He frowned a bit when he found the covering over your neck, but he didn't get a chance to ask.

“Jack...” Sam stepped forward, swallowing tightly. Instantly, you became more alert before locking eyes on the man with the blue eyes. He assessed you in the same manner, before turning to more important things. You didn't move your gaze. “Did you, uh...Did you bring Cas back?”

Your head whipped around to the boy. Understanding exactly what was happening, then. Jack had done the impossible.

“I don't know.” Came the weak answer. He looked almost pained as he revealed the truth that you'd already known. “I wanted him back.. I...begged for him to come back, but...”

“Well, here he is.” Dean stated as if it truly needed done.

“Because of me?” He sounded as if he didn't believe it. Bound to the floor in shock.

“We don't know...” Sam's voice was almost breathy as he spoke up. “We don't know, Jack.” He was still amazed beyond belief. “But, we...” He took a steadying inhale, hands pressed deep into the pockets of the tan hunter's coat, “we...we think. Maybe.”

“Intention is everything.” You felt the angel's eyes jump to you when the boy's did the same. Looking for the approval he craved. “I think you did it.” You were every bit the proud, glowing mother figure, then. Even with the shadowed eyes and torn up throat.

“Thank you, Jack.” All attention was turned back to where it belonged. Cas.

A tiny, twitch of the lip followed before Jack started moving forward, “I missed you so much.” He wrapped the angel in a hug that was returned as easily. Cas closed his eyes to savor the moment before the embrace ended. Their hands didn't quite pull away immediately, though. Too long and not long enough all at once. It was Jack who released the hold in the end. Uncertainty making itself known.

“Sam and Dean tell me you're doing well.” Castiel left his hand in place on Jack's shoulder.

“I am.” He nodded easily, eyes more than a little watery as he choked the words out past the emotions that were running rampant inside of him. “I...” A pleased little smile lined his lips as he pulled back, “Watch this.” He stepped away, then. Drawing all eyes back to the desk. Once there, his hand rested over the pencil. It levitated with ease, drawing different reactions from each man. You, however, were simply proud.

“Wow,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“I can move the pencil.” Jack beamed brightly. “And,” He sat down in his chair. “I found a case.” Everyone moved in closer, then. “Hunters case.”

“What kind of a-”

“Zombies!” Dean was cut off by the excited answer. Jack had fallen in love with the undead, so you weren't shocked by the interest this time around. Everyone stepped forward, looking to get in on what he was talking about. A whisper towards Cas and Sam followed, “I know what zombies are now.” Sam's eyes met yours and you gave a sheepish shrug. Someone had to teach the kid about the horror life, after all. It only seemed fitting that it be a witch. “You see?”

“Wait.” Dean spoke up again, leaving your body tense as a simple click pulled up the page he was looking for, “Where'd you learn to do that?”

“By watching you,” Jack answered easily, not bothering to look up. “And Sam...and Y/N.” Dean's hand squeezed your shoulder a bit, earning a warning glare from you. Telling him plainly that mate or not, he'd be beaten if he dared to cause Jack to question his newfound strengths. “Three days ago, a vintage pocket watch with a personal inscription was sold at a pawn shop. But, when they went to authenticate it, they found out that it had been buried with its owner.” He looked up to Sam. Hoping to see the glint of approval in the hazel eyes. “Twenty years ago.” Moving back to the screen, he continued. “And when they checked out the grave, it was empty.” That time Dean got the smile. “Which means,” A key was tapped. “The dead are rising in Dodge City, Kansas.” Goosebumps lifted on your skin.

When you looked up at your mate, however, all trepidation was gone. He fought back his grin for a minute. He really did. However, he failed.

“Right,” Sam began. “Or maybe it's a- a grave robbery.” The more logical answer was thrown out there. “But...”

“Oh,” Jack seemed almost disappointed at that. His mind had ignored that possibility.

“Yeah,” Dean's voice came out strong. “But, we should probably check it out.” You were gaining whiplash from jerking your head back and forth

“Wait...really?” It was the angel who spoke up that time. Jack didn't even look confused. Simply stunned that Dean had agreed with him. Your face wasn't much better.

“Yeah, we've done more on less.” Sam looked as if he'd fall over. “Besides, Dodge City's kind of, uh...kind of awesome.” It was your turn to make use of the Winchester bitch face. Castiel turned to Sam as if hoping he'd get an explanation there. He got nothing. “Alright, well...” You could feel Dean's excitement. So different from everything you'd felt from him before. He was on the move, then. “Two salty hunters, one half angel kid, a witch that isn't a witch,” Your eyes narrowed at that one. “And, a dude that just came back from the dead. Again.” Jack glee was brimming over. A nod of pleasure left Dean as he made it to the head of the group. Taking in his soldiers. His tongue came out to wet his lips as it was decided. “Team Free Will 2.0.” He grinned with a smile that near bowed you over. So carefree. Happy. “Here we go.” Your stomach knotted. Even with the good, something bad was coming.

“Dean!” You clambered to your feet. It was too late. He was gone. Whistling on his way to his room. You didn't have the energy to keep up with him. “Damn it.”

“You okay?” Sam turned to you. Motioning towards your neck. Asking what his brother had missed. Or perhaps even ignored.

“I was hoping that you could answer that,” With a small grunt, you exposed the oozing, raw meat that was hanging on top of the remains of the mark. Just enough still there to hold the connection in place. “What happened while you were gone?”

Your body was screaming at you to follow Dean. To reaffirm the bond. But, you couldn't bring yourself to sour his mood. Not just yet. That damned empathy holding you back.

“You're not going to like it,” The hunter sighed out. Pain etching his features. From both the memory and the wound.

“I can...heal that. If you'd like.” Your head jerked towards the angel. He was assessing you. Attempting to determine how much of a threat that you were. Or could grow to be.

“I...I don't think-”

“That'd be great!” Jack spoke up. Looking to the father figure he'd wanted back so very badly. Eyes gleaming in anticipation. “He can show me, Y/N.”

“How am I supposed to argue against that?” You sighed out. Hating the old student-teacher ploy. You'd rather stew in your own misery than have the guarded being touch you. But, it meant too much to Jack. “Thank you.” You sent an appreciative smile towards the angel. He simply stared at you as if you were something to be dissected. It was then you realized you couldn't get a read on him in the slightest. You didn't like it. Not one bit. You liked what Sam had to say even less.

“You're going to do something you shouldn't,” Jack stated as your body hit the doorway.

You weren't the only one who had a sense of what could happen in the world. The nephilim was quickly picking up and honing in on the skill. He'd known the second he'd watched your shadowy figure make its escape.

“I don't have a choice, Jack.” You didn't turn around, your basket dangling off of your arms. Afraid that your resolve would wither if you did. Something that you couldn't afford. Sam's story had tore you apart. Nearly as bad as the wound itself. Dean was off on his own, glowing in the turn around his life had become. Unaware of the damage outside of the bubble he'd created. “He didn't leave me with one, this entire time.”

“Because it's how it's supposed to be,” You clenched your eyes at that. Your body agreed. Even your mind understood it to an extent. Though, you certainly didn't want to believe it. “You two are-”

“Something bad is coming, Jack.” He didn't like that answer. Wasn't used to you cutting him down so easily. His ever present rippling emotions swarmed you. Worry. Guilt. “It's coming, and...and it's going to hit me like a train. I can feel it.”

Your mind wandered back to the scrying you'd done once everything had settled back down. You'd darkened the room you had taken up as your own. The crystal ball had rested against black cloth, on the simple stand you'd brought with you. Two candles illuminated the room. You gazed into the orb, waiting for the signs to appear. For your future to be told.

The crystal didn't give full visions. Not like people tended to expect. Instead, it gave its message in a colored cloud that nestled and writhed in the center. A mix of black, red, and grey had appeared. Bad items coming, danger, and ill fortune. You didn't get much darker than that.

You didn't know the specifics; didn't need to. The warning had been clear. You'd already almost died twice because of the mating. A third time was too much to risk.

“You're sure?” Concern coated his voice, tangled with uncertainty. He trusted your instincts. But his own were telling him that if you walked out that door, a mistake would be made.

“I've never been more sure of anything in my life,” You turned to Jack so that he could see your face. To try and encourage him to understand. The desperation in your eyes seared through him. He'd let you go. He didn't have a choice. “I've got to do this.”

“He's not going to be happy.” You knew that. For all his talk, Dean hadn't been prepared to act. Not even when your nails had ripped chunks of flesh from your body at his hands. You were certain there was no way he hadn't guessed. He'd chosen to ignore it. He was still too reckless. Too filled with that dangerous energy to protect himself. To protect you. No, as long as you were mated, you weren't safe. “Just...stay safe.”

“I'm trying,” You reached up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Every worry the boy possessed seemed to be radiating from his tense body. “I won't leave you. I promise.” Your thumb brushed against his shoulder in comfort.

“It's like you can read my mind, sometimes.” Jack gave you a soft little smile. Out of everyone, you seemed to understand him the most. He didn't know what he'd do if you ever left his side. “I don't know how I feel about that, honestly.”

“No one ever does,” With your own wicked little grin, you pointed out the obvious. “Joys of being a witch.” It faded away as the wind whipped the surface of the bunker. “Go relax, Jack. It's been a wild day...We're leaving early in the morning.” The order was filled with stress. The weather had your body practically vibrating. His concern only amplified it.

“I will when you're back,” His eyes told you that he'd be waiting. That he'd cover for you if you needed. With that, you yanked up the hood of your jacket and walked out, into the storm.

The energy was overwhelming. Exactly the thing you needed to harness. The bunker held too many wards for you to remain inside. Your mission was too important to risk it blocking your magic.

The familiar path was harsher in the wicked night. Each flash of a leaf drew your attention. As if it were trying to chase you back. You found your space a ways from the bunker, resting under a nest of trees to give you some relief from the rain. You'd built a small shelter over time. Branches weaved together out of love. Your own little private space.

There was no need for an alter. Intention was everything. And there was more than enough of that stewing inside of you.

You could have waited for the right moon phase. Could have followed through on a specific day. However, the unknown threat that rested over you commanded that you acted immediately. Simply trust in yourself. In your own abilities being enough. The hood left your head, and you set out to get to work.

The black candles were pulled out first. You had personally melted the wax down to create them for the very purpose you'd use them. A process that made it more personal. Cayenne aided in your venture. Separation was a specialty it carried. A pinch rested inside the wax. Waiting to break apart the binds holding you down.

Then, came the sharp piece of black obsidian. Smoothly shaped into an arrowhead. Perfect for amping up the power you carried within you. It was almost too strong. You didn't handle it often, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

On the first, your name was carved into the soft wax. As clear as you could get it on the dark night. On the second, Dean's name was etched. The black ribbon wrapped around both wide, but short candles. Just large enough to fit your names. Small enough to speed up the burning process. Ensuring it would be over with quickly. The ribbon rested across the belly of both; ensuring that it wouldn't be burned by the wick. A small space separated the two. Close, but with just enough room between them to work.

The match had no trouble catching on the small strands of string. “These two flames burn brightly together,” Your voice was strong as you called out into the storm. Despite the shake of your hand. “But, one consumes the other with this link between them.” You would be consumed. There were no doubts left. Even before you'd looked into the crystal ball, you'd known. “No more shall I suffer from the sadness brought by Dean.” Your eyes focused on the flames that burned was strong and billowed straight into the air. A sign it was working. “No more shall I be hurt by Dean.” Your hand rubbed against the mark at those words. The wounds may have been healed, but the emotional damage was still present. Snaking over the spell. “I sever my ties from thee.” The obsidian was lifted. Slicing through the ribbon with ease. Destroying the bond symbolically. For a moment, the flame seemed to lift higher.

Your body felt drained as you stared at the ongoing spell. The water in your eyes couldn't be denied. The soul was mourning the loss of what could have been.

Ordinarily, you'd have hated the idea of crying. Instead, you simply let them fall. Telling yourself that the salt water would aid in your protection...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger @lilulo-12 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @michaelneedssomemilk @lemondropirwin @fanfictionismydeath @neii3n @surmya1907

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @screechingartisancashbailiff @woodworthti666 @coldmuffinbanditshoe

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samingtonwilson · 4 years

Text

Apartment 8C - Chapter 1

Telling the Kids About Your Separation

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: SHE’S BACK, LADIES. the only tag list i’m using is the permanent one, nothing specifically for this series sorry!

“You guys said it wouldn’t last…”

Natasha looks between the two of you. Steve’s beer is at his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. Wanda’s fingers pause in the bowl of popcorn she’s placed in her lap. Only Sam has a visibly emotional reaction.

He’s on the verge of bursting— maybe in frustration as the two of you are blocking the television, maybe in laughter.

It doesn’t help that you’ve hidden your hands behind your back. Nor does it help that you and Bucky are both grinning like giddy idiots while you stare at your friends who now sit with pin-straight postures on the sectional in your living room.

“And you were right!” you shout once several awkward beats have passed.

There is a loud POP! when you bring your hands forward to twist the bottom of a party popper, iridescent confetti falling over the coffee table and tangling itself in Natasha’s hair, and a triple air horn sound effect cuts through the silence when Bucky opens the app on his phone.

The two of you are laughing and high-fiving one another, but the four before you continue staring.

That is, until longsuffering Sam— fingers pressed into his temples— speaks. “You called us over here to tell us you broke up?”

Bucky shrugs and takes the empty party popper from you. He turns it over and shakes it, disappointed when more confetti doesn’t fall out. After all, he’d purchased the ones from Target just for the extra confetti. “We have consciously uncoupled.”

“That term refers to divorce,” Wanda says as she picks the confetti out of the popcorn and lets it fall to the floor. When she looks up, her expression is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “And, as far as I know, you two were never married.”

Natasha, fingers combing through her hair, frowns. “I actually forgot you were even dating.”

“Yeah, so did she,” Bucky says as he jabs his elbow into your ribs with a snort. “We didn’t want you guys finding out from somewhere else.”

“Like where?” Sam asks. He scoots over to let you sit beside him, eyes narrowed at Bucky who falls into his usual spot— the worn barcalounger you’d begged him not to bring when he moved in. “You think they’d send out a campus-wide alert that you two broke up? Or that E! News would be reporting it after they talk about whichever Kardashian is having another baby?”

That steals Wanda’s attention from the popcorn bowl. “Speaking of, how is one of them always pregnant?”

There’s a fair amount of indistinct chatter to answer Wanda’s question, but it is all loudly interrupted with a simple: “Does this mean Bucky is moving out?”

It seems that everyone turns to look at Steve simultaneously. Squeaks of leather as you all shift around, the click of a bowl being placed on the wooden table.

He understands the question in all of your gazes, and shrugs with a sigh of defeat. “They’re probably just genetically very fertile— Kris has had, like, eighteen children herself. Now, does Bucky have to find a place?”

Then all eyes slide to you. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose wrinkles. The absolute picture of disbelief. It has Bucky fighting a smile. “Why would he need to do that?”

“Living with an ex is hard,” Sam replies. He sets his hand on yours and gives your fingers a light squeeze. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t necessary. “It’d make sense if you couldn’t—”

“Bucky moved in a while before we started dating,” you tell them, each word said in an imploring tone. “He still has his bedroom, I still have mine. Besides, we didn’t break-up because we can’t stand being around each other.”

“Then why did you break-up?”

The inquiry is directed at Bucky, who everyone shifts to face. The piercing attention draws a light blush over the bridge of his nose and at the highpoints of his cheeks. You hold back a soft laugh. “We’re just better as friends. The romantic compatibility wasn’t there.”

“Romantic compatibility, conscious uncoupling,” Natasha repeats with a surprised laugh. “Does this man have a Goop membership, or something?”

Despite your own laughter, you nod at Bucky. “He’s right, though. It just— Something was missing.”

As inarticulate as it is, it’s the truth. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, at least at first glance. You kissed each other hello— when you remembered— and you kissed each other goodbye— when you remembered.

But you often forgot— you usually forgot. Which might be explanation enough as to why the two of you didn’t last.

—

“Was the sex bad?”

You nearly choke on the sip of wine you’d taken. Glancing at the boys in the living room to confirm they were blissfully unaware of Wanda in the kitchen, you set your glass onto the counter and narrow your eyes at her. “You should increase your volume the next time you ask something like that.”

“It couldn’t have been too bad,” Natasha says from the barstool beside Wanda’s, still frowning. She’d managed to remove every piece of confetti from her hair and it now sits in a small pile next to her glass. “You two weren’t exactly virgins when you met.”

Your answering smile is sarcastic. “Hilarious. The sex wasn’t bad. He’s— He’s good at it.”

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Natasha snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “For his sake, I hope none of us let it slip that Barnes’ dick is trash.”

“It isn’t trash! Okay.” You wiggle a finger at Wanda. “You. Imagine having sex with Steve.”

Her nose immediately wrinkles, her scowl instantaneous. “Understood. But then why date in the first place?”

“Remember the night my ‘friends’ from high school were in the city?”

The smile Natasha wore due to your finger quotes gives way to a deep grimace. “The night that girl with the bad bleach job pranced around here showing her ring off? I wish I could forget.”

You nod. “All night, she kept telling me someone might be out there for me. That I probably won’t be too late, that some people end up alone and it’s okay. Like I’m tofu and she’s apple pie.”

“You lost me with that one.”

“Like I’m an acquired taste and she’s universally appealing.”

You smile when they laugh to themselves, but shake your head seconds later. “I don’t care if I end up alone. I’ll be fine either way. It’s just the insinuation that I’ll fail if I try to find someone. Like it’s prom all over again.”

“D’you punch her teeth in? Can I punch her teeth in?”

You roll your eyes at Natasha. “I drank my weight in whatever bullshit wine she’s stupid enough to pay for, texted Bucky to pick me up, and fucked him on the couch to make myself feel better.”

Her features twist in disgust. “The couch we all sit on?”

—

While Sam yells at the television as if the New York Giants can hear his admonishments and advice, Steve sits back against the sofa cushions. His sigh is heavy and pointed, meant to draw attention, but it fails.

So he places his feet on the coffee table. He crosses his legs at the ankle. And he glares.

An unsuccessful moment later, he speaks. “I’m not gonna let you crash on my couch.”

Unable to stop himself, Bucky smiles but otherwise focuses on the game. “That’s a fun psychic premonition. Do you read palms, too?”

Steve attempts to look more threatening and narrows his eyes to slits. The blue is icy, menacing.

However the elephant cushion he’s clutching to his chest? Not helping his cause. “So she dumped you because you’re a pain in the ass? Is that it?”

“She dumped me because I’m too good in bed and it was starting to become too much for her.”

Sam pauses the game just to join Steve in looking at Bucky skeptically.

He just rolls his eyes. “No one dumped anyone. We both decided we’re better as friends.”

“S’usually a lie when people say that,” Steve remarks. He sticks his tongue out when Bucky narrows his eyes in offense.

“It isn’t this time.”

Sam, wearing a sly smile as he turns his attention back to the game, asks the next question: “Were there tears?”

“She was stone cold.” Grinning as he holds his bottle of beer to his lips, he adds jokingly, “I cried like a baby, though.”

Sam hums. “Not surprised. You fuckin’ sobbed at Inside Out.”

“Oh, so you didn’t cry when Bing Bong said ‘Take her to the moon for me’?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What, are you a fuckin’ monster, Wilson?”

The grinding of Steve’s teeth is almost audible, his irritation painfully evident when he tosses the cushion aside.

Yet he still straightens it to make sure the elephant is sitting up straight, trunk pointed to the ceiling.

“I’m being serious, Buck. Living with an ex... It’s touchy and awkward. How are you gonna feel when she’s got some guy over?”

“The same way she’ll feel when I’ve got some girl over,” the answer is said with ease. “Hell, I’ll give her a condom if she needs one.”

“And your feelings just turned themselves off?”

His shrug is a bit reluctant, the smile he offers Steve hesitant. “Hers did.”

—

Hours pass before it’s just you and Bucky in the apartment.

Natasha and Wanda leave first to get enough sleep before their eight-AM class, and Steve only manages to coax Sam off the couch once he has watched the game highlights and coverage twice over. You think you might scream if you ever hear the SportsCenter theme again.

Leaning against the door after it shuts behind Steve and Sam, you offer Bucky a sleepy smile as he rummages through the refrigerator. Judging by his sour expression, there’s nothing good to eat. “That was easier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I’m real glad I read that ‘Telling the Children about the Divorce’ article for it.” He slams the fridge shut. There is desperation in his voice when he asks, “Are you hungry, too?”

Dish rag tossed in his direction, you flip the faucet on to wet each glass. “When am I not hungry, Bucky?”

“Are you more willing to pay for pizza or Thai?”

“S’too late for Thai.” You set a washed glass atop the counter and get started on soaping up the next one. “We’ll get Thai when it’s your turn to pay.”

Three glasses sit on the counter before Bucky sets his phone down and begins drying them. He peers over at you with attempted tact.

But, to his dismay, you smile and meet his blue eyes with a playful glare. “What?”

“Steve’s dead-set on me moving out.”

Your frown is immediate. You stop scrubbing the popcorn bowl for a moment. “Do you want to move out?”

His reply is instant. He stops drying a glass for a moment. “No. Do you want me to move out?”

“No.” You resume scrubbing. “I can’t live here with anyone else.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek to avoid a grin, Bucky nods. He decides to change the subject and bumps his hip against yours. “Sam thought we were gonna tell everyone we got engaged.”

Startled laughter and you hand Bucky the washed bowl, switching the tap off and leaning your hip against the counter’s edge. “After, like, four months of dating? No wonder he looked so terrified.”

“Should’ve played it off that way just to see what they’d say,” he muses as you help him put the dishes away. “Tasha would’ve hosted an intervention for you.”

You hum in agreement. “Steve would’ve definitely called your mother.”

“Would Wanda faint or is that too dramatic?”

“She was ready to faint when I told her we had sex on the couch.”

Eyebrows raised, he watches as you walk to the living room and fall into that exact couch with exaggerated relief. “You told her that?”

Another hum. “Nat almost threw up.”

“At the thought of us having sex in our own home?” he snorts, adding in a deadpan tone, “Oh, the horror.”

Bucky collapses onto the couch beside you and smiles when you drop your head onto his shoulder. He toys with the stray pieces of confetti littered over the cushions. “Went all the way to Target for the more expensive poppers and they had even less confetti than the Party City ones.”

“Just because something costs more doesn’t mean it’s better.”

He gasps playfully. “We have a genius in our midst. Someone please embroider everything she says onto pillows.”

“Yeah and I’ll use those pillows to smother you in your sleep.” You lift your head and set your chin on his shoulder instead. You try to glare, but his smile is contagious. “I know where you live, Barnes.”

“You won’t for long if Steve has it his way.”

“If the world operated according to Steve’s wishes, we’d all be required, by law, to eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and wear shirts two sizes too small.”

CHAPTER 2: FINDING YOUR INDEPENDENCE

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes college au #a8c

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