#cause he's pulled shit like this before with the fourth season!!!!! that shit came four years after the series ended with no warning!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stardusttkachuk · 3 years

Text

take it out on me

Pairing: Nolan Patrick x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: smut, Dom!Nolan, spanking, choking, daddy kink, use of the color system, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, mentions of bruises, fluff, Summary: Nolan comes home from a rough roadie. Y/N suggests he take it out on her like he’s done before, but things are a bit too rough this time and Nolan ends up hurting her, sending him into a panic and promising to do everything and anything to make it better.

Nolan had been having a bad week to begin with, hell a bad season at that. There was talk of him being benched for a game, as he wasn’t producing at all. His last goal came in a shootout, but otherwise, it’d been goose eggs for a while. He had already been moved to the fourth line and he was a mixture of anxious and angry as he left for the most recent roadie.

Losing 0-9, then 1-6 at the end really tipped him off. He came home fuming, disappointed in himself, upset with the team and the tension that was radiating through the locker room the entire time. And tired. The flight was rough. All he wanted was something to eat and then to go to bed.

He was harsh with the apartment door, slamming it upon entering, cussing at himself for slamming it, knowing you’d be on him later for it. He hadn’t even noticed you standing in the kitchen, watching him with pitiful eyes.

Of course, you knew about the season. You knew how he felt about his own performances and the teams as a whole. You knew how stressed out he’d been lately.

“Nolan?” you asked tentatively, watching as he leaned back against the door.

“What?” His voice was harsh, but you could hear the softness laced around it, trying to be calm around you.

“You know the last time you were stressed and...and you took it out on me? We can do that again if you want to.”

“Seriously?” he breathed, almost out of relief. “Baby if you’re down for it, I could really use that.”

You nodded and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and having to stand on your toes to meet his height. “I’m here, I want to.”

“You’ll say red if you need to, right?”

“You know I would,” you said, brushing your hand through his hair, disheveled from what you could only assume was the flight.

“Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you up, you hooking your legs around his waist.

Nolan’s lips were on yours, blindly finding his way to the bedroom. He kicked the door closed, throwing you down onto the bed, a slight smirk crossing his features as you bounced, finding a comfortable position for yourself. He wasted no time undressing you, tossing the clothes carelessly to the floor.

“Nolan, oh fuck!” You moaned as his tongue lapped at your already soaked center.

“What was that?” He asked, hand colliding with your ass, hard. You whined at the feeling, the loss of him eating you out and now the stinging pain on your bottom.

“Nolan, please?” Your sentence died off as he spanked you again, flipping you over onto your stomach.

“What’s my name?” His question had your thighs shaking. He really must’ve had a bad week. Nolan was usually on the rough side most times, but when he got like this it meant something was really wrong.

“Daddy,” you moaned, gripping onto the pillow. He rolled you back over again, giving you a quick smile before delving back between your thighs. He was quick to lift your legs over his shoulders, gripping your thighs and mouthing at your clit.

“More,” you begged, grabbing his hair and pulling at the brown locks, eliciting a moan from him. He fucked you with his tongue, his thumb flicking your clit and sending you into your first orgasm.

“Fuck, baby. You taste so good,” Nolan hummed, using his shirt to wipe off his chin. Your cheeks reddened at the sight you’d never get used to.

“How many times do you think you can cum tonight, Y/N?” He asked, his middle finger entering you.

You hummed, holding onto his wrist as he fingered you.

“Answer my question,” he demanded, sending butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“F-Four,” you stuttered, and he smirked, adding a second finger and crooking them against your g-spot. You writhed on the bed, mouth hung open in an ‘o’ shape as he pumped his finger in and out of you, his thumb brushing your clit occasionally.

“You really think only four?” He chuckled, one hand now holding your hips down, his eyes focused on your pussy and what his hands were doing to you. “I bet I could get five.”

You moaned at his statement, trying to push your hips up, but failing as he held you down. It wasn’t long before the familiar warmth grew in your stomach, the sounds coming from your lips only urging Nolan to continue, barely even slowing when you released on his fingers. It was only when you began to squirm under his touch that he pulled his fingers out, wiping the excess on his pants.

He unbuttoned his dress shirt throwing it somewhere onto the floor to join your discarded clothing. Nolan laid down on his back, pulling you over his hips, his hard-on visible through the slacks he had on, pushing up against your core.

You raised up on your knees and undid the belt and button of his pants, sliding them, along with his boxer briefs off. Nolan kicked them off his ankles, before grabbing your hips and slamming you down on his cock, the two of you crying out together in pleasure.

“Ride me, baby girl,” he ordered and you rocked your hips against his, bouncing a few times, but it clearly wasn’t enough for Nolan. He began thrusting himself into you, his hands digging into your hips hard as he fucked you. It wouldn’t surprise you if tomorrow you’d find bruises where his fingertips had been.

Nolan’s hand trailed from your hip, up to your rib, stopping to tease your breast, thumbing over your nipple until you were whimpering, before finally coming to stop at the base of your throat. You slowed down for a second to register what was happening, but with one look from Nolan, you knew exactly what he wanted. His hand tightened around your neck and you leaned into it, letting him take control.

“Cum,” he growled, his lips turning upwards into a smile at your choked moan as you came on his cock.

He let go of your throat, checking in with you quickly. “Green,” you said. He didn’t give you long to recover, pushing you face down onto the bed, his hand gripping at your shoulders as he entered you again.

“Scream baby. Want the neighbors to hear you,” he spoke, using your shoulders for leverage as he slammed into you repeatedly.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Who’s fucking you?” he asked.

“Nolan,” you moaned, your breath hitching when he thrust into you harder.

“Who?”

“Daddy!” you cried.

“Good girl,” Nolan grinned and pulled out of you. “On your back,” he grunted, roughly helping you flip over. You were starting to get tired, but nowhere near your end, still willing to be there for him. You could tell the anger was beginning to fade, but he was still in his role, not ready to give it up yet.

He slammed back into you and you arched up, screaming out his name as he pounded into you. His hand rested around your throat once more and you swallowed hard, catching his eye and nodding, a silent message that meant he could do it. His grip tightened, just slightly again at first, enough for you to feel it but not enough to hurt. You moaned, closing your eyes tightly.

Gradually, he tightened his hold around your throat. The harder he fucked you, the harder his grip became, much tighter than the first time. You watched the pleasure on his face as he chased his high but you realized he was no longer paying attention, or caring how hard he was choking you.

It was getting to be too much, your airway being cut off and the feeling of his fingers squeezing against your skin starting to cause pain. “Yellow,” you rasped, grabbing his arm to try to get him to back off. The pressure on your throat immediately faded and Nolan tore his hand away, his movements stilling as he met your eyes.

“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek with one hand as he held himself up with the other. “Shit. I’m so sorry. You okay?” he questioned again.

You nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I’m okay,” you assured. “Keep going, please?”

Nolan kissed your forehead gently, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Are you sure? We can stop, baby, it’s okay.”

“I know. I want to. Want you to cum with me, okay?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Okay,” he nodded, his hips snapping to meet yours again. He leaned down, kissing your jaw. It was slow, no longer rough but still hard enough to bring you both to the edge and falling over it, cumming together. It was closer to making love than letting him fuck his anger out with you. Nolan spoke a few apologies in your ear, you assuring him again that you were okay as you carded your fingers through his hair and you both fell out of your roles.

You were still hurting though and Nolan could tell. He carefully lifted you from the bed, carrying you down to his bathroom and starting a hot bath. He helped you get cleaned up, trying not to stare at the redness that was present on your neck.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said once more and you frowned, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss him.

“I’m okay, Nols. Are you?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I feel better. Thank you.” He kissed your forehead, dipping his hand into the water and gently splashing it onto your back. “I love you. I needed that.”

“I know you did,” you giggled.

“You promise you’re okay?”

“Tired. But you didn’t hurt me, I promise I’m fine.”

He nodded again, finally taking your word. “Ready for bed?”

“Carry me?” you asked, lifting your arms up to him which made him chuckle. He helped you out of the bath, wrapping a towel around you as he sat you on the counter. He dried you off, being extra careful when it came to your hips and your neck, gently patting those areas dry.

You fell asleep quickly, underneath the warm sheets, and curled up against Nolan’s torso, your head on his chest with his fingers gently rubbing your back, the sound of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby in your ear.

Nolan’s stomach sank the next morning. He woke up before you did, his smile wide when you were still in the same position you had fallen asleep in, but his eyes drifted to your neck; the red spot that was there last night had now turned into a reddish-purple bruise and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He had done that to you. He hurt you.

He felt like he was going to throw up as panic set in, wondering how on earth he was going to make it up to you, how he was going to prove that he never meant to hurt you and that he would never hurt you. It was one thing for you to have bruises on your hips or thighs, but this was your neck, a place that everybody was going to see and those bruises were there because he got too carried away last night.

He slipped out of bed quietly, thankful that his movements hadn’t woken you up. It was still early and he knew you needed the sleep. It wasn’t worth it to wake you up, so instead, he left a note on the nightstand, dressing comfortably before leaving his apartment, skipping breakfast entirely as he drove to the nearest drugstore.

Nolan got a few stares as he stood in the makeup section, reading off labels and trying to decide which brand was the best brand when to him they all looked the same. He’d watched you do your makeup hundreds of times but none of this stuff looked like the same things you had.

Nolan settled on two different types of foundations that were two different brands, three concealers, a container of setting powder and a foundation that was in powder form and not liquid form like the other two. He also found a color correcting concealer, throwing that into his basket as well.

He chose to go through the self-checkout lane, still panicky from this morning and wanting to avoid any looks from one of the checkout ladies. They were older and he was sure they didn’t know who he was, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself in case they did know.

He really hoped to still find you asleep when he got home, but when the smell of coffee filled his nose as he stepped into the apartment, he knew you were awake and moving. “Baby?” he called, footsteps soft on the wood floor, the plastic bag rustling as he walked.

He found you in the bathroom wearing one of his shirts, stood in front of the mirror. He frowned, a sigh escaping his lips. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I would never hurt you.”

“I know, Nolan. You didn’t hurt me.”

“But, I did. Fuck. You-You had to tell me to slow down, you’ve never had to do that before,” he worried, setting the bag on the bathroom counter.

“But you didn’t hurt me,” you reassured, resting your hands against his chest. “You backed off when I told you to. And you made sure that I was okay. If you had done something seriously wrong, you know I’d tell you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I love you so much and I didn’t mean to take it that far last night. Just with everything going on and I kept it all bottled up, I-I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, love. But I’m okay. Promise.” You kissed his cheek softly, letting him pull you into a tight hug and hold you for a little while. “What’s in the bag?” you spoke up, turning your head to look at him.

Nolan chuckled, pulling out the different makeup items he had bought. “Just in case you needed something to cover it up with. I didn’t really know what to get, so I got a few different brands and different types of products, hopefully, it works.”

You laughed, kissing him quickly. “Thank you, baby.”

“I can make breakfast. Any requests?”

You hummed, “Pancakes?”

“Comin’ right up.”

“Can we have breakfast in bed?”

“Of course. You finish up what you need to do in here and I will be right up with pancakes.” Nolan pulled you into another hug, resting his cheek on your shoulder, his lips gliding along your neck and jaw, making you giggle at the soft and tickling feeling.

“Hey Nol!” you called after him as he left, peeking your head out the bathroom door and catching him before he made it to the kitchen.

Nolan turned to you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His smile widened. “I love you too.”

Tags: @merchantjjreply @blueeyedbesson @obxmxybxnk @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @brebear121 @stars-canucks @sidscrosbyy

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick smut #nolan patrick fic #hockey #hockey fic #hockey smut #nhl #nhl fic #nhl smut #nolan patrick fluff #hockey fluff #nhl fluff #jj

471 notes · View notes

peepeepotter · 4 years

Text

Hogwarts: New Girl AU

A/N: Warning, some canonical changes were made for plot reasons, the biggest being: Harry and Ginny never dated; Harry, Neville, and Draco are all professors; George has a new WWW store in Hogsmeade. Also, she starts off living with the four guys whereas in New Girl she only lived with all four for about a season. I just thought it would be fun!! Also, when I wrote this it felt a lot longer than it ended up being—so let me know if this is too long or too short or just right!! P.S.: I do NOT condone transphobia (I’m LGBT and will defend trans people until the day I die) and obviously I feel JKR is a shitty person, I write because I like writing and we’ll all agree that 5 year old Daniel Radcliffe wrote the HP series :)

Chapter 1: Who’s That Girl?

Pairing: George x Female Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Words: 3k

Series Masterlist

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like "Oh my god, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark", and you're like "What is your problem? Call the aurors!", and she's like "Okay" but it's too late because she's already getting avada kedavra’d. Well, my story's kind of like that.” y/n said, remembering the borderline traumatic moment that happened two weeks ago.

Y/N sat in the back of a muggle taxi, on her way to her shared apartment with her boyfriend Cormac McLaggen. Only, incredibly uncomfortably, she was completely naked under a trench coat.

“It’s a surprise for Cormac. I’m just gonna walk in and drop my coat, like BAM. There it all is. He said he has this fantasy that I’m a veela with a heart of gold.” Y/N attempted to whisper into the phone speaker.

“You added the ‘heart of gold’ thing, didn’t you?” Ginny asked, chuckling and knowing full well that McLaggen wasn’t exactly a thoughtful person, and wouldn’t have included that in a sexual fantasy.

“Yeah. I wanted to really get into the character, you know?” Y/N tried to get into the fantasy more, hoping it would make her less uncomfortable.

“Oh really? What’s your veela name?”

“Uh...Fleur?”

“That ones taken, Y/N.”

“Whatever, I don’t need a veela name.”

“Either way, I’m so proud of you for getting out of your comfort zone! Good luck babe.” Ginny encouraged.

As Y/N walked into the apartment, she was trying to position herself sexily in the living room. She laid on her side on the couch. Too cliché. She propped herself on the back of the couch. Too masculine. Eventually Cormac entered the living room from the bedroom wearing only his boxers, making Y/N panic about the fantasy.

“Y/N! You’re back early! I wasn’t expecting you—“

Y/N dropped the trench coat. Immediately after a girl, Pansy Parkinson she recognized, followed McLaggen out of the bedroom. Their bedroom. And she was only wearing her underwear.

“Oh.”

“So that’s what happened and why I really need a new place to live. Anyway...what was the question?” Y/N smiled at the four men in front of her. They all looked traumatized by her story.

“Um, do you have any pets?” George asked.

“Oh, no I don’t. Sorry,” She chuckled awkwardly.

“You know what’s funny? When I saw your ad on DumbledoresList I thought you were women.” Y/N laughed. “Crazy, right?”

“Hold up, why would you think that?” Draco spoke before the other two could.

“Just some of the vocabulary used. Like sun-soaked and exposed brick daydream.”

“Draco you wrote exposed brick daydream? Oh my god,” George was nearly in tears with laughter, Harry and Neville following quickly. “Jar, right now, dude.”

“Yeah, jar, seriously. Five galleons.” Harry agreed, pointing to a jar on the mantle of he fireplace with a neon green post-it note labeled “Prick Jar.”

Draco rolled his eyes, getting up and putting the galleons in the jar.

Y/N coughed, trying to refocus the attention. “Look, I really like this apartment. I also really don’t want to live with my friend anymore. She’s a quidditch player...all her friends and roommates are quidditch players. They get into some real weird shit.” Y/N felt like she was pleading with them. Just let me stay here!

“Look I still don’t feel like we know enough—” George was interrupted by Draco.

“Oh, quidditch players? When can you move in?” Y/N grinned, hoping the promise of these three men meeting hot quidditch players would help.

“No, no, loft meeting. Bathroom.” Harry ordered, leading the way down the long hall to the bathroom at the end. When Y/N heard the door shut she quickly and silently followed, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Come ON guys, she’s friends with quidditch players. Next to veela’s and the girls at Beauxbaton, that’s like the hottest girls in existence.” Draco begged the other two.

“The fact that you’re a professor now and you said that is like...incredibly disturbing.” Harry glared at Draco, George and Neville shaking their heads.

“Yeah, and my sister is a quidditch player so I don’t know about that.” George shuddered.

“I’m not going to lie to you guys, I don’t want a girl living here. Sometimes, I get home from a long day of teaching and I just want to strip and lay on the couch. Let the boys chill.” Harry casually shared. Y/N gagged at the thought, but the other three men in the bathroom made noises of agreement, or at least understandment of his statement.

“I am...actually neutral on this one.” Neville shrugged, causing Draco to scoff.

“You would be neutral on this.” Draco rolled his eyes, but directed his attention toward their fourth roommate. “Alright George, tie-breaker. It’s up to you. Is she in or out?”

“You guys know I don’t do well under pressure like this. Just give me a minute let me think.”

Both Harry and Draco started arguing with each other, putting George under more pressure to make a decision. He slowly backed himself into the stall in the bathroom and locked it. Neville watched everything play out, arms crossed with a smile on his face.

“Oh, now look what you’ve done!” Draco said, gesturing to the hiding George.

“What I’ve done! You started it—” Harry replied.

“Whatever, executive decision—she’s in.” Draco announced.

“YAY! I’m in!” Y/N exclaimed, not able to contain her excitement on the other side of the bathroom door. Draco opened the bathroom door.

“Nobody decided putting a silencing charm on the door would be a good idea?” Harry asked the boys in the bathroom.

“Oh you guys have a stall and urinals? Like a public bathroom? Okay, yeah I guess I can get used to that.” Y/N said, looking around the bathroom that reminded her a little too much of the bathrooms at Hogwarts.

“What do you do for a living anyway? Why do you want to live out here in Hogsmeade?” Draco asked as the group of five made their way back to the living room.

“I just became a professor at Hogwarts! I spent a really long time in both the muggle world and the magical world studying creatures. So, I’m taking over for Hagrid.” Y/N smiled, very excited to be doing her two favorite things in the world: working with animals, and teaching bright young minds.

“Oh, Harry, Neville and I are professors at Hogwarts too. I teach potions, Neville teaches herbology, and Harry teaches...Harry what fucking subject do you teach?” Draco crooked an eyebrow at Harry, purposely acting like he didn’t know what Harry taught.

“Defense against the dark arts.” Harry glared at Draco. “And George here just opened a new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shop in Hogsmeade.” Harry said, clapping George’s back. George sheepishly smiled at Y/N.

“Oh that’s awesome! I loved pranks at Ilvermorny. Cormac hated pranks.” Y/N started to tear up, staring off into space.

“George gets it, he was dumped, too.” Draco took his turn to clap his hand on George’s back this time.

“Yeah. Dumped,” George scoffed.

“George I just can’t do this anymore!” Angelina pleaded with George as he covered his ears, despite only the one really working.

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU! WE CAN’T BREAK UP IF I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” George yelled.

“Yeah, I was dumped.” George shrugged. “What about it? It was like eight months ago Draco! Move past it. Pfft, dumped.” George got very heated over...seemingly very little, Y/N noticed.

“Ignore him, he’s still fragile. Which, you aren’t too fragile, right?” Draco asked.

“Pfft. I’m so tough. Don’t even worry about it.”

“We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night. … And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of.” Y/N was screaming the words of the monologue from Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca at the television, the four men staring at her from the kitchen.

“Feel like we’ve made a mistake yet?” Harry asked Draco, who rolled his eyes and approached Y/N.

“Y/N, stop.” Draco turned the television off. “C’mon, you can’t be like this! You’re a strong woman! Strong women don’t cry over men who clearly didn’t deserve them in the first place! Strong women go out and hook up with strangers in the bar in Hogsmeade to get over their ain’t-shit exes.” Draco pulled Y/N up from off the couch. “Go take a shower. We’re going to the Three Broomsticks tonight and you’re hooking up with someone.” Draco pushed her in the direction of the bathroom.

“And that gentleman is how you take care of a crying woman. Not that any of you know how to handle women at all.” Draco snipped at the three men, who—to be fair—did not know how to deal with women at all.

At the Three Broomsticks, the four men watched Y/N absolutely fail at flirting with any even remotely viable man in the bar. Eventually Draco called her back over to the booth where the four men drank and talked about their days.

“Honey, you’ve got to stop doing whatever it is you were doing out there. In fact, you’re going to stop doing anything. You are going to go sit at the bar and look pretty until a man approaches you, and then you are going to smile and nod and agree to go out with him.” Draco nagged. The three other men were chuckling quietly as Y/N trudged to the bar, hoping for men to approach her.

“Anyway, what is this shit we’re chaperoning on Friday night?” Draco turned to Neville and Harry, hoping one of the two would know.

“I think it’s a school dance but like...not fun for the kids at all. Like I don’t think there’s actually any dancing at all.” Harry summed, confused as well. None of them had ever been to muggle high school, and did not understand what a “homecoming” dance was. The Muggle Studies professor suggested it might be fun for the first Friday back to school, and McGonagall agreed as long as the kids didn’t have too much contact on the dance floor. The Muggle Studies teacher explained to the three men that it was “middle school rules, no touching below the shoulders, room for Merlin in the middle.” if dancing were to be allowed. Neville, Harry, and Draco were clueless as to what that meant.

“Glad I won’t be in on that shit show.” George laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“We actually signed you up.” Draco said nonchalantly, drinking his beer. George spat his beer out violently.

“Excuse me? I have to spend my Friday night watching a bunch of kids...do what? Drink butterbeer and sit on opposite ends of a room?!” George was clearly pissed off, wanting to have done literally anything else with his Friday night.

“I mean, you’ll see your brother.” Harry offered, which actually eased George’s tensions a bit. He smiled, missing his family.

“Oh, alright. Harry, you charmer, you always know how to get me.” George winked at Harry who waved him off.

“How are things going with you and uh...Loony?” Draco asked Neville. The three other men rolled their eyes, annoyed at how Draco still seemed to live in his own little world.

“Luna. And things are going...they’re going.” Neville shrugged, clueless to his own love life.

“Just as expected, he doesn’t know anything.” Draco shook his head at George and Harry, as if Neville’s cluelessness was their fault.

“Are you blaming—” Before Harry could finish accusing Draco of exactly what Draco was doing, Y/N came back from the bar, squealing about getting a date.

“What did you do?” Draco asked, smirking, just knowing he was right.

“I did what you said! I just smiled and nodded and said I wanted to hookup and he gave me his number and now we’re going out Friday night!” Y/N jumped up and down in tiny jumps, starting to fist-pump.

“This American is so weird sometimes.” Harry whispered.

“It’s endearing, I think.” Neville commented.

“Naive, maybe.” George rolled his eyes, the only one who seemed to notice that she blatantly told the man she would have sex with him.

When the night of her date rolled around, the four men found themselves with an unexpected floo guest.

“Ginny, what are you doing—” George stood.

“Who told her it was a good idea to get back out there again? That’s not your job, that’s my job. I’m her best friend, you guys are just some weird adult men living together. No offense brother, dear.” Ginny was in the living room, pointing an accusing finger at the men sat on the couch while Y/N was in her bedroom getting ready. Ginny was clearly ready to go out clubbing for the night, and was dressed in a short dress and very tall heels.

“None taken.” George rolled his eyes, plopping himself back on the couch.

“Now I’m going to go handle the mess you all created, thank you very much.” Ginny glared, walking over to Y/N’s room and walking in.

Y/N laid on the ground surrounded by clothes. Her hair and makeup was clearly done, but she seemed stumped on what to wear. She was currently wearing a witch hat, a crop top, sweatpants, and cowgirl boots.

“Y/N,” Ginny sighed. “What were you going for with this?” Ginny gestured up and down Y/N’s body.

“Witchy space cowgirl.” Y/N shrugged. “It seems like something you’d find in a porn anyway—”

“Here, let’s find you clothes that will actually get you laid.”

After about half an hour, Ginny emerged from Y/N’s room first, dressed in a crop top and sweatpants.

“Now presenting, the new but not improved, still absolutely perfect Y/N.” Ginny gestured towards Y/N’s bedroom, where Y/N emerged. She was wearing the short black sleeveless dress and tall heels Ginny had been wearing when she emerged from the floo. Draco let out a whistle, Harry and Neville started clapping, and George was sat, stunned. Well, until Y/N started fist pumping again, then they all started booing her.

“Don’t let me keep you guys, I know you have plans with a bunch of 11 to 17 year olds tonight.” Y/N giggled, watching as the men stood up at the reminder.

“Don’t worry, we’d rather be anywhere else. Even here watching your weird dancing.” Draco puffed, the other men agreeing.

“So yeah, that’s how we got a new roommate.” George explained to Fred, who’s hazy, ghostly form nodded.

“Believe it or not, I actually know her. I was her first friend here.” Fred grinned, pointing to himself. George wasn’t surprised. Ever since Fred died and became a ghost, Fred frequently felt lonely, and George knew that. Besides Peeves, he really didn’t have many friends. He couldn’t interrupt teachers while they were teaching, but since Care for Magical Creatures was not a required class, Y/N had a lot of free time. They bonded over pranks, baked goods, and George. “She’s so cute! You totally would’ve dated her a decade ago.” Fred teased his younger twin.

“Yeah, well, things change I guess.” George felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and looked at the caller ID to find it as Madam Puddifoot’s store number. “One second.” He told his brother. “Madam Puddifoot?” George asked.

“George dearie, your friend Y/N here was stood up by her date. I figured someone should know, she’s in my shop crying and I have to close in,” she paused, clearly checking the time. “In a half hour. Do you think you could help?” George stood, already walking towards the school’s exit.

“Oh hello there.” Y/N sniffled, eyes red and puffy as she looked up to see George taking a seat in front of her. “Don’t you have a school dance you’re supposed to be chaperoning.” She furrowed her eyebrows, pointing a finger at him. She meant for it to be accusatory, but with red puffy eyes, George mostly found it (as Neville said) endearing.

“Some things are more important than watching boys and girls stand on opposite ends of a room.” He shrugged, reaching across the table and grabbing his friends hand. “Listen, real men don’t treat women the way you’ve been treated the past few weeks. I’m sorry you’re going through this. If it makes you feel better, sometimes I still call my ex and leave voicemails in a country accent.” George offered, making Y/N giggled, wiping lone tears.

“Well, you can always call me and talk to me in a country accent instead.” She shrugged, in an attempt to help him the way he’s come to help her. “Do you want to go home and watch—”

“Literally anything other than Casablanca, okay? I will watch whatever sad chick flick you want, but you have watched Casablanca like twenty times this week.” George puffed, standing up and reaching his hand out for Y/N. “Let’s go home and get drunk and cry.” He smiled. Y/N grinned, grabbing his hand and letting him walk her out of the shop. She was still embarrassed, but her heart felt a lot better knowing someone came to help her out of this feeling. She’d never admit it to George, but it was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

When Draco, Neville, and Harry returned home, their suit jackets thrown over their shoulders and looking rather tired from dealing with teenagers all night, they found quite the sight for their sore eyes. George and Y/N were stood in front of the TV, clearly drunk, singing along to Heath Ledger’s character serenading Julia Stiles character in 10 Things I Hate About You. Draco, Neville, and Harry all looked at each other, shrugging. They dropped their suit coats and joined in, feeding the fire that was drunken George and Y/N.

And that was the end to Y/N’s first week in the loft above the Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes store in Hogsmeade.

Taglist: @yllwtaxi @ememseay

Thank you for wanting to be tagged!! Let me know what you think, feel free to message me any mistakes I missed. If you want to be tagged, message me/comment!! Thanks y’all :)

383 notes · View notes

brelione · 4 years

Text

The Best Boys (Topper,Rafe and Kelce X Reader)

I was thinking that if you add a girl to the mix Rafe,Kelce and Topper are like the pogues....kind of.I kind of just did a flip of things,you know?

Warnings:Mentions of binge eating,anorexia,bulimia.If youre triggered by these topics please do not read.Im not trying to romanticize eating disorders at all,this is just my way of coping with things.

Series Masterlist

“You hate horror movies but you’ll watch a show about the fbi?”Topper asked,opening a bag of potato chips.You frowned,sending a glare his way as you pulled your blanket up your body.Rafe chuckled at your sad expression,his arm wrapping around you and pulling you to his side.You pressed the watch button for season one episode one because the boys had never seen criminal minds before.You had watched the series twice already but another time wouldn't hurt anybody.Plus,it was your turn to pick the show of the weekend.Kelce came out of you bathroom,laying on your carpeted floor and grabbing the bowl of m and m’s from the living room table.

You had met Rafe in fourth grade,asking him why his hair was slimy.From then on you two had been close friends.You had met Topper through Rafe because Topper was in the golfing team with Rafe.The blonde boy sat at your lunch table after that,dragging along his friend,Kelce.All of them had a thing for you but you didn't know it.In their eyes you acted more pogue than kook.You were barely even a kook,closer to average than rich.You preferred beaded chokers and bracelets over gold and diamonds,converse over heels and bandanas over nicely made hair pieces.You were a lot like Kiara in those ways except you weren't really friends with pogues.

You knew a handful of them and shared friendly glances and small conversation when you saw them around but you weren't close to them like she was.You took better to the kooks,well,some kooks.If you hadnt met Rafe when you were children you would never even speak to him now.The three of them were anything but humble,always showing off their wealth in clothes and expensive cars.They started fights with pogues and gave them dirty looks,never even considering talking to them.They’d behave for you though.

They’d pretty much do anything for you.Rafe wouldn't do drugs in your home or anywhere around you,Kelce wouldn't cuss at all and Topper wouldnt drink.You four had weekends at your house when your mother left to go to New York to ruin peoples lives and make money.You would all stay in your house to binge watch a series and eat pure sugar and carbs.You had slowly started to get back into the snacking after refusing it for over a year.You had gone through a large patch of pure shit during sophomore year.You began binge eating only to end up barely eating at all.Topper had noticed the jurassic change in your clothing,the clothes becoming baggier and your body becoming larger.

It wasn't your weight gain that had concerned him,it was the fact that your glow was gone.You would barely talk in the group chat where you had previously typed endlessly to tell them the morning news and ask how their days had been.You would be hesitant to eat your lunch,eating it all to quickly and then stare down at your empty tray.He had been hanging out with you at your house when your mother had left for a sudden business trip and you didn't want to be home alone.He opened your fridge for a soda,seeing most of the food was missing.

The jar of hot fudge had been pretty much scraped for any sticky chocolate left,all the yogurts had been eaten and even the bowl of tomatoes from your garden that had always been there.You didn't even like tomatoes.He looked in your trash can to see that it was half full of empty containers,wrappers and empty bags of chocolate chips.His eyebrows furrowed,walking into the living room where you were sitting on the couch.

“Hey,are you okay?”He had asked.Three months later you had dropped the weight,becoming smaller than you had been before.You hadnt gotten your glow back,if anything you got worse.Your hair was thinner and you barely smiled,trying to shut your friends out.Rafe had come to understand what was happening,trying to find out what was wrong with you. “Hey,chip,are you sick?”He asked,using your nickname.You sipped your tea,frowning in disgust of the taste. “No.”You answered.He came around the counter,placing his hands on either side of you and trapping you there.

“Did something bad happen?”He asked.You glared up at the blue eyed boy,shaking your head.He sighed,shaking his head. “I think you have a problem.”He told you,touching your arm lightly.Your heart dropped,realising what he was getting at.You had spent nights crying,looking at yourself in the mirror and stepping on the scale at least three times a day.You knew that you had a problem but you would rather drop dead than actually admit it to someone.Much less one of your best friends.You shook your head. “No,no I dont.Im fine.”You grinned but there was no happiness there.He shook his head,making you look up at him.

“You’re hurting yourself,(Y/N).You are sick you just cant admit it to yourself.Do you understand?”He asked.Tears pricked at your eyes,sniffling as you avoided his gaze.He didn't say anything more,wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed into his chest and kept apologizing.

You had tried getting better.You tried for your friends,knowing you were hurting them.You couldn't tell your mom or go to a doctor.You wouldn't let anyone else find out.You knew for a fact that Rafe had told Topper and Kelce about his concerns already.Kelce would face time you before bed,asking you what you had eaten that day.Something about telling them that you hadnt eaten made you happy.Something about the number going down and the feeling of hunger in your stomach brought you joy.Your clothes that had once been tight now hung from your body and even your bracelets were too loose for your wrists.You were not happy though.You wanted to be smaller.

You wanted to be so small that you were nothing,that you couldn't stand properly and that you could see all your bones.But in your mind not even that would make you skinny enough.It wasn't until Kelce’s 16th birthday that you realized just how bad you had become.You four had a birthday system.You’d all do a little get together at the birthday boy’s house to have cake and give gifts and usually the week after would be the big party.You had gone to Kelce’s,heart beating quickly and your hands becoming shaky as you thought about how much food you’d have to eat.You opened his front door,his gift in a neon pink paper bag by your side.You closed the door behind you,hearing the boys from the kitchen.

“Wow,you were really late to my birthday.”Kelce grinned,pulling you into a hug.You laughed,hugging the boy back. “Sorry,had to wrap this bitch up.”You held up the bag.He kissed the top of your head lightly,letting you put the bag down and greet your other two friends.When you went into the kitchen Kelce began slicing the chocolate cake,putting it onto plates.He had never been a fan of the candle tradition after Topper nearly caught his hair on fire.He put a particularly large slice on your plate,pushing it towards you.The boys were sitting around the table,sending you glances to watch if you were eating.They gave you a big slice.They were trying to sabotage you.They were trying to make you gain weight.

They were trying to ruin any progress you had made.How could they?You stared down at the plate in frustration,feeling Rafe’s hand on your knee.You got up,your chair falling to the ground as you went to the bathroom quickly,locking the door and kneeling in front of the toilet.Kelce had quickly followed,standing outside the door and calling your name.You stuck fingers down your throat desperately,trying to get something to come up just to make you feel better.Your other hand clenched the toilet seat,sniffling as a bad taste filled your mouth before brown liquid spilled past your tongue and lips.

You gasped for air before reaching the fingers back,knowing you had more than that in you.The door opened quickly thanks to Rafe sticking a screwdriver in the keyhole,seeing you with your fingers down your throat and spit running down your chin.He ran across the tile,pulling your hand from your mouth and holding you close.You squirmed,scared out of your mind.What would they think of you now? “I’ve got you,(Y/N).I've got you…”Rafe whispered to you,running a hand through your hair.Kelce had kneeled down in front of you,taking a towel to wipe vomit from your face. “You’ll get better,princess.”He promised.He had kept the promise,helping you along the way.Topper had gotten you to eat little things at first.

He had taken away your scale,having Kelce destroy it with a hammer.He had made meal plans,telling you exactly how many calories you’d be eating and trying to figure out which foods caused your urges to binge or purge.Rafe had bought you some new clothes that looked nice on you to help with your body image issues,trying his best to make you feel more comfortable in your own skin.Kelce had taken in the job of prep talking,getting you to shower properly and take vitamins everyday.He never failed to tell you how proud he was of you and how great you were doing,how happy you were making him by taking vitamins and eating.Over the course of three years you had gotten better.

There was still that little voice in the back of your head but physically you had healed quite well.Your hair had grown back,you weren't so cold all the time and you weren't so dizzy.Sometimes you felt guilty after eating a meal but the boys were always there to tell you how perfect you were and how wonderful you looked now that you were at a healthy weight.They had been so happy when you joined them in eating candy and french fries during the weekend binge watches.You had finally convinced them to watch your favorite show with you.Criminal minds.You giggled to yourself,shushing them of their silence.Kelce looked up at you with furrowed eyebrows,declaring that he hadnt said anything.

“Shut up,Kelce!My husbands about to be on!”You shouted,pointing back at the television.Topper’s eyebrows furrowed as you stood up on your couch and out of Rafe’s grip,jumping up and down and squealing. “LOOK AT HIM!”You exclaimed,pointing to the awkward spaghetti noodle that was Spencer Reid.Topper burst into laughter while Rafe frowned. “Thats him?Really?”He seemed unimpressed.You had talked about your husband,Spencer Reid,for the past three years.But this dude wasn't what Rafe had been expecting.

“HEY!THATS THE GUY FROM Z NATION!”Kelce pointed at the guy who had played Citizen Z,the antagonist of this episode.You sat back down,getting comfortable in Rafe’s arms and eating a handful of skittles. “He’s an actor,Kelce.”You rolled your eyes.Somewhere between episode three and four you had fallen asleep against Rafe’s chest.Kelce had sat on the arm of the couch,too afraid to sit on the floor.When you woke up in the morning Rafe’s arms hadnt shifted,still around your waist tight.Topper’s head had somehow ended up on your ass,his arms wrapped around your thighs as if they were a comfy pillow.Kelce had fallen asleep curled in a ball in the corner of the couch,a pillow between his arms.

You drifted back asleep after turning off the tv,readjusting yourself on Rafe’s chest.In your empty sleep you had felt the warm weight of Topper leave your bottom torso only to be replaced by a blanket.Your arms tightened around something that wasnt Rafe but instead a cold pillow.You sniffed the air,the smell of salt and coffee filling your nostrils.You blinked a couple of times,sitting up properly.The tv was playing this morning’s episodes of Spongebob Squarepants.You stood up slowly,yawning and stumbling to the kitchen.

The boys were cooking up a feast,preparing for day two of binge watching.Kelce grinned at you,setting down a coffee creation.Hot fudge,werthers caramel candies,half whole milk and half italian brew coffee all put together with ice and a bendy straw.You thanked your friend,sipping the drink tiredly.Rafe grinned,placing the (Y/F/C) plate of eggs the way you liked them cooked,ham and toast. “Morning,chip.”he smiled,kissing your forehead lightly.

You thanked him,only half awake as you cut up the ham. “Why Spencer?”Topper asked,taking in a large gulp of orange juice.You shrugged,a smile on your face as you took a bit of ham and eggs. “He’s adorable and hes smart and he’s funny.What’s there not to like?”You asked.Kelce laughed. “The man is a spaghetti noodle.Don't you want someone like Derek?”He asked.You shook your head,biting your toast. “Can we talk later?I don't want my toast to untoast.”You told him,enjoying the sound of the crunch.Kelce grinned,sipping his hot fudge,heavy cream coffee shake. “Of course,of course.God forbid the toast untoast.”He smiled.

“So what do you guys think of the show so far?”You asked curiously.Criminal Minds had always been your favorite show.Rafe had called you once while you were rewatching it and you had scolded him for twenty minutes because you swore to god that you had texted the group chat no to bother you.What Rafe didnt realise was that the show was literally about the minds of criminals.He realised that that’s probably where you learned how to read people so well and how you always knew when someone was sad.It also made him worry that maybe you knew about his crush on you if he hadnt made it obvious enough.He felt jealousy deep in his soul at the way you spoke so fondly of Spencer Reid,the way you’d smile and your eyes would twinkle when ever the man came on screen.You could only hope that one day you’d look at him with the same love in your eyes.

You brought your coffee into the living room,turning netflix back on.Rafe was typing away at his phone,earning a small smack on the arm. “Rafe,I didn't do this to you when we watched Ever After High.”You pouted.He smiled,showing you what he was looking for.He was on tiktok,hunting for Spencer Reid edits for you to enjoy.You kissed the boy’s cheek,letting him know you had already seen them all.You sat back to enjoy another episode of Criminal Minds,stabbing at the candy in the bottom of your cup.

“Am I the only one uncomfortable about JJ?”Kelce asked,pointing to the blonde woman.You giggled,watching as Topper nodded. “They’re both blonde with blue eyes too,it only gets creepier.”He shook his head.You turned to look at him,a big shit eating grin on your face. “Bottom,sweetie,you're blonde with blue eyes too.”You reminded him,ruffling his blonde locks.He rolled his eyes at the sound of your teasing nickname that he had gotten after you walked in on one of his hookups.

It was ironic that he had been given the name Topper seeing as though he was the most bottom a bottom could be.He wasnt even a power bottom,just a squishy marshmallow bottom.He didnt give off bottom energy but with a name like that it was pretty much challenging fate.

He had been embarrassed,never wanting you to see him with another girl.In his god complex mind he was convinced every girl loved him,including you.Either that or he just wanted you to love him.In his mental defense he had imagined that she was you.He mentally cursed,wondering if he had made your insecurities worse.If anything it made you happier now that you had a new thing to tease him with,being able to throw out your old line that teased him about dying his hair green in seventh grade.He really just wanted someone to love him.He really just wanted you to love him in a different way than you did.

It didn't matter though,you were happy with the platonic relationship and he couldn't ruin that.He could never go after you anyways,though.Kelce liked you so he would be breaking bro code and unfortunately Kelce couldn't do anything because he knew that Rafe liked you and Rafe couldn't do anything because Topper liked you.It all sucked but in the end you could do whatever you wanted.You hadnt made a move on any of them which meant you didn't want any of them.But they were okay with that,they still got to be your best boys.

If you’d like to be tagged in all future JJ imagines/headcannons/series comment with a heart,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Pope imagines/headcannons/series comment with a smiling face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Rafe imagines/headcannons/series comment with a frowning face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Kiara imagines/headcannons/series comment with a question mark and if you’d like to be tagged in all future Sarah Cameron imagines/headcannons/series comment with a plus sign.Or if thats too complicated you can just comment whose name you’d like to be tagged in.

@popcrone818

601 notes · View notes

ramen-rambles · 4 years

Text

Study Session

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader x Kirishima Eijirou

Warnings: 18+, threesome, pillow humping, double penetration

Word Count: 4.0K

Summary: You need help studying and Bakugou and Kirishima were having a study session in their dorms. However, upon entering, you see that they’re up to something else.

A/N: First real post on here! Just pure filth. I did this instead of working on my essay. Also, I have no idea why this turned out to be so fucking long. Anyways, enjoy?

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

Finals season was fast approaching UA. Given that you were in your third year of university, you couldn’t really afford to fuck up. That being said, you had been studying all day in the library with Bakugou and Kirishima. Most of the time, you were off doing your own thing but Bakugou kept on getting frustrated at Kirishima’s incompetence and lack of understanding. Their constant bickering made it impossible to focus so you started gathering your things, wanting nothing more than the peace and quiet of your dorm.

“H-hey! Where are you going? I thought we were supposed to be studying together…” Kirishima said with a pout on his face.

“Well, I tried. But with you and Anger Issues over there never shutting up, I can’t fucking focus on anything else.”

Your tone sounded harsher than normal and Kirishima couldn’t help but notice. Bakugou’s words didn’t make the situation any better either.

“If you fucking fail the final next week, don’t come crying to me, you fucking dumbass.”

You were going to come up with some snarky response to counter him but Kirishima ended up easing the tension instead.

“Um, okay then, but just make sure you actually study! But if you still don’t get it, Bakugou and I are going to probably pull an all nighter tonight or something in my dorm. I still seriously don’t get anything and I don’t think I have any other option except to cram.” He said, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“Whatever. You better not fucking fail either, Shitty Hair.” huffed Bakugou with a light smack to Kirishima’s head.

“Alright, well you two have fun. I actually think I get it a little so I’ll just do some practice tests or something. But thanks for inviting me anyways! Good luck.”

While you weren’t particularly worried, you couldn’t deny the fact that math had always been your weakest subject. The night had dragged on and it’s been hours since you made it up to your room. You were breezing through the notes and you felt confident enough to do a practice quiz.

However, with the problems set in front of you, you realized that you, in fact, knew nothing.

“Man, what the fuck? This shit doesn’t make any fucking sense! This literally can’t even be the same fucking thing.” You cursed to yourself. You started losing hope, but then, you suddenly remembered what Kirishima had said to you earlier that day. Glancing at the clock, “Fuck, it’s like 3am already. Goddamn. I mean… They did say they’re pulling an all nighter, right?” You muttered in defeat.

Feeling frustrated and without many options left, you decided to take up the redhead’s offer and started making your way up to the fourth floor.

“It is kind of late, I hope they’re still awake...“ You thought to yourself.

Walking down the hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a particularly loud moan come through Kirishima’s door.

Did you hear that right? Did your ears deceive you? What was going on in there?

Confused, you pressed your ear against his door and sure enough, there was that sinful moan again.

Your thoughts started to wander and you leaned in closer, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together at the lewd noises coming from the other side of the door.

“F-fuck Eiji. Just get on with it already!” Bakugou cried, voice dripping with need.

“You like that, baby? Tell me all the naughty things you want me to do to you, Katsuki.” Kirishima breathed out through teasing pants.

Initially, like any sane person, your first thought was, “What the actual fuck. Weren’t they supposed to be studying? Why does it sound like a fucking porn video in there?” You felt dirty, to say the least. But you couldn’t deny that you started getting hot and bothered. “No, this is wrong. I shouldn’t be listening to whatever the fuck they’re doing.” You shook your head and snapped yourself back to reality and just as you were about to make a break towards the elevator, you heard that sweet moan again.

Now, you definitely knew you weren’t dreaming.

Face blushing profusely, you felt a familiar heat begin to pool in your stomach as you continued to listen to the sinful sounds coming from the two boys on the other side of the wall. “Oh, fuck it.” You mumbled.

You couldn’t resist yourself from dipping your hands underneath the hem of your shorts as you began rubbing soft circles on your clit, a wet patch slowly forming in the middle of your underwear. Careful not to make a sound, you turned around and slowly slid down to the floor, pressing your knees against your chest, allowing easier access to your soaking wet sex.

“I want you to fuck me, Eiji. Make me feel good. I want you to fucking pound me until I can’t fucking walk anymore. I need you to make me cum.” God, Bakugou sounded so sexy. You could only imagine what he looked like.

What was Kirishima doing to him? Was he sucking his dick? Was he eating his ass? What could Kirishima possibly be doing; that made Bakugou fucking Katsuki moan like a such a horny little bitch?

His submissiveness lit a fire within Kirishima, who merely responded by obviously pleasuring the needy boy, desperate to hear more of his moans “Get on all fours, babe.”

You brought two of your fingers into your mouth and allowed your spit to collect around it before you swiftly moved your panties the side and teased your pussy, dragging your finger along your slit, wincing a bit as you slowly pushed them inside yourself, desperate for some sort of relief. You closed your eyes shut as soft pants escaped your mouth and you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to control your sounds of pleasure. Anyone could have seen you touching yourself to your friends’ moans but you didn’t really care at this point.

You were becoming more and more flustered as you imagined what those two were doing to each other. You trailed your cold hand under your shirt, reaching up to rub your nipple, the difference in temperature only adding more pleasure as you continued pumping your fingers in and out of your needy cunt.

So engrossed with your own dirty thoughts, you failed to realize that the boys could also hear you from the other side of the door. Your fingers curled and brushed against your g-spot, accidentally letting out a loud moan.

Fuck.

Before you could react, the door swung open and you fell onto your back. You looked up and saw a naked Bakugou and a half-naked Kirishima staring down at your body, fingers still knuckle deep in your cunt. After you register what had happened, you immediately pulled out and shoved your shirt down, looking away from the two boys. How embarrassing.

“I-it’s not what you think! I was having a hard time understanding the formulas and I remembered what you said and I just wanted help but then I heard you guys moaning and I couldn’t help but listen in--” Your sorry excuse of an explanation was cut short as Bakugou slammed the door shut behind you while Kirishima crouched down to grab you by the waist and throw you onto the bed, legs spread apart for them to see all your shame.

“You’re such a dirty slut, you know that? Touching yourself while we were about to fuck,” Bakugou looked down at the very visible wet spot on your shorts and scoffed “just look at how fucking wet you are.” He said as his fingers teased around your cunt, collecting your slick between them. The sudden contact causing a jolt of pleasure to run down your spine.

“Damn baby, you’re fucking dripping.” Kirishima groaned at the sight laid before him, palming his erection through his boxers.

Bakugou brought his fingers up to Kirishima’s mouth, who licked them clean. “You taste so fucking good, princess.” He said teasingly.

“Y-you’re one to talk, Bakugou! You sounded so fucking needy!” You weakly retorted, an attempt to salvage the remains of your pride.

Bakugou roughly grabbed Kirishima by the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, wanting to have a taste of your sweetness. You couldn’t deny how hot they looked and your hips bucked up at the sight, to create some much needed friction as you continued to watch them swap spit with each other.

“Says the bitch who was touching herself in the fucking hallway.” Bakugou snapped back. “I bet you wanted us to catch you, didn’t you? Fucking slut. You should be punished, you know.”

“C’mon, Katsuki, no need to be so harsh with her.” Kirishima coaxed. “Look at how desperate she is. She practically came just by hearing how good I made you feel.” Playfully running his hands over Bakugou’s back and down to his ass, giving it a loud slap. He looked down at your flustered state, almost taking pity on how sexually frustrated you were. Keyword; almost.

“But you know what? I think you’re right. Naughty girls have to be disciplined after all.”

And with that, he stripped himself of his boxers, you quickly following suit. Kirishima then grabbed his uniform belt off the floor. “Don’t worry, baby girl. We’ll make you feel good. Just listen to us first, okay? Now, put your hands behind your back.” You sat up on the bed and did as you were told, anticipation clouding your thoughts. He tightened the belt around your wrists, the leather biting into your soft skin. You tugged at the makeshift restraint, trying to loosen it a bit, but the pain you felt quickly morphed into pleasure as you realized how dirty this was all playing out to be, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Now, where were we, Katsuki?” Kirishima taunted with a devilish grin on his face. He roughly pushed Bakugou onto his knees with his ass up in the air, hands spreading his cheeks apart and proceeded to teasingly swipe his tongue over his puckered hole. Bakugou shuddered as Kirishima continued his assault, drool gathering in his mouth and letting it drip down Bakugou’s ass. Kirishima circled his tongue around the rim and slowly pressed in, barely licking inside the tight hole. His hands snaked around Bakugou’s ass and in between his thighs and began stroking Bakugou’s cock, the tip seeping with precum. Bakugou’s hands were fisted in the sheets and his head was buried into the mattress. “F-fuck Eiji! Oh my god, don’t fucking stop.” Bakugou bucked his ass back into Kirishima’s face and that sight alone was to die for.

Unashamedly, you started rubbing your thighs together and lucky for you, you were able to slip one of the pillows in between your legs and began rocking back and forth against it to get some much needed relief. You slowly began grinding on the pillow and continued to hump it as you watched the two boys in front of you get down and dirty. The rough fabric of the pillow was rubbing deliciously against your clit and you only bounced on it with more vigor.

“Look Katsuki-” Bakugou turned his head towards your flustered body and marveled at the fact that you began to resort to such desperate measures in an attempt to get yourself off.

“Fuck! Please touch me… or take the belt off so I can do it myself… just do something already…” The neediness in your voice compelled the two boys to help you out. Kirishima undid the belt and you immediately pulled him into a passionate kiss, quickly thanking him in between breathy moans. Feeling left out, Bakugou made his way up to your lips and tore you away from the redhead, sucking on your tongue and roughly biting anywhere he could reach, leaving dark purple hickeys in his wake. Kirishima began trailing his lips down your shoulder blades, your chest, and stopped at your tits, taking your hard bud into his mouth while his free hand made its way down to your throbbing cunt, burying his digits into your hole while rubbing messy circles into your sensitive clit. “Ah, fuck! Kiri don’t stop, go faster” You pulled away from your heated makeout session to focus on the pleasure that the redhead was giving you, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm you craved so much.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight” He stuffed a third finger into your cunt, pushing them deeper into your hole, nails digging into your slick walls, bending down to replace his thumb with his tongue, loudly sucking on your clit. “I am so, so close” Determined to bring you to an orgasm, Bakugou soon started sucking on your nipples while Kirishima only pumped his fingers in and out of you with more vigor. “Cum for us, baby” The oversensitivity paired with the dirty talk and the attention you were receiving from your top and bottom half caused your cunt to clench around Kirishima’s fingers and send you over the edge. Helping you ride out your orgasm, Kirishima kept grinding his finger against your pussy before slowly pulling out, making you feel empty.

“I want you both in my mouth, please” Wanting to return the favor, you motioned for the two boys to stand up while you sank down to your knees, taking both of their fat cocks in your hands. Spitting on your palms, you quickly pumped their lengths before taking Bakugou into your mouth and sucking down on his cock. “Fuck, you’re so good at sucking cock. You must do this a lot, don’t you? Filthy slut” His words caused your cunt to clench while he fisted your hair and pushed you back on his cock and setting a fast pace, making you gag, only fueling his already inflated ego. All the while, your hand never left Kirishima’s length, who seemed to be growing more impatient as he so desperately wanted to be in the position Bakugou was in. “C’mon princess, it’s my turn now. I want to see those pretty lips of yours around my dick too” He pulled you off the blonde’s length and put his own cock in your mouth. Kirishima’s pace was more gentle but the sheer size of him in your mouth made it difficult to keep up. With you giving Bakugou a handjob and Kirishima face fucking you, it seemed like they were also reaching their end. Giving the same attention to both men, you looked up to see them exchange a knowing glance to one another.

“As much as I want to cum inside that pretty mouth, I’d rather fill up that tight little asshole of yours, sweetheart” Before you could say anything, Kirishima pulled out of your mouth and sank down to pull apart your plush cheeks, making you arch your back in surprise at the suddenness. He began to lick long stripes up and down your pert hole, slowly dipping his nimble fingers inside your tightness, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. On the other hand, Bakugou shoved himself back inside your mouth and continued to maintain his rough pace, not that you were complaining. To try and take some control, you grabbed onto his pale thighs to give yourself a chance to catch your breath. You licked up and down the prominent vein on his cock, paying special attention to his balls, cupping and groping them as his precum and your saliva painted the bottom of your chin. Feeling his hips stutter, you knew he was close. “I’m going to cum all over your pretty fucking face, princess” He held a tighter grip into your hair and just as you were preparing to swallow his hot load, he pulled out and threw a smirk your way. “Fuck this, I’d rather cum inside your tight pussy. We’re going to pound you so hard you won’t be able to breathe without thinking about our cocks inside you” His words sent chills down your spine as you thought about the two boys deliciously hitting all the right spots and filling you to the brim with their cum, branding you as their own personal cocksleeve.

Kirishima moved to stand behind you while Bakugou laid down on the bed and adjusted himself to move towards the edge of the mattress. “Fuck yourself on my cock, you slut, and Eiji’s gonna fuck that fat ass of yours” The redhead went to the bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lube as your fingers went down to fist Bakugou’s erection, positioning your tight hole against the tip of his cock. You were so wet that your cunt was literally drooling, your juices dripping down your plush thighs and onto the base of Bakugou’s pelvis. “Holy fuck, you got that wet just from sucking dick and having your ass ate? You are so fucking filthy” Noticing this, Kirishima decided to ditch the lube and instead, he wrapped his hand around to dip two fingers into your cunt and scoop out your wetness, string it in between his fingers, and spread it all over your asshole. Bakugou let out a breathy laugh and proceeded to grab the sides of your hips to slam you down on his thick fucking cock. You let out a loud moan as you began a sensual pace against his length, grinding down on him and allowing yourself to adjust to his size.

Kirishima’s hands went up to fondle your tits, tugging at your nipples, and placing sloppy kisses against your neck, only adding to the pleasure you felt as Bakugou bottomed inside of you.

“Holy fuuuck. That feels so fucking good. Kiri, please, I want you inside me too-”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He eased you down towards Bakugou’s chest to give himself easier access, and gathering saliva in his mouth, he spit and let it drip down your tight hole allowing the tip of his cock to press against your backside. “You okay, baby? Just relax for me, I promise it’ll feel good in a second” Guiding his tip inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him stretch you out in a way you’ve never been before. Bakugou’s hands went down to where you two were connected and rubbed gentle circles on your clit, a feeble attempt to distract you from the pain of being stretched; a feeling he seemed to have been familiar with.

The three of you let out a collective whine as Kirishima fully sheathed himself inside you, the two boys feeling their cocks brush against each other between the thin wall of flesh that was separating them. After allowing yourself time to adjust to their lengths, you announced that you were ready for the fucking of a lifetime.

Encouraging them to move, you ground your hips against the two, to which Bakugou responded by quickly thrusting up into you while Kirishima smacked your ass and snapped his hips forward, the pain only elevating your pleasure. It took them a moment to find their rhythm, starting steady at first, then quickly becoming more and more animalistic.

“God fuck, go faster hnnngh” You whined, so close to your release. You pulled Bakugou into a sloppy kiss while your hands found purchase in his blonde locks. Kirishima then gripped the base of your chin to move your head to the side, as he took Bakugou’s lips into a spit swapping makeout session, your mouth moving onto Bakugou’s neck, happily biting and returning the same dark bruises he so generously gave you earlier.

“Look at you- getting off to having your ass and pussy filled by two different cocks. You really are a filthy fucking whore” spat the man underneath you, four fingers dipping back down to rub fast circles into your sensitive clit. Their rough pace caused your tits to bounce with each thrust and Kirishima took this as an opportunity to tweak and tug at your hardened nipples while placing small kisses on the nape of your neck. “God, you’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m gonna gape this fucking asshole of yours”

The filthy name calling and constant praising only adding more bliss as you continued to get pounded into mercilessly. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum” You cried, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open as you came with a loud cry. Body convulsing, the two men never stopped their thrusting, quickly trying to chase their own release.

“Please, please I want you both to cum inside me, make me your dirty fucking cumslut, fill me up already please, I need it so badly” you panted, leaning back down towards Bakugou’s chest, your hands coming up behind to spread your cheeks apart, yet another mindblowing orgasm so dangerously close. Your holes clenched tightly around their cocks, squeezing them in between your tight walls, furthering chastising their release. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again” you whined.

“C’mon baby, cum for us, I know you’ve got another one in there for us, don’t you?” Kirishima cooed, grabbing the sides of your hips to pound into you even harder than before. “Do it again bitch, cum for us like the fucking slut you really are” snapped Bakugou. You couldn’t hold it in much longer and you came again with a loud moan, juices squirting out of your glistening pussy. The way you clamped down on their lengths caused Bakugou to cum first, his rough thrusting coming to a stop as his cum shot deep into you in hot spurts, a little bit dripping out of your sopping wet cunt as you milked his cock for all it was worth. Seeing you and Bakugou reach your orgasms meant that Kirishima was not that far behind. “Fuck, you are so perfect, I’m gonna fill you up to the brim, baby.” He landed a harsh slap to your ass cheek as you continued squeezing around his cock, roughly thrusting a few more times before he came inside you with a low groan.

You were so spent that you practically passed out on top of Bakugou’s chest. Panting heavily, you tried to catch your breath as you were so utterly fucked out that it was hard to not just collapse with their dicks still inside you. After coming down from your highs, they both pulled out of your abused holes, cum seeping out of you, making you feel incredibly empty.

Bakugou pulled you off of him as Kirishima gingerly placed gentle kisses across your back and shoulders, grabbing a nearby cloth to wipe away the mess the three of you made together. After you were all cleaned up, Kirishima wrapped his arms around your torso while you let your head lay on Bakugou’s chest, fitting perfectly in between the two of them. Kirishima pulled the covers over yourselves so you all could finally get some much needed rest, and then it hit you. The whole reason you came up to their room in the first place.

“You know, I still need help with the math. Can we actually study, please?” you complained.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that too…” Kirishima said nervously.

“Whatever, I’ll help you two idiots study later, just shut up and go the fuck to sleep already.” Bakugou grumbled before the three of you began dozing off.

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha fanfiction #bakugou x reader x kirishima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou

2K notes · View notes

beyscape · 4 years

Text

The Intern - 5

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Being Andy’s intern meant you got to spend more time by his side more than anyone. This was fine, however, until feelings got in the way and made things complicated

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: technically cheating, mentions of sex, teeny bit of sexual content

A/N Contains spoilers from episodes 1-7. Here’s a short little thing to keep you going until Friday. I wanna watch the last episode before writing more, I really like to stay close to the story with this fic.

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

Leaving was never easy for Andy Barber. The warmth of your touch, the softness of your kisses, the hooded look of your eyes… These and some other moments he held dear in his heart came together and made a combination so sinfully sweet that he never managed to get enough of. Every little moment left him yearning for more, desperate for the next time he would get to feel you. The next time he would get to hold you.

He never expected this, never expected to fall so hard. The feelings he nurtured in the most private part of his chest were awakened fully, stronger than he ever felt them. They swirled and came alive in him, a buzz of emotions in his veins, constantly travelling him whole. So powerful, so overwhelming at times that Andy felt he would burst with this newfound affection. So unexpected, something he never knew he needed until after he found it. Your smile, the one that came out only in those intimate hours, flashed in hind, Andy’s heart thudded in response.

It wasn’t long before he found himself in front of the red door that seemed too bright, too glaring, and he was back at the house. Back to pretending and lying. It was a ticking bomb, with Jacob’s trial so close, and the inevitable conversation loomed over him in the forms of dark clouds.

He had to tell Laurie.

He was well aware of it, he precited what he would say and how he would say it. He was supposed to be good at delivering uncomfortable news and speeches, he was a lawyer for God’s sake, yet he couldn’t muster the courage. The words escaped him both times he tried, the conversation ended before it could even begin, and he was running out of time. He closed the door behind him, even the soft clicking sounding too loud in the silence of the morning.

“Where were you?” He stopped as the question hit his ears, asked by a soft but a firm voice, he turned. Laurie sat in the living room, stone-faced as she looked at her husband standing steps away from the stairs. Andy’s first instinct was to lie, like he had done many times before in the long years of his marriage, but he was tired of it. So, the time was now. He sat down across her.

“I…” He took a deep breath, not finding it in himself to look at her cold, accusing face. He no longer felt the kind of love he once thought he did, but that didn’t mean Andy didn’t care about her. Of course he did, she still was the person who spent so long by him. She still was the mother of his son. He wanted to be as gentle as he could. “I was with someone.” He looked up to her face then, the face that didn’t reveal a single thought crossing her mind.

“Who is she?” Her voice hoarse, barely audible as the question fell out of her mouth.

Andy gulped once. “Y/N.”

A bitter laugh escaped Laurie then, her eyes remaining icy. “I should have known.”

A silence fell over them, both wondering how they ended up being two strangers living in the same house. The clock ticked and ticked, the time they had before Jacob woke up slipping away. Andy sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. What could he say? What was there to explain?

Laurie broke the quiet. “How long?”

“Almost four months now.”

“So, since this whole thing started? Jesus, Andy, I can’t believe you. Out of all the times, you had to have an affair now.” She hissed, getting up from her seat.

“I know. But she… she means a lot to me.” He couldn’t help it, couldn’t sit there and play down what he had with you.

“I don’t care.” She scoffed; her arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t care what you feel or who you’re screwing, but if this hurts our son’s trial, Andy, I swear—”

“It won’t.” He stopped her. “It won’t. Neal can’t do shit about it.” Andy insisted.

“So, Neal knows?” Laurie threw her hand in the air, “You are unbelievable.” She walked away, into the kitchen, not wanting to look at him. Andy followed her quietly, leaning on the counter.

“What do we say to Jacob? I don’t want him to find out about it in court.” Laurie muttered after a second, brows furrowed in thought.

“The truth. He’s a smart kid, I’m sure he already knows things aren’t what they used to be.” That was what worried Andy the most, telling Jacob. All he could do was to hope that, in time, Jacob would understand. And maybe forgive him.

“Cause you know so much about telling the truth, right?”

Andy actually chuckled at her remark, he nodded. “I deserved that.”

The pair looked at each other, the distance between them feeling greater than the few feet it actually was. Laurie’s palms rested on the counter at the center of the room. The unspoken words floated between them, years of lies and pretending making up a mountain. She had always wanted to try, to change things and mend them, but in that moment, she knew they were at the point of no return. Laurie took a deep breath, let go of the illusion that things could have been different, and felt just a little bit lighter.

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

The warmth of August was really setting in, leaving you a sticky mess had it not been for the fan you were positioned in front of. Your eyes desperately scanned over the e-mails that had cumulated in your inbox, very little of them were about Jacob’s trial and those were trivial. Too vague to let you know of real details. Neal kept his word, and did his best to keep you away from the case now that he knew of your relationship, he also kept his word on not telling anyone. You were sure Lynn would talk to you if she knew. The knock at the door finally made you look away from the screen of your laptop.

Seeing Andy in front of your door on a weekend afternoon was not at all usual, added with the expression on his face, you knew something was going on. You let him in quietly, he sat down on the spot you were occupying moments ago. A rueful smile appeared on his face as he noted the content on your laptop’s screen. You sat next to him, knees touching, your hand came to rest on top of his.

“Laurie knows. Jacob too.” He eventually said, there was a hint of air on his voice. Like he was happy to say those words after keeping them in for long. Your mouth fell open , you knew it would happen soon, given how the trial was approaching, but it almost felt too soon.

Andy took in your expression, his eyes intently searching your face, and he spoke again. “This morning, when I went back, she was up. We talked, honestly it went better than I thought it would.” He sighed. “We told Jacob too. He… didn’t say much. He needs time, but I think he already knew things weren’t as good as they seemed between us.” His shoulders slumped.

“So they know.” A selfish type of relief washed over you but you didn’t care, another step was over on the way of you and Andy finally stopping the whole sneaking around thing. Just a little bit more, and you would be free.

“Now the only thing left is the trial.” He looked back at you. His eyes were filled with many emotions, they swirled around in his beautiful blue eyes: relief, worry, affection, anxiety…

“Andy, Neal seems sure that he’ll win. Too sure.” Your eyebrows creased as you felt the worry Andy carried around in him. “Our relationship shouldn’t matter much in court, but everything else…” You groaned, “if only I knew what he was doing.”

“It’s alright,” his hand sneaked its way onto your knee, giving a reassuring squeeze, “he’s got nothing, the case will drop. And then, we will take a nice and long road trip.”

A smile curled at the corners of your lips. When he talked so confidently, despite his own fears, it was hard not to believe him. “I would like that very much.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, feeling his strong muscles underneath the thin shirt.

He pulled you on his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs, a soft moan escaped your lips as you felt him under you. You looked down at him, his eyes now hooded with lust, never getting enough of you. You kissed him, almost like it was the first time you ever felt his lips move on yours, yet the familiarity anchoring you. Safe, homely, but never losing the excitement.

“God, Y/N,” he grunted after a while as he pulled back to breathe, drinking you in, “what the hell are you doing to me?”

You kissed him once again, a slow smirk emerging, “I could ask you the same, Mr. Barber.” His head fell back at that, eyes closed. Your kisses trailed down his neck, sending him twitching in all the right places. Andy’s eyes snapped open as your weight lifted from on top of him, leaving a frustrating emptiness, but it quickly dissolved as he saw your next movement.

Sinking on your knees, feeling the soft carper under them, you looked up at Andy through your lashes. Your hands worked with ease, thanks to all the practice in the last couple of months.

“You are so tense,” your fingers ran over him, teasing, “would you like me to help you relieve some of that?” All he could do was nod. You smiled.

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

A/N: Friday can’t come quick enough! Still depends on the episode, but it is very likely next update will be the final (or at least the season finale!) of The Intern... we’ll see how it goes I guess.

CHRIS EVANS TAGLIST @marvelouspottering @kelbabyblue @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @may-machin @little-dark-empress @retro-babez @patzammit @turtoix @rororo06 @thedevilinablackdress @evansgirl7

THE INTERN TAGLIST: @moonlightimagination @bellaireland1981 @buckysteveloki-me @peaceinourtime82 @shaddixlife @sodonutnutnut

#the intern #defending jacob #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans #defending jacob fanfiction

319 notes · View notes

shakespeareanwannabe · 4 years

Text

Protective Instincts

Santiago Pope Garcia x F!OC

Summary: After everything he’s done, Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia can’t fathom the idea of bringing a child into the world. But sometimes, life doesn’t work out exactly as you’ve planned. *Based off of some wonderful headcanons written by @darksideofclarke*

Warnings: Pregnancy fic (so if you’re not into that, please don’t read), swearing, reference to smut (but it’s only like one line), references to blood, death (of adults and children), and PTSD

A/N: Hi everyone! So this is my first fanfic post on Tumblr (I have an active account on ff.net, and if anyone is interested in reading that, I can send you my account name). I really enjoyed writing for Pope, it was really nice to spread my wings outside of the Supernatural fandom, so please let me know if you enjoyed this, because I’ve got so many ideas for how to turn it into a series. Hope you enjoy! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any future chapters that come out.

15 steps to the left.

Stop.

Turn.

15 steps to the left.

Stop.

Turn.

Repeat until the worries of the mind and the heaviness of the heart disappears.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Pope’s voice calls out, causing Rebecca’s steady steps to stumble.

“How can I face him? How can I tell him?” her mind anguished.

She found herself stopped in front of their large bay window, staring out into the street as her wonderful, loving boyfriend walked up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, not noticing how she flinched as he hands come to rest on top of her still soft stomach and planted a gentle kiss on her neck.

“How was your day?” he questioned, seemingly content with the picture of domestic bliss that they undoubtedly made, as he nuzzled his nose in between her shoulder blades.

“It was fine,” she murmured quietly, folding her arms around her chest.

Pope shifted, his nose gently brushing her ear as he twisted to look at her profile.

“What happened?”

What had happened? How could she answer that when every molecule in her body was seemingly at war with each other? When her heart was rejoicing but the tiniest voice in the back of her mind was throwing up red flags because they had never talked about this before and she had no clue how he was going to react? When every instinct inside of her was screaming ‘protect’ and every emotion was yelling ‘share’?

“I…I think we should sit.”

Pope felt his heart stutter but nodded as he gently led her to the couch. Was this the moment he had been dreading? Was this when karma kicked in and took away the best thing that had ever happened to him?

“Bex, please…” he kept his hand on her thigh as they settled next to each other on the leather couch. “Are you okay?” Hesitantly, she nodded, and Pope sighed with relief. “What’s going on, baby?”

She shifted slightly, pulling away from his hand and playing with her fingers in her lap. “Umm…you know how I haven’t been feeling great the past week or so?”

He nodded, leaning forward. “Yeah, did you go to the doctor today like I asked?”

He had had to beg her to go. She had insisted that it was just the flu, probably coupled with her oncoming period in the next couple of days. She usually felt like shit when that time of the month rolled around, but the constant vomiting had been new, so he had pleaded with her daily for the last four days to go to the doctor. In hindsight, she had been resistant because she had a sneaking suspicion, but, again, her instincts had been at war with each other.

“Yeah, I went…” It wasn’t until her breathing hitched and Santiago lifted his hand to brush away a tear that she even realized she was crying.

“Baby…” Rebecca looked up and met Santi’s dark eyes. She could read the fear reflected in them and it only made her feel worse. Her sweet, burdened man had fought a war, lost friends, and here she was, scaring him in the comfort of his own home.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, wanting to see that worry washed away from his expression.

Instead, she saw the walls slam up in his eyes.

*******************************************************************************************

Pope had the unfortunate experience of being too close to an explosive as it detonated. He’d felt the shrapnel dig itself into his body, felt the heat burn his skin, but, for Pope, the worst part was the ringing in his ears. When the dull sound of tinnitus overtook everything. He’d had men, friends, best friends, screaming in his face but had been unable to hear them. The roar of the fire and the scream of bullets flying sounded like he was hearing them from deep underwater, Catfish could be hollering in his ear that they had to move, but he couldn’t make out the words.

“I’m pregnant…” Rebecca blurted, hesitantly glancing back and forth between his face and her lap.

Now, he was sure that she kept talking. Hell, he could see her lips moving. But the words…they weren’t reaching him. Everything was white noise, he was moving through water, the scar on the back of his neck started to burn.

One thing the military had taught Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia was how to listen to his instincts. He was a damn good leader, he had a loyal crew of men who depended on him and had his back, and that was partially because his instincts were usually pretty spot on. If that feeling in his gut told him to stop, they stopped. If it told him to run, he was dragging his team alongside him at a dead sprint. If it told him to shoot, he shot.

Now, his fight or flight was telling him one thing.

Pope rose from the couch, his eyes just skating past Rebecca’s panicked expression, his brain not really absorbing any new information, like how her lips were moving in a repetitive pattern.

“Santi…Pope…Santiago…Please…Santi…Pope…Santiago…Please…”

His ears were ringing, but his eyes knew her lips well enough to understand, even if that information wasn’t making it to his brain.

Wordlessly, emotionlessly, almost lifelessly, Pope paced to the front door, shrugged on his leather jacket, donned his sunglasses, pulled his keys out of his pocket.

Open the door. One step over the doorframe.

Turn.

Close the door. Lock it.

Five stairs. Fifteen paces.

Unlock car. Get in. Key in ignition. Seatbelt on.

Start car. Shift gears. Peddle on the right.

Drive.

Santiago had no destination in mind, no plan. For once, the man with a plan had no plan.

“I’m pregnant…”

He felt the whizz of a bullet flying by his cheek.

“I’m pregnant…”

The blood of a civilian spurted through his fingers as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

“I’m pregnant…”

The bodies of kids lined up outside of a village that had just been bombed, that they hadn’t gotten there in time to save.

“I’m pregnant…”

Every echo of Bex’s voice brought a new memory.

Car bombs exploding in Afghanistan.

The numerous deaths of innocent civilians in Iraq.

The countless executions of sicarios in Colombia by the police force.

Tom and the complete fuck up that he had led his friends into.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Pope looked down for a split second and saw Rebecca’s photo lighting up his screen.

It was a photo they had taken on the Fourth of July. He had taken her out to Will’s cabin out in the middle of the woods, deep enough that none of the seasoned veterans would be able to hear the fireworks exploding overhead. She had spider-monkeyed her way around him as he sat on a log next to the campfire, arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs around his waist, and chest pressed tightly up against his back, and when Benny had seen the way he had smiled at her over his shoulder, he had snapped the photo with his phone.

For a split second, Pope was torn. Did he cave to the guilt that was starting to gnaw at his gut and answer the phone? Did he shut his phone off so he wouldn’t have to hear the rattling sound in his cupholder? In the end, he did neither.

His instincts were driving him to continue down the road, and his heart wouldn’t let him shut off his phone, so he ignored it. He knew she would begin to panic if his phone sent her straight to voicemail but leaving it on allowed her the peace of mind to know that he would answer…eventually. When he was ready.

Pope didn’t pay any attention to his dashboard clock, nor did he pay any mind to the sun that was slowly crawling its way across the sky. He knew hours had passed, he knew that Bex was calling him every ten minutes or so, and he knew that the emptiness of the road and the repetitive hum of the tires below him was soothing his mind.

When his truck dinged, alerting him to the news that his truck had about ten miles left before it ran out of gas, he pulled over, stopped, and refilled the tank with what was left in his gas can before continuing.

He paid attention to the traffic and to the periodic buzzing of his phone, that was it.

Hours passed, his phone buzzing every ten minutes like clockwork until the sun hung low in the sky. Until his phone stopped buzzing.

At the first ten minute mark when his phone didn’t buzz and his and Bex’s smiling faces didn’t appear on his screen, approximately six hours into his drive and approximately around the time when Pope realized he had been driving in circles for at least the last four, he glanced down to make sure that his phone hadn’t died.

Ten minutes after that, he pulled onto a farm road, slowing to a stop on the side of the dirt road. His heart was racing as though he had been running for the past six hours, and he couldn’t understand why.

13 minutes after that, his phone came to life again, a pixelated likeness of Catfish’s face appearing in the dimming light of the sunset. Bex was in that photo too, Frankie pressing a kiss to her cheek while winking at Pope behind the camera.

Pope sighed and cleared his throat, hoping to convey a lightheartedness when he greeted, “Hey Fish, what’s goin’ on?”

Pope heard a screen door slam shut as Frankie growled, “Estúpido hijo de puta.”

Pope pulled the phone away from his ear, making sure it was actually Catfish calling and not some crank call. “Frankie?”

“Santi, do you want to tell me why I’m here with your hysterical girlfriend and you’re not?”

Pope felt his heart sink in his chest. “Fish, I—”

“Bex nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack when she called,” Frankie talked over him. “Sobbing so hard she couldn’t get the words out. I gunned it over to your place thinking you had been kidnapped or something, man. Had an SOS text ready to send to Benny and Will, only to find out that you had just left and you weren’t answering her calls. What the fuck, Pope?”

Pope stepped out of his truck and leaned back against the door, staring out at the reds and purples and golds of the sunset.

“…she’s pregnant, man.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And?” Pope wrenched himself away from the truck and began pacing up and down the abandoned stretch of road. “And I don’t know how the fuck to be a father! I don’t know how to raise a kid to be a benefit to society and not a colossal fuck up! After all the shit I’ve done, all the blood on my hands?” Pope took a shaky, shuddery breath, pressing the phone up to his forehead as he wished he could keep it together. He shouldn’t be saying anything. He should bury all the shit so deep down it never sees the light of day. He should, but it was also Frankie Morales he was talking to. His ride or die since day one. The guy who, no matter what was happening, always gave it to him straight. The brain behind Pope’s brawn.

“What gives me the right, Frankie?” Pope mumbled as he brought the phone back to his ear. “I’ve killed people…I’ve gotten people killed…I’ve let people die…That kid is gonna come into the world all innocent, take one look at me, and see a killer. H—How am I supposed to raise a kid when I can barely keep my own shit together half the time?”

The line was silent for a long time, and Pope helplessly dashed at the water that had pooled in his eyes.

“No sé cómo hacer esto, hermano,” he whispered.

Finally, he heard the telltale rasp of Frankie running his hand over his face. “Chill the fuck out, bro,” Frankie told him in a voice that somehow managed to be both soothing and commanding. “Holding that kid will be the best thing you ever do in your life. The only thing that makes all of the shit worth it.”

“But—”

“No buts, Pope. You wanna know how you’re gonna raise that kid? You’re not,” he said simply. “You and Bex are gonna raise that kid together. You’re gonna make mistakes, and screw up, and so will she, but as long as you’re there, and you love that kid hard, and you actually give a shit, then you’re gonna be leaps and bounds above half the dickheads out there that call themselves dads.” Pope squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks. He didn’t know if Frankie knew that his partner and friend was tearing up in the middle of nowhere, but he also knew that Frankie (and Bex) were probably the only two people on the planet who wouldn’t give him shit for it.

He just couldn’t help it. Six hours ago, his world had exploded, and now Frankie was helping him put it together piece by painful piece. Worst of all was how badly Pope wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe that the kid would make all the bullshit he had gone through worth it, but he didn’t dare imagine it. It was too good to be true. He was too broken, too beaten down to make a good father.

“Listen man,” Frankie grunted, and Pope’s keen ears picked up a shuffle in the background that told him Frankie had sat down somewhere. “I’ve got the same blood and shit on my hands that you do. Worse, even, if you consider that mess I got myself into without you. Does that make me a bad dad?”

Pope was already shaking his head. After the mess in Colombia, after Yovanna had decided that he wasn’t worth her time, Pope had come home and settled a few blocks over from where Frankie and his fiancée at the time (now his wife), Charlotte, had settled down. Pope had seen Frankie with his son, Mateo, more times than he could count.

“Frankie—”

“Exactly. And considering where my head was at when Charlie told me she had a bun in the oven, I shoulda been. I could’ve messed that kid up bad…I thought I would, but I didn’t.” Frankie sighed again, and Pope could visualize him scratching at his facial hair. “Santi, bringing that kid into the world is the only thing that’ll make up for all of the shit. Believe me.”

Because it was Frankie, his right-hand man, his best friend, Pope allowed himself to hope. He allowed himself to close his eyes and imagine it. A little baby nestled in his arms, curling up against his chest like he hadn’t killed countless people. Dark eyes looking up at him the way their mother looked at him, with love and kindness, like he didn’t have blood on his hands. A chance to do some good in the world, to bring some light into his life. A chance to raise a kid who could be better than he ever was. Who wouldn’t tear the world down in a storm of bullets and bombs, but maybe, just maybe, build it back up with smiles and love.

Pope choked back a sob. “Frankie, I fucked up.”

“Nah, hermano,” Frankie chuckled. “Your girl loves you. The only way you can fuck up now is if you don’t come home. Then, I’m morally obligated to hunt you down and castrate you.”

Pope chuckled a watery laugh as he climbed back into the cab of his truck. “I’m on my way now.”

“Good, my ass is getting cold from sitting on your front steps,” Frankie laughed.

Pope laughed again, a real laugh this time. “Go home, cabrón.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who has some major ass kissing to do, jackass.”

Pope waited as he could hear Frankie getting into his car. “Seriously, man. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, bro,” Pope heard Frankie’s car start in the background. “Just fix it.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and I call godfather!”

Pope laughed as he hung up and sped down the road. If he kept on this road and obeyed the speed limit, he could make it home in half an hour. He was determined to make it home in twenty.

*******************************************************************************************

It may have been the worst parking job Pope had ever done, with half the car parked on the grass, half on the asphalt, the back end blocking most of the sidewalk, and a few inches between his rear, driver’s side tire and the back end of Rebecca’s car, but he didn’t care. The jovial spirit that had overtaken him at the tail-end of his chat with Frankie had vanished as he got closer and closer to home. He needed to see his girl. He needed to make things right.

He waved as the lights on Frankie’s minivan flashed twice before pulling away from the curb across the street, grateful that his friend had stayed until he had gotten home, and jogged up to the front door, quietly unlocking it and stepping into the silent house.

The lights in the living room were off. As Pope stumbled over the jumble of shoes at the front door, he caught sight of the pile of tissues sitting on the coffee table and felt his heart sink and those tears he had been choking back fight their way up his throat again.

A dull light shone from behind the kitchen door, and Pope tentatively approached it, pressing gently at the swinging door to take a peek inside.

When he caught sight of her, his heart shattered inside his chest.

He’d always thought Rebecca was beautiful, from the second he had caught sight of her at the physiotherapy clinic. Drenched in sweat and red-faced, that had been his first impression of her, but her smile and the playful glint in her eyes had bewitched him in an instant.

He’d seen her dressed to the nines, looking like she’d stepped out of one of those fashion magazines that she kept in her bedside table. He’d seen her in sweats after a day of cleaning house. He’d seen her naked as the day she was born, whimpering and moaning as he painted her chest with his cum. She’d always been beautiful. Stunning, gorgeous.

Even now, Pope had to acknowledge the melancholic beauty that surrounded her. The remnants of tears that clung to her eyelashes, the blotchy red patches that stained her skin, the weariness that tugged her whole body down until she was slumped in her seat at the kitchen table, feet propped up in his seat, her phone just barely visible from where he stood, propped up against her bent legs, one elbow laid across her knees while the other arm was bearing the weight of her head, hand cushioned in the sleeve of her oversized white sweater.

“Baby…” he murmured, pushing his way into the kitchen and standing in the low light cast by the lamp in the center of the table.

It took her a moment, but she finally looked up, tears welling back up in her red-rimmed eyes as she gasped out a sob at the very sight of him.

Whatever had been holding Pope up until that point – call it stubbornness, call it pride, call it resolution – dissolved at that sob.

One step.

Two steps.

His knees hit the hardwood floor as he choked out a sob, tears finally spilling down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he cried as he buried his face into Rebecca’s thighs. “I’m so, so sorry…”

He didn’t know how long he knelt there, tears turning her pale blue jeans dark, pain radiating from his knees, up to his neck and throughout his limbs, voice growing hoarse as he repeated the words again and again and again.

Finally, finally, Pope felt that touch of grace as she slowly, gingerly raised her hand and began to carefully card it through his thick salt-and-pepper curls. Her touch of kindness only served to make him cry harder as he raised his head and gazed upon her tear-stained face.

“I’m so sorry, mi alma,” he rasped, shuffling forward until his forehead was pressed into her lower belly, where the life they had created together was just beginning to grow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into the small band of skin that was revealed where her sweater had ridden up.

After what felt like hours, Pope stirred, slowly peeling himself off the floor to stand in front of her. With a hopeful look in his eyes, he extended his hand to her and prayed to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in that she would take it.

*******************************************************************************************

Rebecca eyed his extended hand suspiciously. Part of her wanted to slap it away, scream at him for the anguish he had put her through the past few hours, and make him sleep on the couch until the baby was born. But the other part of her, the part that could see the tremor in his arms and legs as he stood there and the pleading look in his eyes and the deep lines that were etched in his forehead, that part of her coaxed her into gently unfolding from her curled up position and taking his hand.

Gently, Santiago helped her to her feet and led her out of the kitchen, down the hall and into their bedroom. She stood there in the doorway as he moved around the room, dropping his black t-shirt and dark jeans into the hamper, placing his watch on his nightstand, and plugging his phone into the charger, until he stopped by her side of the bed, tugging the covers down and looking at her with that same pleading gaze.

Slowly, hesitantly, she followed his lead, stripping down to her bra and panties and sliding under the covers that he was holding up for her. In a flash, Santiago slid into his side of the bed and pulled her tightly to him, her back to his chest with one of his hands gently cradling her still flat belly.

As he pressed a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder, she couldn’t help the shuddery, teary gasp of that one word that had been at the forefront of her mind since he had shut the door in her face and locked it behind him: “Why?”

Rebecca heard him sigh, a long, weary breath out that spoke of exhaustion and trauma.

“When you told me…everything just kind of shut down. All I could think of was to protect.”

“Protect who?”

She felt him shrug. “Protect myself. Protect you from me and all my bullshit. Protect the baby from the fuck up they have as a father.”

“Santi…” she whispered mournfully. “You know I don’t—”

“I know,” he interjected before clearing his throat. “It’s just…I’ve done some really bad things in my life, Bex. I’m not a good person,” he continued in a whisper. “You know some of the stuff that I’ve done, but most of it is so classified I doubt I’ll ever be allowed to talk about it. And I don’t want to. I don’t want you to ever hear about it. So, when you told me we were having a baby, my mind just kind of shut down. All I could think of was how many people I’ve killed; how much blood is on my hands.”

He trailed off as a dark silence loomed over the room.

“You scared me…” she finally whispered.

He chuckled darkly as he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I scared myself,” he admitted. “I just…I couldn’t imagine how any good could come out of this. I…” he paused, and Rebecca rolled over to face him, watching his Adam’s apple work in his throat. “I don’t deserve to be a dad, Bex.”

She nodded, tears springing to her eyes again at his admittance. She wished he could see what she saw. He was good with kids. So good with them. Watching him with Frankie’s son Mateo was one of the most adorable sights she had ever seen. He would be such a good father. But…she couldn’t force it on him. She knew he had baggage, knew it when she met him, but things had been so good between them that she had hoped they would be okay.

“I…uh, I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do, Santi,” she murmured, desperately trying to keep the tears out of her voice. “You can be as involved or—”

“Oh baby, no. No, no, shh…” he pulled her into his chest, banding his arms tightly around her back until her head was nestled into his shoulder and his face was buried in her hair. “I’m gonna be better, okay? I swear to god, I’m gonna be better for you and this kid. I called Will on the drive home, and he’s gonna help me find a group to talk to about all this. I can’t promise it won’t happen again but I’m gonna fight as hard as I can to be there for you one hundred percent.” He peeled his face away from her neck and angled himself to look directly into her eyes, their noses almost touching. “I’ll read all the parenting books and go to any and all classes you sign us up for. I’m gonna be there for every appointment. I’ll learn how to give massages if you need me to rub your feet or your back, and I’ll go out for any cravings you might have, even if I have to drive all the way across town at 3 o’clock in the morning.” Tears began pooling in her eyes again, except this time there was a small smile on her face. “When the baby comes, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. You can break my hand if you need to during labor. If you want it to just be us, it’ll just be us. If you want a whole damn camera crew there to document the whole thing, I’ll make it happen.” He pulled her closer and cupped her face in his hands. “I’m gonna get a good job, baby. No more side jobs, no more private sector. I’ll take whatever 9 to 5 I can find to help take care of us. Hell, I’ll take two jobs if you want to be a stay at home mom. Or, if you want, I’ll stay at home with the kid. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”

Finally, Rebecca laughed as happy tears streamed down her face. “You’re rambling, babe.”

Pope laughed too, a happy, relieved sound as he pressed his lips to hers for the first time that evening. “I know, I know,” he whispered, wiping her tears away with his fingertips. “I just need you to know that I’m all in. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Whatever this kid needs. I’m here. I’m gonna be a dick sometimes, and I’m gonna make mistakes, and I’m gonna be so far out of my league between you and this kid, but I’m gonna be here. I swear to god.”

Rebecca giggled, pulling her hand from his chest to play with the grey baby curls at the back of his neck. “That’s all we need,” she whispered as she pulled him closer to plant a sweet, loving kiss on his lips. She pulled back and ran a fond hand over his cheek. “Just promise me, next time this happens, you let me know. Just a word or a gesture or something?”

Pope nodded, ashamed of his actions. He was always the first to go in, guns blazing, no thought to his own safety if it meant protecting his team. But the second he found out about the baby, he had left his most important teammate behind to fend for herself.

“I promise, baby. And I’m so sorry…” he nuzzled into her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her dimple.

She smiled at him as she rolled over and rested her head on his bicep. “We’re gonna be okay, babe,” she yawned, her eyes drifting closed after the emotional day she had had.

Pope nestled in behind her, not leaving an inch of space between them. Lying there, happy with the woman he loved in his arms, Pope took a deep breath and allowed himself to drift off, her words echoing in his mind. They would be okay. He’d make sure of it.

*******************************************************************************************

Tags List: @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha

#santiago pope garcia x oc #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #oscar issac #fanfic

87 notes · View notes

yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years

Text

Inhuman (2)

Summary: All beings in the universe have a soulmate except for Midgardians. People can hear their soulmate in their heads. For almost five hundred and fifty years, Loki believed that he had no soulmate until 1513 when a Midgardian princess was born. Will fate be kind to them or will the universe tear them apart?

Warnings: violence, language, hella historical inaccuracies (I tried to do research but then got lazy), maybe some AOS season 2 spoilers(?)

Word Count: ~3600

A/N: Not a lot of Reader in this chapter. Please tell me what you think! I love hearing from you guys and it keeps me motivated!

[New York, March 2024]

“We can’t find her,” Steve said as he walked back into the flower shop. Everyone else followed the Captain in.

The flower girl took a quick gasp at the heroes in her shop but Natasha gave her a soothing rub on the back. Nobody wanted to deal with a hysterical flower girl. Luckily, the woman who had killed Anderson hadn’t knocked over any plants in her hurry and the shop was still in one piece. Nat stood up and gave the woman one last look to make sure she wasn’t about to break down again and then the Avengers filed out of the shop.

There was a small crowd when they walked out onto the street. People were taking photos and videos of the ruined cafe. Their phones turned to the heroes, though, when they were spotted.

“Stark, can you get the security video from the cafe?” Steve ordered. “Wanda and I will talk to the baristas. Everyone else either deals with the crowds or examines the cafe.” Everyone nodded and went off to their respective jobs.

Inside the cafe, Anderson lied dead in a large pool of his own blood. Nat started to snap pictures of the bodies and damages. Behind the counter, she found a pair of plastic gloves and made a small show of putting them on. Bucky just picked up the bullet casings with his metal hand.

Nat gingerly moved Anderson’s head to get a clearer view of his neck wound. He had definitely died of blood loss due to the wound which was definitely inflicted by a knife. She looked around the room and her eyes landed on one of Anderson’s goons. A simple, black knife sat in his forehead. Nat walked over to the body and pulled the knife from his head and held it up to show Bucky.

“Think we can run this for prints?” She asked.

“Yeah, there might be some bags behind the counter.” There were. “Have you seen the bullet wounds in each of the security guys? All straight through the forehead.”

“Same with the fourth guy with this knife.”

“There are plenty of bullet casings from the securities’ guns but only three from another. She fired three times, each one hitting its mark.”

“So she’s a good shot,” Nat surmised.

“Are you guys done in there?” Sam asked through the broken window. The two ex-assassins rolled their eyes and joined everyone else outside.

“I got the security feed, obviously, but Cap also got a video from one of the baristas, right?” Tony reported.

“She just wanted to get Steve’s number,” Wanda laughed.

“Okay, we can go back to the compound to compare notes,” Steve suggested.

They all nodded and went back to the quinjet, the sounds of excited civilians and their cameras following them.

🌹

"Please let me come with you to see your home," she begged at the end of one of their meetings. They stood in the forest. Far enough in where they wouldn't be spotted but still close enough to the edge to be safe from wild animals.

"I wish I could. I really do. But I can’t.”

“Why not?” She knew how she sounded. Her mother always warned her against whining. Still, she could not help the doubts clouding her mind. “Are-are you ashamed of me?” Her eyes watered at the thought as her cheeks burned from the absurdity of the question. Of course, he wasn’t ashamed of her. Right?

“I could never. You are perfect.” He kissed the top of her head. “The only thing stopping me is the Asgardians. They disapprove of you Midgardians," Loki explained.

"But I am sure if you tell them I'm your soulmate," she paused.

"I do not think that an Asgardian has ever had a Midgardian soulmate. You are the only ones in the Nine Worlds without soulmates." She huffed and nodded like she understood, although she honestly didn't. "Thank you for being patient. I believe that you will, one day, have the privilege to see Asgard. It is not as beautiful as you."

“I don’t want you to leave me alone here.”

“You will never be alone. I will never leave you, my dear.”

What a load of shit that had turned out to be. It had been so long since Loki had dreamed of her. He supposed that’s what he got for being back on Midgard. He couldn’t think about her. It hurt too much, knowing that he couldn’t have her.

Now, what had woken him up? Oh, the fucking AI. Apparently the Avengers had returned from their escapade.

“Is everyone here?” Stark asked when Loki walked into the conference room from earlier. Why was he always the last one to enter? “Okay, we have some videos to watch. F.R.I.D.A.Y. hit the lights.”

The lights in the room dimmed and Loki sat down at the table. The screen at the front turned on and a security feed began to play. Loki recognized the Midgardian Senator when he entered despite the tinted glasses on his face. Four men followed him in and spread out across the small cafe. He sat down with his back to the camera. The video skipped a couple of minutes and resumed when a woman with pink and green hair walked in.

“That’s obviously a wig,” Wilson snorted.

Loki narrowed his eyes. The woman reminded him of (Y/N) somehow. Maybe the body shape or the way she held herself. It obviously couldn't be (Y/N), though. He couldn’t even see her face because of the hat and camera angle. Loki brushed off the familiarity to the recent dream. He was seeing her in everything.

They talked briefly, but the security feed had no sound. The woman showed the man something on her phone and the Senator put a briefcase on the table. He opened the briefcase and the Avengers only caught a brief glimpse of its contents before the woman turned it to face her. She smiled and dramatically rubbed her hands together.

“What was that?” Thor raised his eyebrow at the screen.

“Probably to get the knife out of her sleeve,” Romanoff said and sure enough a moment later, the woman stabbed the Senator in the neck.

Loki tried to hide his smirk when she removed the knife and the Senator’s blood squirted like a fountain. The four men converged on her and drew their guns. She flipped the table as the men fired on her. Loki found himself rooting for her, even though he knew the outcome. The woman popped up and shot three of the men. Then she threw the knife at the fourth man. Once he went down, the cafe’s window broke and she left the cafe.

“And then we arrived, she ran into the next door flower shop where we lost her,” Stark continued once the video stopped. “The next video is from one of the baristas.”

The video changed and this time it had sound.

“Dude, that’s a Senator or something, right?” one female voice behind the camera asked. The video shook and the Avengers watched the woman walk in.

“I don’t know, shut up.”

“Senator,” the woman said.

The dream must really be getting to Loki’s head because the woman even sounded like (Y/N). Even after all this time, he would never be able to forget what his soulmate’s voice sounded like. Could it be a descendant? A relative? He knew she never had children.

“You can’t possibly be the one I talked to,” the Senator replied. “You’re just a girl.”

“I would have stabbed him too if he said that to me,” Romanoff joked. Maximoff snorted and nodded in agreement.

“Well of course I couldn’t be. My boss is too busy and smart to meet you in public.”

The Senator made no sign of noticing her tone, but the Avengers sure did.

She pulled out the phone and showed him the screen. “Now, I’m also busy so if we can get this over with?”

“Sure, darling.” He put the briefcase on the table.

“Open it.”

The Senator followed the order and this time, the Avengers could see the money that filled the briefcase. She nodded and rubbed her hands together.

“Thank you, Senator. That will be all.”

The following chaos ensued and the video stopped when the girls ducked down behind the counter to hide. The lights came back on.

“We have a couple more presentations before we get into the group discussion,” Stark said and the majority of the people at the table rolled their eyes.

“We’re not a fucking kindergarten class, Stark,” Barnes grumbled as he and Romanoff went to the front. The screen now showed various pictures of the bodies.

“We recovered the knife used to kill Anderson and one goon,” Romanoff held up the knife. “We found prints on it, but we found no records to match them.”

“There were many bullet casings on the ground, mostly from the security,” Barnes continued. “Only three came from the woman, I assume. That means she has a lot of practice shooting people in the forehead.”

“Is this the same group that Anderson had hired?” Barton asked. “Cause there were no white roses.”

“We got a closer look at what was on the phone, and it looked like text messages. This was a meeting for the payment. And it seems like this lady is in charge.”

“Thank you, kids,” Stark stood back up with his eyes glued to his phone. “But apparently Senator Anderson’s house was robbed around the same time he was murdered.” He tapped the phone and flicked his wrist and new photos appeared at the front. “They took everything of value and—”

“Left white rose petals everywhere,” the Captain sighed as he studied the pictures. “This white rose organization has been growing under our noses for too long. I think we have to end it.”

They needed time to come up with a solid plan. If they scared them off, it could be years until they had another chance to catch them.

🌹

Thoughts of (Y/N) ran rampant in Loki’s mind. After the meeting, he had gone up to Bruce to inquire about her. She had been a princess, a queen, right? He had to know about her.

“Queen (Y/N)?” Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking about Queen (Y/N), eldest daughter to King Henry VIII?”

“Er, she had a sister named Mary,” Loki supplied.

“Bloody Mary?”

“Maybe? Can you just give me a quick Midgardian history lesson?”

“I’m not the most well versed in sixteenth-century English history. Maybe you could search it up online? Or go to a museum?”

Bruce had done a quick search with the help of Stark’s AI and had learned that a museum down in the capital, Washington DC, was having a special exhibit on English history. He had also suggested Thor go along with him. Just in case Loki decided to do something stupid. So now, Loki was being trailed by the very obvious God of Thunder as he walked through the museum.

Crowns, jewelry, and clothes from the sixteenth century were displayed in glass cases as humans milled around reading the descriptions. A tour guide was leading a group of teenagers around, pausing every once in a while. Loki couldn’t get past the group and stuck to listening to the tour.

Fucking finally. They had made it to the monarchs and family trees. Loki could see (Y/N)’s painted portrait. It was an accurate image of her, yet it still could not capture her true ethereal beauty. Delicate white flowers filled the empty space behind her.

“(Y/N) was the infamous Bloody Mary’s older sister and eldest surviving child to King Henry VIII,” the tour guide said to the teens. “Born in 1513, she married Phillip II of Spain when she was twenty-five. After her death, Phillip II would remarry her sister, Mary. She was a benevolent ruler, especially compared to her sister and successor. After her father died in January of 1547, she, along with fifteen others, perished in a suspicious fire that was never solved.”

What? Loki stood staring at (Y/N)’s portrait as the group moved on. The museum must have it wrong. (Y/N) had died seven years earlier in December of 1538. Loki’s mind spun. Was she actually alive for seven more years? Why was the connection shut off? She had to have died that day. It was painful but was it better than him seemingly abandoning her? Because he did abandon her, and his choice haunted Loki ever since.

🌹

[San Juan, Puerto Rico, December 1538]

You could see the land up ahead. It was a vague outline of a coast, but it was more land than you had seen in four weeks. The ship creaked under your feet as Agnes brought you to your new husband’s study. He was going to show you the reason you were sailing across the ocean.

In the study, a strange metallic object sat on a thick cloth on the desk. It was about the length of your forearm and it had many geometric sides, causing it to look bent.

“We found a case of these in Portugal,” Phillip told you. “We managed to get most of them out, but it cost a great many people’s lives.”

“It was guarded?” you asked. The many surfaces were not smooth. You wanted to touch it. When you reached a hand out for it, Phillip grabbed it and pulled you back.

“Not in the way you would think. The men who directly came into contact with them were quickly turned to stone. But when they did,” Phillip opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment, “the strangest symbols appeared on its surface.”

On the parchment, seemingly random lines and ellipsis. You looked at your husband for an explanation.

“The locals told a story of blue angels who fell from the heavens to Earth. Some called them the… Kree? Yes, I believe that was it. We are traveling to Puerto Rico because there are similar stories there. I believe we found where this belongs.”

Loki, you asked your soulmate. Have you heard of the Kree?

“You said there were more?” you asked Phillip while you waited for Loki’s reply.

“Moving more than one is too dangerous. This… object. It is a weapon.”

The sound of ringing bells made both of you look up. You were here. As you were disembarking from the ship, Loki finally responded.

The Kree are a very advanced militaristic race. I know of them, how do you?

Have they ever been to Earth? You looked around at your new surroundings as the warm air tickled your skin.

Not that I know of, but I can do some inquiring. He went silent.

“Right this way, your majesty,” a man said with an accent. He led you to a carriage and opened the door for you.

“Where are we going?” you asked before entering.

“To the site, your majesty,” he replied.

You supposed you were already in your traveling clothes and you didn’t want to get any of your fancy dresses dirty. Agnes joined you in the carriage.

“What did the King want?” Agnes asked. All formalities between the two of you had already been dropped by the third week of knowing each other.

“He showed me this,” you paused. You didn’t know what it was. “It was this object that he believes belongs here or more specifically, where we are going.”

The ride was, thankfully, over quickly, but Loki had not gotten back to you yet. You and Agnes left the increasingly stuffy carriage and watched men with shovels linger around the giant hole in the ground. You walked closer and a tall, thin man with spectacles fell into step next to you. He gingerly held a box in his hands.

“Is it in there?” you asked looking at the box out of the corner of your eye.

“Er, yes. Yes, it is, your majesty,” he stuttered.

“What is going to happen?”

“W-well, a team of men are going to go down and th-they will find where it belongs.”

A man walked up to the thin man who opened the box to display the mysterious object. With gloves on, he wrapped the object in its cloth and removed it. You should be the one to take it. Where on Earth did that come from? You shouldn’t touch it lest you want to turn to stone.

You followed the man with the object as he joined a group of six men with torches, armor, and swords. They began to climb down a ladder that led deep into the ground. You needed to go with them. Why, though?

“I’m going as well,” you turned and began to descend the ladder.

“Your highness,” the tall man rushed to the edge and yelled down at you. “I-I wouldn’t advise—”

“You are not my advisor.”

“Your highness!” Agnes shouted.

“Nobody else follows,” you ordered. “Or tell Phillip.”

The rest of your descent was silent. Goodness, this went down much further than you had thought. The closest man’s torch barely illuminated the rungs where you were. It still felt as if you had made the correct decision.

Loki? Are you there? He remained silent.

Sounds of pained screaming and concerned shouts erupted below you. What now? Then the shouts became more fearful and the sound of metal hitting metal reached your ears. You got to the bottom and gasped when you saw four of the seven men dead on the ground, blood seeping across the ground. One torch was still lit so you picked it up and followed the sound of the last three.

The ceilings were high above you and the walls were solid rock, not dirt as you had first expected. Out of the darkness, a man ran at you, his face contorted in panic.

“Your highness,” he said with an accent. Then he spoke in rapid Spanish as he caught his breath. Someone yelled down the hall and you took a step back. “Run!” the man yelled.

Then another man came out of the darkness and impaled the first with his sword. You jumped back with a small scream and clapped your hand over your mouth. Your breathing was heavy as the second man straightened his back and looked at you with terrifying red eyes.

To your surprise, he didn’t attack you. After a minute of stillness and silence, you realized that he was beckoning to you. You took a tentative step closer and he took one back. You took another step and he moved back again. He wanted to lead you somewhere.

The first place the man brought you was just a few meters down the hall. He pointed to the object on the ground next to a statue. No, not a statue. The man must have touched the object and he turned to stone. You took in a shaky breath and looked at the red-eyed man for confirmation. He only continued to point.

You couldn’t see the cloth it was wrapped in before so you made the insane decision to pick it up with your bare hands. You winced and waited to turn to stone but when nothing happened, you looked at it. The same pattern that had been on the parchment Phillip showed you had popped up, covering the object in a glowing red-orange light.

With renewed confidence, you followed the man through the maze-like halls. The next stop was a large, circular room that was lit from above. A stone pedestal was in the center and when you walked over to it, you saw it held the patterns as well. The walls around the room began to move, leaving you trapped alone in the silent room.

Loki? You couldn’t feel his presence.

The object moved in your hand and you instinctively let it go. It didn’t fall to the ground but floated to the pedestal. Were you shaking? The object opened and started to fold in on itself, revealing rising, dark blue crystals.

Loki, please. Where are you? You felt a tear slip down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. The crystals began to glow and then a wave of mist exploded outward. It exploded outward and knocked you backward. Loki!

I’m sorry, my brother was bothering me. What’s wrong?

Your breath was quick and it shook in time with your body. I-I don’t know. I’m scared, Loki. Your body tingled and you saw a dark layer of stone spread across your body and around your clothes. Tears freely dripped down your face now. S-something is happening Loki. Please, I’m so scared.

I’m sorry, I can’t do anything.

You couldn’t move and the layer reached your face. You could see it creeping up on you out of the corner of your eye. You were stuck. You couldn’t do anything as your vision was obscured but mentally call out for Loki.

It felt like you were in darkness for hours, but it was probably only a minute. Eventually, the crust around you began to crack and you were able to move your fingers. The stone layer kept falling away and the moment you could, you collapsed to the ground. Silent sobs racked your body.

The walls opened up again and the red-eyed man still stood, waiting.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry until you ran out of tears. You wanted to give up and lie on the stone floor forever.

You knew that something had changed. When you were waiting in the darkness, you knew. You felt empty inside. You knew it wouldn’t work but you still tried to call out to Loki.

He was gone.

He had promised he would never leave, but he was gone.

And you were alone.

Taglist:

@kaithehero @liliannyah @andreasworlsboring101 @oatballsoffury @aberrant-annie @simplybree @adalina-perez @emage-king @yandereforyou @notactiveonmain @tvdplusriverdale

59 notes · View notes

hollandroos · 5 years

Text

Build Me Up (Buttercup)

My imagines ❀ My series

Summary: Tom receives a knock at his door at half-past one am from his bruised and bloodied best friend.

Prompts; “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?” (This was requested as a blurb but I got carried away)

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of physical fights, blood and drinking

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tom hardly seemed to sleep as of late. He was always typing emails to someone, working on one project or another or chasing after one of his friends. He didn’t seem to mind – especially when it came to seeing to his friends. If they needed him, he was there.

All he needed was coffee and a nap the next day.

But he didn’t expect the shrill ringing of his front door to flood the apartment at one twenty-six am. At first, he ignored it. Thinking it was a prank from neighbouring teens he shoves the nearest pillow over his head right after glancing at his phone only to see a few texts from Harrison and a game request from one of his brothers.

But when it rings for the third time he hauls himself out from beneath the sheets, groaning as the cold autumn air hits his bare chest. A shiver runs down the brunette's spine – one that makes him want to climb back into bed but Tessa had already rolled onto his spot, taking place where he once lay. He trusts that she’d shield the warmth until he got back from – most likely – warning off angsty teens at half-past one am.

Tom had to get to ‘em before Mary Jane across the street did with her bat.

Sighing, he pads out to the front door nearly tripping over clothes that long-needed washing and dog toys that he swears Tess lay in the hallway. Tom was totally one to curse but cricky – something about stepping on a chew toy in the dark makes him have to bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. This prevents him from yelling out a string of curses that’d make the neighbours hide their 6-year-old boy from Tom for the remainder of their lease.

Right outside the door, facing the bitter seasonal air stands you.

You slip your lip between your teeth right before tasting the crimson blood on your tongue. it’s gross - the taste reminds you of when you were in fourth grade and tripped and fell on your face. And when you had that dental operation in sixth.

You release it, screwing your face up instantly in disgust. By now the blood had probably stained the area around your mouth and beneath your nose, the bruising had probably painted your torso shades of purple and blue. Surely you looked a right mess, without a doubt. And you were tired too – so tired that you could sleep on the patio with Toms glass garden gnomes and the hedgehogs that visited every now and then.

You were cold too, the tips of your fingers numb and toes painfully so in your party heels. The dress you were wearing hardly did anything. You didn’t even have a coat.

Tom opens the door a crack, opening it fully when he sees you standing there but through that crack, one merely a few inches he doesn't see the extent of your injuries… or any of them. It’s not until the door is fully open that he feels his chest ache and questions begin to plague his mind.

“Holy shit– what…” Tom eyes you up and down, mouth falling open in shock and his knuckles tighten around the front door. Surely it’d splinter, that's how hard he was gripping it. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, wincing when the pain hits. “No.”

In any other situation you would’ve pointed out that he was damn near naked and if it wasn’t so dark out then little Mary Jane next door, the elderly who was always out doing her lawn would’ve been scarred. But in any other situation, you wouldn’t be standing on his doorstep drunk and pained.

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?” Tom says it a little more aggressively then he means too, with an almost hoarse tone. But he feels all traces of still being tired – whatever was left, slowly float away. That exhaustion turns into and in fact– fuels his anger.

You look broken, both physically and mentally and hardly able to even hold yourself up and with that realisation, he steps aside to let you hobble in. You hold yourself up with little energy, leaning against the wall to stop yourself from tumbling. Feeling as weak as you look, you want to ask for a glass of water or a blanket but all that comes out of your mouth is a string of words recalling the last hour.

“I was at that bar down the street and I got in a fight with this girl who thought that I was flirting with her boyfriend but really I was just asking him if I could borrow his phone because I lost my own and I still might be a little drunk–”

“Did you drive here?” Tom interrupts, checking if you were still holding your car keys. He doesn’t see any - and he doubts that even drunk you’d do something that stupid. But still, he has to check.

You shake your head, strands of hair sticking to your bloodied face. “No– no, of course not. I walked–”

“You walked?! Y/N, It’s like one am what the fuck?” Tom throws his arms over his head, raising his voice to the distaste of his poor neighbours. Tom hated the thought of you walking down the streets of London by yourself, drunk and cold. without a phone nor a companion. He would’ve walked you home in sweats and slippers if it meant you weren’t alone.

It leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. One that hadn’t seemed to leave since the very second he saw your broken form. It only escalated when you told him the story. Tom swears that if the feeling gets any worse he’ll quite literally throw up – hopefully on the patio and not the new, four hundred dollar rug in the middle of the living room.

“Relax, I’m okay. Besides, I think after tonight I’ve learnt that I throw a pretty mean punch.” You try your best to smile, wincing as you pull on the cut on your lip. “If you think this is bad you should’ve seen her.”

It’s a lie. You’re in way worse shape then the other girl but don’t say that out loud. At least not tonight. Usually, Tom would’ve been able to see right through your lies – after many years of friendship that was compulsory but not tonight. Maybe it was the alcohol that allowed you to lie to him so easily. Maybe your best friend was just more concerned with the bruises that littered icy skin to notice the tale tail signs of you slipping in a little dishonest information.

Tom rests a hand on your cheek, assessing the bruises. “Your eye is bruising pretty badly and your lip is split.”

“You should see my ribs.” You snort, words still a little bit slurred.

With wide eyes and a heart that skips not one– but possibly Tom beats, your tired best friend lets out an exasperated gasp.“What!”

“Relax, it’s not that bad.”

By morning, you’d regret the shots you took one after the other and dancing on tables like no one was watching (in reality… everyone was watching) and you’d probably regret causing your poor best friend enough stress to give him a heart attack. Silently, you’d regret trying to fight back with the drunk girl and you’d regret not taking up the bartenders offer of a couple of bags of ice and a free bottle of water to compensate.

“Just a little… a little bit sore.” You tell Tom swallowing the blood that stains your teeth with a queasy expression.

With that, you tug the underside of your dress up. It wasn’t anything Tom hadn’t seen before - not the injuries. You. Your body. Besides, it wasn’t hard to focus when bruises were blossoming on your torso. Appearing like daisies in spring.

“Fucking shit–”

You gasp at your friend's curses, blurting out a strong; “Language!”

“You need to go to the ER,” Tom tells you, wondering just how long you’d be able to stand on your feet for. The heels couldn’t be too comfortable.

You had long forgotten about the blisters that up until just recently, had been the causes of your wincing and whining.

Pressing a firm finger to the boy's chest, you prepare your next statement. Keep in mind that it’s early in the am’s. The moon illuminates the city instead of the familiar glow of the sun and everyone else was curled up in their beds, shielded by layers of cotton blankets and pets that guard the doors – asleep themselves. All except Tessa.

Yawning, you allow your eyes to flutter open and shut. Sleep sounded nice. It sounded marvellous. Sleeping next to Tom, entangled in a shirt of the boys and the familiar scent that had intertwined itself with his pillow sounded perfect.

“You need to let me sleep first.”

“Sleep after I’ve taken you to the ER.” Tom eyes you up and down, noticing the goosebumps that decorate your arms and the fact that your lips already looked a little discoloured – and not from the blood and bruises that paint your expression. “You can borrow some of my clothes so you don’t get cold. And maybe have a glass of water or two and a protein bar first.”

A pout replaces the purse that once adorned your features. “But sleep–”

“But you need to go the ER, I’m not letting you sleep when you may have a concussion and I’m most definitely not letting you go into work tomorrow.” Taking your hand carefully, Tom tangles your fingers together. It was a little thing the two of you did whenever one of you was nervous or hurt – a kind of ‘I’m here and I’m not leaving’ thing.

Tom sighs, noticing your face fall from what looked like a combination of exhaustion and slight disappointment. He didn’t want to disappoint you – he wants you to be safe. Fully aware of the alcohol making you a little more receptive to your current overwhelming abundance of emotions, Tom shakes his head.

“Now buttercup, go sit on the couch and I’ll grab you and me some clothes and some food. We could be there for a while.”

Tell me what you thought! + My writing ♡

Tagging mooties: @keepingupwiththeparkers @mcuspidey @spiderboytotherescue @naturallytom @screamholland @bi-writes @neptuneparker @stuckonspidey @dej-okay @ashisbaeee @spideypeach

Everything tags: @cosmetologynerd @holland-ish @smexylemony @dej-okay@hollandsletters @ive-got-some-lies-to-tell @liz-gayllen@marvelismylifffe@lovelyh0lland @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @woah-jess@southsidefandoms@justannothermonday @its-claire-louise@sophiatomlinson23 @mockingjaygirl1221@joyfullyjenny@damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight @bride-of-loki-odinson @in-the-corner-coffee-please@futuremrsb-r-main @spideyyypeter @saturn-aka-six@c0prolalia @buckykinz@ashtonsbandannas @dennasaur @amyyleblanc1999@fnosidam@randomfangirl1701@maybeandperhaps @acciorinn @marvel-language @micki-smiles@justmesadgirl @converseskyline @niall2017@gavemylifetotomholland @tomuchmarvel@leslieandjensen @painted-soulss@practicallylivesonline @mischiefmanaged49 @its-the-unknownspidey@holyrose96 @for-my-mind @mlxbm @erindillon11 @captainbuckyy @shawnandhisroses @converseskyline @smitten0-0kitten @parkeroos @whileinparis @unicornio-vomita-mierdas @draqcnheartstrinq @rainyboo-posts @mikalaka @petxrpxrker @tony-starks-ego @thedaydreamingwriter @peter-quackson @kateelyse96 @lesbian-jesus-jr @wheresmyquill@elyshugh@hollanderheart @tomshufflepuff @marvelismylifffe @tomsh0lland @obsessed-fandoms @girl-in-the-chair @trashqueenbitch @dramatic-and-young @honey-honey-5644@parkerluvs @chingonaconcha @captainbuckyy @jes-sica1@tomsfireheart @Rainbow-marvel @spideysimpossiblegirl @spideys-gurl@thomasstanley-holland @mlxbm @ixchel-9275@parkerssweb @peter-parkersbb @tom-hollands-eyelash @starlightfound @vldlvj @paradoxparker @lustfulcry @mlxbm @musiclover1263 @justatheatredork@peterparkerscamera@fandomnerdsarecool @thequeensardine @cutesy-angst@httplayer @mischiefmanaged49 @loca-lola @softboyparkerr @desir-ae @dangerousluv1 @t-hotland @laucontrerasv @peter-parkersbb@whatdafricklefrackle @thatblondebelgiangirl @fairydustparker @they-call-me-le @jamiemac26@nephalem67 @underoos-tom @quaxon-holland@lovelyspidey @no-shxt-sherl @xlatinaaxx@starlightfound @mikexpeter @moonandstars-xo @httpmcrvel @evelyn120700@fromheroestodust@hollandfieldblurbs @ghostlypandacolorpersona@spazclaiire @curlyhairedparker @josierosie@unicornio-vomita-mierdas @icondy@euphoricholland @desir-ae @lovelyspidey @thelazypangolin@ameeravioli@ramen-tically @mellifluous-tom @mrs-webslinger @krazykiara @scottyisthatyou@@s0cial-retard @sithskywalkers @avenirectioner @cokemania147@awkwardfangirl2014 @thot–holland @tomsmelanin @tryn25 @marvelismylifffe @fratboievans @draqcnheartstrinq @mellifluous-tom @obsidiandolans @peter-parkersbb @slingingwingingspidey @darlingxholland @50shadesoflaurmani @tomhollandswh0re @ixchel-9275 @hellaparker @vintagexquill @spidey-caps @parkerspideyman @particularnarry @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @magical-fandoms @chennyetomlinson @beautifullydisconnected

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader insert #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x y/n #peter parker

555 notes · View notes

argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Chapter 20

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~6100

Rating: R (language, explicit 30 diamond content)

Summary: Reunited

Author’s Note: Just one more chapter and the epilogue after this, folks.

This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

Drake didn’t know what to do, what to say. The greeting had been obvious, but now he stood there, just staring at her as she did the same. It was so uncomfortable, and Drake had no idea how to make it better. Maxwell and Liam had both said it was in his power to make things right. But they had way too much faith in him here. He was absolute shit when it came to talking about things. Feelings. Emotions. All that crap. Yet, that was what he had to do here. Man, he just knew he was gonna screw everything up.

Taking a deep breath, Drake tried to find some words. “Do you think… I mean… we should probably… why don’t we… I guess-”

“Come on,” said Riley, spinning on her feet, “I have a place we can go.”

Drake felt his eyebrows scrunching together at that. He hoped they would head back to her place, but maybe she didn’t want him there. Regardless, she was striding with purpose towards the escalators, so he grabbed his bag and hurried after her. He couldn’t get left behind.

He followed her, not to the train, as he’d expected, but to the taxi bay. He loaded his luggage into the trunk before joining her in the backseat. She sat behind the driver, fingers drumming on her knees. The middle seat between them felt like some sort of clear barrier. Drake kept glancing over at Riley, but felt like it would be wrong to reach out and touch her.

Every time she turned to look at him, he found himself quickly jerking his head over to look out the window. It was like they were back in the social season, back when he wouldn’t realize he was staring at her at some ball or bullshit event until she locked eyes with him. It had been an annoying realization back then - how much his eyes drifted to her.

The ride to wherever Riley had told the cab to go was shockingly short, so soon Drake was grabbing his suitcase out of the trunk, taking in their surroundings. He had no idea where they were. It didn’t feel like New York City. There was a giant parking lot off to one side, and a swath of brush to the other. Drake didn’t see any other people around. He would have been sure they’d left the city if the ride had been any longer.

“It’s just a bit of a walk,” said Riley, gesturing through the brush.

“Should I bring this with me?” asked Drake, holding up his suitcase.

“Shit, I didn’t think about your luggage,” she said, “But yeah, bring it with unless you want it stolen.”

So Drake hefted up his suitcase and followed Riley across the stretch of land until they reached a small beach. It was quiet and isolated, not at all the type of place Drake would imagine finding in this city. The wind whipped off the water carrying a cool moisture and adding a deeper chill to the late fall evening. He instinctively glanced over at Riley, noting that she was just wearing a sweater. Clearly, either she hadn’t planned on taking him here initially, or she just didn’t think things through at all. She was gonna freeze.

“Here,” said Drake, dropping his suitcase into the sand, “take a seat. I’ll get a bonfire started.”

After he gathered some scattered driftwood and dry brush for kindling, Drake pulled out his lighter, nursing the flames to life before making his way back over to Riley, sitting down on the relatively flat rock next to his suitcase. The fire wasn’t large, but the warmth from the flames helped somewhat.

He looked over at Riley. She didn’t look too cold, but she did have her sweater wrapped around her tightly. She was staring straight ahead, almost through the flames. She was silent for a long time. Drake wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk first, but since she was the one who wanted to come out here, he figured he would follow her lead, so he just sat there, staring out at the water with her.

“I used to come out here all the time when I was a teenager.”

Her words were quiet and small, but clear. Drake didn’t look at her. When she got like this, it was always because she was sharing something she’d rather forget, and he knew eye contact might scare her off at this point. So he just sat there, still and silent, waiting for her to continue.

“It was my mom’s fourth stint in prison, and I was with a family that lived not too far from JFK. The Grissoms. They were probably the worst foster family I was with. Nasty people, absolutely hated kids, just wanted the tax break. There were three other teenagers in the house and everyone was just mean and cruel. This one boy, Jason, was 16, and he stole all my clothes a couple of times and tried to get me to… well, let’s just say, I hated it there.

“So, I tried to run away. I figured I could keep getting food at school and just live on the streets, but little Chinese girls tend to get a lot of unwanted attention if they’re out at night, so I just kept moving until I found this place. I just wanted somewhere remote, somewhere where no one would find me. It was peaceful. No one was harassing me. I would watch the planes take off from JFK and feel like maybe someday I’d really be able to get away from it all. I don’t know, I guess it gave me hope. I managed four nights out here when I was fourteen before a couple found me and called the cops.

“I got moved to a different home, at least. The Grissoms didn’t want to deal with an ‘ungrateful runaway bitch’ so they told my case worker that I was causing problems, hitting the other kids in their home, stealing from them, that sort of shit. I don’t know if the case worker believed them, or if it was easier just to get me out of there to not have to deal with their complaints, but she placed me with a different family for the last couple of months of my mom’s sentence.

“But no matter where I went for the next few years, no matter what neighborhood I got placed in or if I was back in Chinatown with my mom, I would come out here when I wanted to be alone and just think. It’s quiet, you know, and there’s rarely anyone else here.

“I haven’t been back here in a few years. The last time was after my mother’s funeral, when I realized I was gonna have to drop out of college because I didn’t have a dime left to my name after her bare-bones funeral. But since then, I don’t know. I guess I just avoided thinking about things too deeply. It was easier just to drift along, never dealing with anything serious. Never letting things get serious.

“I probably should have come out here more, ya know? I should have maybe actually dealt with some of my shit. But Drake, you have to understand that my experience in Cordonia, getting to know you guys… well it was nothing like anything I’d ever had before. I’d never had friends who actually gave a damn about me. And sometimes it still feels like it’s all going to come crashing down and leave me all alone. I’ve always ended up alone before.

“I panicked when you told me you were going to stay in Cordonia, and I assumed that I would never see you again. But I shouldn’t have ignored all your texts. That was… well, a mad shitty thing to do. So I’m sorry.”

“Riley, come on. I should be the one apologizing,” Drake began, turning his head to face her, watching her shake her head lightly.

“For what? Spending a week and a half with your best friend after his father died while he was under threat of attack? Come on, Drake. You know that was a reasonable thing to do.” Her head dropped slightly at that, staring down at the sand beneath her feet.

“Maybe not for that,” Drake acquiesced, turning back to face the fire, “But for acting like I didn’t want to be here with you? For letting you think that I wanted out? Well, I could probably stand to apologize for that.”

He noticed Riley shift in his peripheral vision. He felt her eyes on him, her gaze practically burning a hole into the side of his head. She didn’t say a damn thing, though. Well, that must mean it was his turn to talk.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about… well, my life, I guess,” Drake started, dropping his head down to stare at his shoes. “I dunno, I think that I’ve been pretty… aimless, I guess is the right word, for about eight years. All I’ve really done is just kinda vaguely be there for Liam.

“Liam… well he kind of pointed out that I often tried to keep things that were bothering me from him. He just had so much stressful shit on his plate already, I didn’t ever want to add to that, you know? But he said it didn’t do us any favors in the long run that I kept everything hidden away. He was right, of course. It turned our friendship into some sort of duty in my mind. And that’s not fucking healthy. Since I left university, I’ve basically made myself his emotional guardian at the expense of every fucking other thing in my life.

“And I was really damn good at it. It turns out that I’m a fucking champ at repressing all the shit I’m feeling. At least I was until I dumped years of crap on Liam the day you left Cordonia.”

“Drake, are you guys…?” she asked, reaching over and grabbing his wrist. It was the first time she’d touched him since she’d gotten on that plane, and even though she was trying to be reassuring and gentle, he still almost felt as if her fingers carried an electric jolt. He swallowed roughly, trying to gain a better grasp on his emotions. Talking about all this shit was hard enough without him freaking out like a thirteen year old whose crush waved at him.

“We’re okay now. He uhhh… well, he had a bunch of shit to unload on me, too.”

“About… us?”

Drake glanced over at Riley. She looked so nervous, her brow furrowed and her lips scrunched together. She obviously felt guilty that she might have in any way played a role in the shit that went down between him and Liam. Drake’s instinct was to reassure her, tell her what she needed to hear to get that look off her face. But hiding the truth because it wouldn’t be pleasant for her was the type of shit he knew he needed to stop doing. So he took a deep breath and started talking again.

“I mean, that was part of it. More so that I didn’t tell him something was going on between us earlier than us actually being together, but yeah. We were… a topic of conversation. But Liu, it went a lot deeper than us. I mean, we both had stuff from years and years ago we threw at each other. Shit from long before we even met you.

“I told you about the assassination attempt, how I left university to be there for him and all that? Well, I don’t think I ever really let myself move on from that decision. I just fucked around for almost a decade. I didn’t make life plans, I didn’t move forward. I just was there for Liam. And somewhere along the way, I don’t know, I stopped even thinking about what I might want out of life. It’s like I didn’t let myself have a future.

“I guess I kind of fell into this pattern where I just hung around in case Liam needed me for something. I didn’t give it much thought. I don’t know. I just kind of… existed. I was really stuck. But then you came along, and I got to know you. It actually felt like someone got me. I could talk to you. I could drink with you. I didn’t hate myself when I was around you, and for the first time in a long time, I wanted something for myself.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when he realized how bad they sounded. He scrambled, quickly saying, “Shit. Liu, I didn’t mean that I saw you as some sort of object to own or keep or-” but Riley squeezed the wrist she was still holding, sliding her hand down into his, effectively cutting off his rambling apology.

“I know what you meant, Drake.”

He nodded and took another deep breath, “Right. Well, you know all this anyway. As much as I wanted to be with you, I just didn’t feel like there was any way you would ever want to be with me. Not when Liam was right there, and certainly not when no woman had ever wanted to stick around before. So I shoved you away. I pushed you towards Liam. But even with all that shit, you still somehow saw me. You stuck around. And I’m not used to anyone sticking around.”

Drake let his words hang there, the wind whipping across the beach and the crackle of the bonfire the only sounds. He was tempted to light up a cigarette, something to distract himself from the weird mix of emotions he was experiencing from talking about all of this, but Riley kept holding onto his hand. And if she wasn’t letting go, he certainly wasn’t going to either, particularly for something as trivial as a cigarette. So they just sat there together. It was a few minutes before Riley spoke again.

“I feel the same way, Drake. Before this past year, I didn’t have anyone I was even remotely close to. I never talked about my past with any of my friends, if you can even call them that. And sometimes the way you look at me, the way you listen to me, well… it scares the shit out of me. Because I finally know what it feels like to have someone understand me and still care about me, and all my mind does is worry how I am going to go back to not having someone like that in my life when I end up all alone. Because that’s what’s always happened before - I end up all alone.”

Drake wanted to wrap his arm around her, assure her that he was never going anywhere, but just like he hadn’t believed her during the social season or on the engagement tour when she said she wanted him, not Liam, he knew that ultimately, his words would do little to eliminate years of pain, worry, and insecurity. That healing from that and moving forward was not going to magically happen because he loved her. If it did, he probably wouldn’t have wasted so much time shoving her away from him and towards Liam.

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” she asked, leaning against his side, placing her head on his shoulder.

“Heh. Well, at least we understand where the other one’s coming from.”

He could feel her cheek raising as she smiled, and it brought a smile to his own face. “Hana told me I should stop acting out of fear just to avoid the possibility of anything negative. And I’m trying, Drake. I really am. But it’s hard for me, and I can’t promise that it won’t take a long time for me to get there.”

She pulled away slightly, so Drake turned his head. Her dark eyes were staring at him, staring straight through him almost.

“That’s fine with me,” he said, “I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

“Drake…”

“Seriously, Liu. I think it’s clear after tonight that we both are trying to make some changes for the better in our lives. I could have just as easily told you that it was going to take me a long time to figure out what I want to do with my life going forward. So, what do you say? Are you okay with me being a nearly 30 year old unemployed man without a degree who’s trying to figure his shit out?”

She nodded gently, reaching out to cup his cheek with her free hand. Drake closed his eyes at her touch, feeling like weight after weight had been shed with their conversation. When he opened his eyes, she was there, looking at him expectantly.

He leaned forward at the same time she did, and when they finally kissed, it wasn’t desperate or intense. It was calm, like they were testing the waters, rediscovering each other in light of everything. And for now, it felt like more than enough. They might be stumbling forward in their lives, but it was clear they both wanted to do so with each other.

When they broke apart, Drake pressed his forehead against hers, trying to soak her in. “Riley…”

“We face our struggles together from now on, right?”

“Yeah, Liu. Together sounds good.”

She pulled away from him and pushed herself off his suitcase, extending her hand to him and helping him to his feet as well, “Why don’t you put out the fire, and I’ll call us a ride. I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to go home.”

The cab ride into Manhattan, back to her apartment, was a much different sort of silent from the one an hour earlier. Riley sat right next to him, clutching the hand he’d flung over her shoulder, leaning up to kiss him every so often. They got stuck in traffic several times, but the tension and stress of earlier was gone. For all the work that lay ahead of both of them, it just felt nice to know that they wanted to go through it as a couple.

When they finally arrived at her building, Riley told him she was going to go check the mail while he grabbed his suitcase. After paying the driver, Drake made his way to the building entrance. He moved to pull his keys out of his pocket, but Riley noticed him and pushed the door open for him, a small frown on her face and a little slip of paper in her other hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a delivery attempt notification. It was taped to the mailbox. It says they tried to deliver a package that was too big for the parcel box, but I didn’t order anything.”

“Oh, well… that’s probably for me.”

She turned and stared at him, her forehead deeply wrinkled as she gave her head a little shake, but she said nothing, so Drake quickly scrambled to explain himself.

“Yeah, so I couldn’t fit some of the things I’d packed up in my luggage. I just put your address, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you ahead. Bastien must have rush shipped them-”

Her lips were on his, his back hitting the metal of the mailboxes on the opposite wall and his suitcase falling to the ground before he could fully process Riley lunging at him. Unlike the kisses at the beach or in the cab, this was raw. Aggressive. Possessive. He felt himself responding before he could even fully mentally process what was going on, his hands sliding across her waist and down to her ass, holding her tight against him. She clung to his jacket, tugging him off the wall just slightly.

It was all fire and heat, intense enough to burn away the last traces of stilted awkwardness that had settled over their dynamic. Drake felt like his hands were moving of their own accord, tracing over her body, grabbing, pulling, cementing her as close to him as possible. At some point, he slid his hands down her back, over her ass and to her thighs, at which point she jumped just enough to wrap her legs around his hips as he held her tight.

After a few more moments of desperate kissing, Drake took a step forward, ready to move things upstairs. But he’d barely started to walk when he felt his balance completely falter as his foot collided with something. He didn’t have time to give Riley much of a warning, just tearing his lips away from hers as he yelled out “What the fuck?” His grip on her slipped and she tumbled off his hips and onto the floor with a surprised little yelp as Drake stumbled into the wall next to him.

“Riley, are you okay?” he asked, cringing as he moved aside his suitcase, the source of their current predicament. He crouched down next to her, scanning over her quickly, looking for any injuries, but Riley just threw her head back and laughed. After a few seconds, when he was sure the most damaged thing was his ego, Drake joined her, chuckling deeply.

“Moves like that are always a bit sexier in the movies, huh?” she choked out between her bouts of laughter. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t think we would have made it up three flights of stairs like that.”

“Are you doubting my strength, Liu?”

“No, but after that demonstration, I am doubting your coordination.”

Drake just shook his head. He ran a hand over his face before extending it to her, helping her to her feet as he stood up. She kept holding onto his hand, even when he took a small step away from her to pick up the suitcase that had interrupted them.

“You think you’re up to try walking again?” she asked, her eyes wide in mock-innocence.

“Oh ha ha.”

“Come on,” she said, tugging him along behind her up the narrow staircases and down the hallway to her apartment. She didn’t let go of his hand until she had to get her keys out. But she unlocked the door swiftly, then grabbed his hand again, pulling him in and closing the door.

Her lips were back on his in an instant, her hands grabbing the suitcase from him and setting it on the floor right by the door before she started pushing against his shoulders, navigating him backwards towards the bed. In two steps he felt the mattress against the back of his legs, so he sat down, his hands settling on her waist as she straddled him a moment later.

She rolled her hips down against him as she tugged her sweater over her head, leaving her in a simple black tank top, before she kissed him again, dropping her hands to his shoulders. He ran his hands through her hair, moving his lips across her jaw to her neck, desperate to retaste every square centimeter of her body. The little groan she let out only drove him on further, bucking his hips up against her.

It didn’t take long for the heat building between them to escalate, both of them grabbing, biting, pulling. As she slid her hands under his shirt and dragged her nails across his stomach, he tugged her tank top off. In an instant, her lips were back on his, rough and demanding as he dragged his hands across her torso, cupping her breasts.

From that point, it was a scramble to get all their remaining clothing off. As Riley hopped off his lap to shimmy out of her jeans, Drake threw his shirt onto the floor and started to undo his belt, but he was distracted when Riley scampered over to the closet. She opened the door and crouched down in just her bra and panties, clearly digging through something.

“Uhh, Liu? What the fuck are you doing?”

After a few seconds, she spun around, holding up a foil packet in triumph. “Looking for this,” she said as she walked back over to the end of the bed, “unless you don’t want to have sex tonight?”

“You don’t have to take so much pleasure in teasing me, you know.”

“Well, unless you give me another pleasure, it’s all I’ve got,” she said, grabbing his belt buckle and pulling him up to standing.

“God, your dirty talk is terrible,” he laughed, but it quickly turned into a groan as she undid his jeans and slid her hand over the front of his boxers.

“Yeah, thought that might stop your complaints,” she said, throwing him a wink as she yanked down his pants and pushed on his chest, nudging him back toward the bed. He pulled her panties off as he sat down, tugging her onto his lap as he slid fully onto the bed.

His fingers fell between her legs and he started stroking her as she groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him sloppily. He moved his hand slightly to slide a finger inside her, but she pulled away and shook her head.

“I just want to be closer to you right now, okay?” she said as she handed him the condom and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. Drake had wanted to take his time with her, but her request was so sweet, so much more vulnerable than he was used to seeing her, that he just nodded, kicking off his boxers and rolling on the condom, and then she wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself onto him.

They both groaned at the sensation, Riley dropping her face to the crook of his neck and clawing her hands into his back. She clung to him tightly as she started to ride him, Drake raising his hips to match her rhythm and wrapping his arms around her. It was like they both were desperate to somehow be closer to each other, even though they were touching everywhere already. Riley eventually pulled her head back, sliding one hand up into his hair and staring right into his eyes before she tipped her head slightly and kissed him roughly.

It was overwhelming, feeling her wrapped around literally every part of him. He wasn’t sure if anything in his life had ever felt this damn good. It wasn’t the best sex he’d ever had, but somehow it just felt like more. A stray thought drifted through his mind that it felt like being home, but a slight tug on his hair from Riley as she ground against him drove everything but his physical pleasure from his mind.

“Riley,” he breathed out, “I’m not… gonna last. Are you… are you close?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip as she slid one hand off of his shoulder and down to just above where they were joined. He felt her fingers moving between their bodies, in time with their thrusts, and he closed his eyes, trying to stave off his inevitable release until she got there. He didn’t have to wait long, because a few moments later, she was clenching around him as she moaned out one of the most erotic noises he’d ever heard. He clutched at her hip and thrust up into her wildly, joining her as he fell over the edge, muttering her name into her neck over and over and slumping back against the wall behind him.

They stayed tightly wrapped around each other for several long moments, neither seeming to want to end their connection, but eventually, Drake felt Riley shift off him, moving her legs slightly, causing Drake to realize he kind of had her trapped. He leaned forward and she unwrapped her legs, sliding back further and straddling his knees as she stretched a bit. Drake grabbed the condom and leaned over to toss it into the trash. With his movements, he noticed Riley rising up as if to move away from him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as he clutched her wrist, finishing disposing of his mess and leaning forward to kiss her gently.

She smiled at him lightly once he pulled back, “It felt like you were trying to move.”

“Hell no. I’m not going anywhere,” he sighed out, sliding down and sinking into her crappy ass mattress, pulling her down to lay on top of him, her arms sprawling around his head and her legs tangling with his, “I’ve never been more comfortable.”

They laid like that, calm and relaxed for several minutes, Drake tracing his hand along her spine and Riley playing with his hair. It was so peaceful, Drake nearly felt himself drifting off to sleep when Riley spoke.

“Not to kill the mood, but I don’t think we can stay here.”

Drake shook his head, trying to follow her train of thought. He still felt stupid, like he was drunk, on her, on them, on being together, so it wasn’t surprising that his response was far from eloquent. “Huh?”

Riley smiled and batted her eyelashes before she answered, “I don’t mean we have to go anywhere right now. But I don’t think this apartment is going to work well for us going forward.”

“This is what you were thinking about during sex?”

“No, it’s what I’m thinking about after sex. What I didn’t let myself think about while you were gone.” She trailed off at the end, burying her face in his chest. Drake understood these admissions weren’t easy for her, to talk about the uncomfortable realities instead of just marching forward and pretending everything was just fine, so he tried to soothe her, running his hand between her shoulder blades and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Okay, so why can’t we stay here?”

“Drake, do I really have to tell you that?” she asked, pushing up slightly to look him in his eyes. “There’s barely enough space for one person here, much less two plus a dog.”

At the mention of Anderson, Drake lifted his head up, glancing around the studio, “Hey, where is your dog?”

Riley laughed at that, “You’re just noticing he isn’t here now?”

“I had a few other things on my mind when we got up here.”

She laughed harder, “No, I think you had one thing on your mind. To answer your question, Daniel had been asking me to take Anderson for a weekend. He and his boyfriend have been talking about getting a dog, and they wanted to do a trial run. This weekend seemed like a good choice.”

“So, you’re telling me it’s just the two of us for the next two days?” His hand trailed down her back and across her hip with his question, ready to continue reacquainting himself with her body, but she playfully swatted at his chest.

“Yes, so there will be time for more of that later, after we finish talking about this.”

“What’s to talk about? You just said we don’t have to go anywhere tonight. I agree. Let’s not leave this bed.”

“Drake! I’m serious, what do you think about us finding a different apartment when the lease is up?”

Drake shrugged slightly, “I can’t say I’ve thought about it at all. Why do you want to move, anyway?”

“Well, there’s the whole size thing like I said. Also, you know, you hate it here.”

“I don’t hate it-”

“Yeah, you do. I love being this close to bars and restaurants, but you hate the noise and the crowds. Plus, they keep you up at night, and I hate to break it to you, but when you’re sleep deprived, you cross the line from lovable grump to straight up asshole.”

Drake just shook his head, “But like you said, you love this location. I’m not gonna ask you to leave it.”

“You aren’t asking, Drake. I’m bringing it up. And as the person here who actually has some experience living in different parts of the city, I think we should move somewhere that’s a fit for the two of us.”

“Liu we can barely afford this place. How the hell are we supposed to afford a bigger apartment?”

“I don't know if you realize this, but New York City does have more neighborhoods than the Lower East Side.”

“Haha,” he replied dryly. “I seem to remember the rental costs all over the island were obscene.”

“Well I know you're practically a native New Yorker at this point, what with your one month of living here, but there are other boroughs besides Manhattan.”

Drake widened his eyes, thinking back on everything she had said about Brooklyn, Queens, basically any place that wasn't Manhattan. Riley, upon seeing his reaction, just rolled her eyes.

“I may have been a touch dramatic in the past in regards to the surrounding metro area.”

“Well, that’s the motherfucking understatement of the year. You said that living in New Jersey was the same as choosing to live in a fucking armpit.”

“I stand by that statement. But I am willing to move out of Manhattan to get us a little more space and you a little more quiet.”

“But you’ve always said you're a Manhattan native.”

“So maybe it’s time to try something new.”

“Liu, you work four blocks from here.”

“Well, good thing that there’s this little thing called the subway that I could take to get to and from work.”

“But this is a convenient, practical location that you obviously chose for a reason. I won’t have you giving that up just because you think I’m uncomfortable here or whatever.”

Riley shrugged, “You gave up Cordonia for me. This is nothing.”

“But, Liu-”

“And,” she continued, ignoring his attempts to cut her off, “I don’t just think you’re uncomfortable here. I know you are. Drake, to this day you keep referring to it as my apartment. I don’t think you’ve called it ‘ours’ even once. You’re right, this location works for me. But it doesn’t work for you, and that means it won’t work for us. Someone very wise once told me that relationships require compromise and that there would be a time going forward where I would be in the better position to make that compromise. So I’m making it.”

Drake blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around this turn of events. She was putting them first, something she’d done time and time over, but it still humbled him, to think that someone like her would see enough value in him to make sacrifices to accommodate him. But she had always seen him as better, more deserving, than he saw himself. And maybe it wouldn’t do well to question whatever good luck had put him in this place, to meet someone like her.

“Someone wise, huh?”

“He can be. When he’s not being a stubborn idiot.”

Drake let out a few chuckles at that. “I’ll take it. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to move to accommodate my grumpy ass.”

“Drake, don’t you want a place that feels like it’s ours? Why are you fighting me on this?”

“Because I’m an insecure mess who doubts anything good in his life,” ran through his mind, but he knew she was right. “As long as you’re sure, Riley.”

“I am. You aren’t going to talk me out of this, Drake Walker. You should know, you aren’t very good at talking me out of anything.”

“Really.”

‘Absolutely. I’m almost as stubborn as you, so you’re at a disadvantage from the start. And really, look at your track record. You repeatedly tried to talk me out of falling for you, and we know how that turned out.”

“I am rather glad you ignored me on that one.”

With that, she leaned down, tossing her hair to the side and kissing him again. He clutched her neck, moaning as she deepened the kiss. Eventually she pulled back, bracing herself on her elbows above him.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

He swallowed roughly, her long black hair forming a surreal sort of curtain off to the side, her face the only thing he really saw. “Yeah, I do. I love you, too.”

Permatag: @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie @octobereighth

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr #the royal romance #choices fanfiction #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #n*fw #30 diamonds

36 notes · View notes

imagine-riverdale · 4 years

Text

Family-Sweet Pea Imagine

The leaves were changing colors in early October, the wind getting chillier, and Morgana was getting excited, not only was her birthday in Autumn, but she had also met her favorite people in the season, though it had been years ago now, she still loved the fall. So, it wasn’t really a surprise to the Serpents when she showed up to their second week at Riverdale High wearing a sweater under her honorary Serpent jacket, and he brown riding boots with her light washed ripped skinny jeans. Though, it did surprise the rest of Riverdale High, to see the normally tough girl, dressing more normal in the eyes of Riverdale, it surprised them so much that some of them began looking past the jacket she wore, especially seeing as they all knew by now that she was only considered one because of whom she was dating.

“Good morning.” Morgana grinned hopping up next to her boyfriend, her brown her braided into a fishtail over her shoulder.

“Ah, October, another month with the cheerful Morgana.” Fangs teased his friend as Sweet Pea wrapped his arm over his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Hey, October is the best month there is!” Morgana stated as Sweet Pea passed his coffee to Morgana, which she grinned up at him for. “Thank you.” She turned back to Fangs. “Besides, October is the month I met you fools, our friendiversary is coming up.”

“We still doing movies at my place?” Toni asked coming up to the group of Serpents whom were standing in the hallway.

“I’m down, Friday at six?” Morgana asked wrapping an arm around Sweet Pea before taking a drink of her coffee. “We still doing the sleepover?”

“Definitely!” Fangs stated not giving anyone a chance to change their mind.

“We’re going to be a little late.” Sweet Pea stated. “Someone is forgetting, Friday they have to pick up their sister from the airport.” Fangs looked at Morgana who groaned.

“I wasn’t forgetting, I was hoping you would though.” Morgana whined as the four began heading towards the student lounge. “I don’t get why she had to choose now to come home.” She mumbled as they all entered the lounge.

“Who’s coming home?” Jughead asked sitting at the couch and glancing over at the people he was slowly beginning to call friends.

“My twin sister.” Morgana stated sitting onto the couch with a huff. “She’s pretends she’s better than all of us in the Southside, just because she left to go to school in California.” Morgana rolled her eyes. “She’s crazy smart and got into a boarding school with a full ride. She’s a bitch, she only comes around during holiday’s and this year she decided she was coming for our birthday.” Looking at the coffee in her hands she passed it back to Sweet Pea.

“Melissa has always been, headstrong.” Toni stated as Morgana scoffed.

“Headstrong? More like bitch Toni, Melissa never belonged on the Southside, she was and is a stuck-up bitch, everything has to revolve around her, always has, always will with my family.” Morgana crossed her legs as Sweet Pea sat on the couch next to her.

“You’ll be fine, it’s only for two weeks Morgana.” Fangs stated. “Plus, Melissa is hot.” Fangs stated glancing a look to Sweet Pea who nodded along with his best friend.

“Excuse me?” Morgana crossed her arms and looked to her boyfriend.

“Hey, the Saxe sisters are hot.” Sweet Pea held his hands up as Morgana scoffed.

“Well if Melissa is so hot, why don’t you go date her Sweets.” Morgana narrowed her eyes at him. “I mean she had a crush on you when she was at Southside.”

“Really?” There was a hint of amusement which Morgana caught.

“Yep.” She said popping the ‘p’ before standing. “I’ll see you later.” Morgana grabbed her bag and exited the lounge quickly.

“You’re an idiot.” Toni stated hitting Sweet Pea and following Morgana. “Wait up M.” Morgana slowed down as Toni fell into step with her. “He’s crazy about you, you know that.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he called my sister hot, right in front of me.” She stated. “For once I want to come before Melissa, it’s always been Melissa this, Melissa that. I thought I could actually have friends who would choose me over her, I see not.”

“Morgana.” Toni shook her head. “None of us like Melissa, hell I fought her in the fourth grade for pulling your hair, and I didn’t even know you. Sweet Pea is an idiot and so is Fangs, but Sweet Pea loves you, hell you guys have been together for almost two years.”

“I hate her Toni, she ruins everything for me, what if she tries to take Sweet Pea?” Morgana began tugging on the ends of her Serpent jacket.

“Well that’ll never happen.” Sweet Pea said behind Morgana. “That jacket your wearing.” He stated. “Symbolizes my love for you, we don’t give those to just anyone, you know, you’re a rare case Saxe.” Morgana turned to her boyfriend with a small smile. “I don’t want your sister or anyone else for that matter.” Morgana hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“I think you’re stuck with me Sweets.” Morgana teased.

“Can’t we just go back to Toni’s.” Morgana whined holding her boyfriend’s arm as they stood inside the airport waiting for Melissa. “Pleaseee.” Sweet Pea shook his head causing Morgana to groan.

“Babe, we’re picking up your sister.” He reminded her.

“Can I persuade you to get back in the truck and go back to your place?” She asked leaning up and pressing her lips to his neck.

“Morggie!” Morgana heard the high-pitched voice that belonged to her twin, Melissa Saxe.

“Mel.” Morgana turned to her sister, Sweet Pea’s arm around her wait. “Welcome home.”

“Home?” Melissa laughed. “California is home, this is,” Looking around Melissa made a face. “Riverdale.” She shrugged her eyes finally falling on Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea, what brings you around?”

“How else do you plan on getting home Mel? Sweets and I are giving you a ride, mom and dad both had to work.”

“You and Sweet Pea?” She looked between the two. “This has to be a joke, no way, you two, together, no.” She shook her head

“Melissa.” Morgana hissed. “Grab your shit and let’s go.” Taking Sweet Pea’s hand, she dragged him back outside and to his truck. “You fucking owe me for talking me into this shit Pea.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll make it worth your while.” He teased wrapping his arms around her as they waited for Melissa to grab the last of her things.

“Oh yeah?” Leaning up, Morgana wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. “Tell me how.”

“Well first,” Sweet Pea got cut off when Melissa walked to the truck complaining.

“Service here sucks.” The ride back to the Southside where the Saxe family home was, was quiet besides Melissa’s rambling on about California, most of which Morgana ignored as she played with Sweet Pea’s hand that rested on her leg.

“Home sweet home.” Morgana stated as they pulled up to their parents house.

“You’re not coming in?” Melissa asked once she got out of truck and noticed her baby sister not moving.

“No, I have plans tonight, which mom and dad both knew.”

“So, I have to be here alone? Can’t I hang out with you guys?” Melissa’s voice became whiny as she glanced at Sweet Pea.

“No, we have plans Melissa, they don’t involve you.” Morgana stated getting out and helping Melissa grab her bags from the back of the truck. “We’ve had these plans for a month.” She stated.

“Fine.” Melissa huffed. “So you’ll be back tonight?”

“Melissa, I don’t live here.” Morgana basically lived at Sweet Pea’s trailer. “I stay here like twice a week.” Melissa groaned and made her way inside as Morgana and Sweet Pea headed over to Toni’s for their movie night.

That weekend Morgana spent with her parents and sister as her mother insisted they needed ‘family bonding’ time, not like she could spend time with Sweet Pea or Fangs, as they were out of town on Serpent business, so when Monday rolled around Morgana quickly readied for school at her parents house before grabbing the keys to Sweet Pea’s truck that he left with her that weekend as he was taking his bike with him.

“Not so fast Morgana Saxe.” Morgana’s mother stopped her on her way out the door. “Your sister is returning to Riverdale High, you’re to take her with you.” Morgana groaned.

“Whatever.” She grabbed her honorary Serpent jacket and moving towards the truck where Melissa was standing waiting for her. “Get in.” The two drove in silence until arriving at school. “You need help or anything?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Melissa climbed out and Morgana groaned before heading into the school and meeting the Serpents in the Student Lounge.

“Hey.” Morgana fell onto the couch next to Toni and Fangs.

“The evil witch leave yet?” Fangs asked as Morgana rolled.

“She’s enrolled at Riverdale High now, thanks for asking. Where’s Pea?” She asked not noticing her very tall boyfriend.

“He was running late.” Toni stated. “It was a long weekend.” Morgana sat up straighter.

“Is he okay? Fangs.” Morgana turned to Fangs. “What happened and don’t you dare lie to me.” Fangs looked to Toni and stuttered. “Fangs!”

“Alright! He was stabbed jeez!” He stood up and held his hands up as Morgana shot off the couch just as Melissa came in and moved towards her sister.

“Morg,”

“And you didn’t think to call me!? Where is he?” Just as she asked Sweet Pea stepped into the lounge.

“Woah, what’s going on?” His voice rang out causing Morgana to rush towards him.

“You idiot.” She looked him over before noticing his hand holding his left side. “Let me see it.”

“Fang.” Sweet Pea glared at his friend before looking at his girlfriend. “I’m fine, stop fussing,”

“Stop fussing? Stop fussing! You absolute idiot.” Morgana hit his chest. “You get stabbed and tell me to stop fussing? You’re insane!” Throwing her arms up.

“I’m fine.” He assured her. “Bobby patched me up.” Morgana sighed before hugging her boyfriend.

“Don’t think for a second I’m not calling Bobby to confirm.” She mumbled before the two sat on the couch together. “What’s up Melissa?” Morgana finally asked her sister who had taken a seat on the couch across from her.

“Oh, uh, I don’t really know anyone here and we have like a half hour before class…” Melissa trailed off.

“Mel.” Morgana sat up. “Sitting with us,” Motioning to all the Serpents in the lounge at the present time. “is going to give you a bad rep.” Looking around Melissa shrugged.

“You’re my sister, I stand by you no matter what.” Morgana was taken back by Melissa’s honestly.

“Really?”

“I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I want to change that, we’re twins after all, we should be the best of friends.” Morgana nodded. “I love you Morg.”

“I love you too Mel.” Morgana smiled at her sister before leaning into Sweet Pea. “Tell me what happened.” Turning her attention to her boyfriend who groaned.

“I can’t, Serpents only.” Jughead walked in as Sweet Pea said that.

“Hey Juggy.” Morgana batted her eyelashes at the young Serpent King. “How did my boyfriend get stabbed? And if you dare lie to me, I swear to god Jughead,”

“Fine, it was a deal gone bad, guy wanted to buy hard stuff, said we didn’t sell it, fight broke out, he stabbed me, happy?” Sweet Pea groaned as Morgana smiled slightly before glancing to Fangs. “Fangs didn’t get hurt, I got in front of him so he wouldn’t get stabbed.” Morgana’s smile widened.

“You idiot.” She shook her head before kissing her boyfriend.

Morgana and Melissa’s birthday came around, both had a party together, which their parents threw, before Morgana disappeared with Sweet Pea, and headed over to the Wyrm. At the Wyrm there was a second party, one strictly for Morgana.

“Happy birthday beautiful.” Sweet Pea whispered once everyone yelled surprise, causing Morgana to turn and hug her boyfriend.

“I love you.” She said before moving through the crowd of people. Standing and looking around Morgana knew that this was where she belonged, this was her family.

As always thank you for reading my loves! I have a few more that I’m working on, hopefully they’ll be up within the next few weeks!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR ALL RIVERDALE CHARACTER

#sweetpea imagine #Sweetpeaimagine #sweet pea x oc #riverdale imagine #southside serpent imagine

63 notes · View notes

kaveija · 4 years

Note

if you don’t mind me asking here too 🤣 but could you possibly write about wayv’s reaction to y/n burning their tongue (not like severely) while cooking for them i feel so selfish for asking sm heH you have complete creator freedom thank u 💕

Omg no problem ❤️❤️❤️ I rarely get asks so I’m incredibly honored 🥴 also I changed it a little because my cooking knowledge is slim to none but I hope that you still like this 🥺🥺

WayV Reacting to You Burning Your Tongue

Kun

“Ah!” Your fingers quickly touched the tip of your tongue. This was the fourth time this week that you’ve burned your tongue with hot tea, and it’s almost like you’ll never learn.

Kun, your boyfriend of six months, was sitting on the couch when your sudden outburst caught his attention.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He stood up and was by your side in an instant.

“Im oathay.” You slurred, your tongue hanging half way out of your mouth.

Kun’s worried expression turned into relief. “You’re such a dork, my angel.”

He placed a kiss on your forehead before reaching in the freezer and dropping two ice cubes in your cup.

“Be careful from now on, okay?”

Sicheng

You tried to contain the tears that gathered in your eyes as you faced away from your lover. Time and time again he would remind you when something was hot, yet his amazing cooking skills and mouth watering display caused you to ignore it every time.

This time it was home made tomato soup, sided with a four cheese grilled sandwich.

The soup it’s self was a beautiful blood orange color, swirls of cream and seasonings coated the top. You wasted no time in shoving a spoonful in your mouth, regretting it immediately. You swallowed and held a poker face to Sichengs knowing eyes. He already had a cup of ice at hand, knowing darn well you put food before your own safety.

“I swear you’re gonna do this till your tongue falls off.” He smiled, holding the frosted glass out to you.

You grabbed it and placed the cold surface against your tongue, sighing as the fresh feeling wiped out the stinging you felt moments earlier.

“You know me too well.” You spoke softly, now able to form coherent words.

“Well of course, if I’m gonna be taking care of you the rest of your life, I better prepare myself now, hm?”

Ten

“Just one sip”

“In a minute babe, it’s still hot.”

“But that’s when it tastes the best...”

“No, be patient.”

Patience? We don’t know her. You waited till his eyes were off you when your mitten covered hands reached for the mug of hot chocolate. Your boyfriend makes it special with a shot of butterscotch vodka, soothing it’s way down your throat. Except it didn’t this time. It burned going down. The high temperature of the liquid stuck with your tongue, all your taste buds disappearing.

“Y/N!” Ten groaned when you let out a soft whine, tongue grasped in between your thumb and forefinger. “I told you to be patient...”

He picked up a small ball of snow from the ground, gently pressing it to your tongue until the pain washed away.

“Better?” He asked.

“Better.” You pouted.

He chucked before swooping in for a quick kiss, casually returning to the camp fire after making sure you were okay.

Lucas

“Uh oh.” You groaned, pressing your tongue against the cool glass of your bedroom window. Why you felt the need to take that dumb dare, you have no idea. Who the hell puts their tongue over a lighter to ‘see if it would catch flame?’. You. You are that idiot that fell for your little bothers stupid pestering.

“Babe.” Lucas called out to you, engrossed in your window licking. “Babe.” He called out again after you ignored his first chime. You weren’t ready to face his teasing. You already felt pretty dumb, but you’d never admit it.

“Do you want some ice?” You could here the smile in his voice.

“Eh.” You groaned out.

“Are you sure?” He was grinning widely now.

“Em..” You turned around, tongue still throbbing. “I’m a big girl, I got thith.”

You fumbled with your words and plopped yourself in his lap, still wanting his comfort. He chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair.

“My little weirdo.”

Hendery

Hendery held your gaze as you lifted the coffee mug to your lips. Under the table, his hands played with the ice pack he’d already prepared. That coffee was just removed from the pot, and it was enough to burn your skin, let alone you’re tongue.

The twitch of your eye was a signal that you’d just burnt yourself. You quickly set the cup down and began fanning your tongue. He reached across the table, handing you an ice pack. You placed the cold item against your tongue and hummed in pleasure. Seconds passed before offense crossed your features.

Your boyfriends black face slowly turned into a smirk.

“How long have you been holding that ice pack.” You pegged it at him after fully recovering.

Hendery laughed and tossed the pack into the sink, making a mental not to wash it before placing it back in the freezer.

“We’ve been together how long?” He shook his head. “Almost every morning you burn your tongue.”

You blinked, ignoring the honesty he threw at you.

“You’re so mean.” You whined.

Hendery only smiled and reached to lace his fingers with yours.

“You still love me though.”

You sighed. “That, I do.”

YangYang

You were curled up on the couch, face buried in some math book your professor assigned to you. You’d been studying for the past two hours, yet your focus never faltered.

“I made tea, fresh off the stove!” Your boyfriend came in, two small mugs in his hand. You only half paid attention, reaching for the mug and pulling it to your lips.

“Oh!” You gasped, tongue throbbing to the pace of your heartbeat. Tears threatened to fall at the shocking feeling, and YangYang quickly came to your aid.

“I told you it was fresh..” he sighed and pulled you to the kitchen. Leaning over the sink, he reached for the nozzel and gently sprayed ice water on your tongue. Nothing was ever simple for him. When he panicked, he did dumb shit. This was one of them. You flailed you’re arms and reached for the handle, turning the water off.

The room was coated in blanket of silence before YangYang bursted into laughter. Your entire front side was soaked, but hey, your tongue didn’t hurt anymore.

XiaoJun

“BooBoo.” His voice was soft, yet enough to wake you from your slumber. You groaned, wiping away at your eyes. He chuckled, seeing your disheveled state.

“I made you some hot lemon water.” He sat next to you, stroking your cheek till you woke. You hummed and opened your eyes, adjusting to the brightness of your room.

“With a drop of sugar?” Your voice grumbled.

His face blanked for a second before he stood. “I’m sorry, I forgot that. Give me a second.” He spec out of your room.

You stared at the steaming glass, perfectly sliced lemons floating at the top. You’ve never tried hot lemon water without sugar before, only cold, and you hated it.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you reached for the cup. The moment the hot liquid met your tongue, you squealed and quickly placed it back on your nightstand. You began licking your hand, trying to remove the stinging from your mouth.

Xiaojun walked in to see you in such a weird action, before seeing your lip print in the fog of the glass. He covered his mouth, quiet chuckles leaving him.

“It’s not funny!” You whined. Well, it was a little funny. You joined in with his laughter, voices calming down before he helped you with your now burnt tongue.

“You gotta be more careful baby.” He smiled and kissed both of your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss in your lips.

******************

• NOT PROOFREAD •

I hope you enjoyed this, baby ❤️

12 notes · View notes

mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Melon-cholia || Morgan & Remmy

They really should put a warning sign in front of that watermelon stand at the farmer’s market.

@whatsin-yourhead

After Remmy had gone over to Deirdre’s (and Morgan’s??) for the second time, the two of them had decided Remmy needed some new, fresh ingredients. And with a rather dramatic declaration, Morgan had agreed to take Remmy to the Farmer’s Market. Remmy hadn’t had the will to fight it, so here they were now, at the Farmer’s Market, perusing the stands. Remmy had only been to one other market like this, and it wasn’t in America. There were lots of cool fresh fruit stands and Remmy, of course, had to stop at all of them and examine them. They were already putting together a fun recipe in their mind that they could do with all these local squash and berries, which were the only crops really in bloom right now, especially with the current conditions. When they reached the next gourd stand, Remmy tugged on Morgan’s sleeve. “Lookit the baby spaghetti squash!” they said, running up and grabbing one, like a kid in a candy shop. This was a candy shop to them. If only they could still taste it all. “Not good for baking, but hey-- this stuff is so good. It makes really good pasta, actually. I’m not the best at doing it, but if you should definitely try it if you haven’t!”

Morgan was excited to be out of the house with Remmy, especially to somewhere that made both of them so excited. With Miriam still out there and so many near-death experiences in her wake, having a semi-indestructible friend added a certain level of ease. She strolled with her friend, a picnic basket dangling from each hand. She beamed as Remmy ran off, more excited than she’d seen them the last couple of times. She’d have thought that a normal movie night or two would have brightened their day, but there was something hanging over her friend. But maybe she just hadn’t hit the right button. “We should get some! I think squash has less iron than your regular pasta anyways. Maybe it’ll spice up pasta night.” She waved at the vendor and handed them exact change before sticking a couple into her basket. “How do you know so much about food? I could’ve sworn you were living like a college kid when you first rolled into town. Ooh, and what kind of pie were you thinking of? I sense some kind of flavor adventure on your mind.”

“Oh, um, I always really liked cooking,” Remmy explained as they picked out the best ones, setting them in Morgan’s basket. “My mom was a professional baker, she like, had her own place, I guess. I mean, I never got to see it or anything, since, you know…” they trailed off a little, before moving on quickly, “but I guess I picked up that from her. The um...cooking food thing. It’s like, my way of destressing. You just get to like, put stuff together and make something and it’s like...following recipes and stuff is easy. I think I’m better at baking than regular cooking cause of that.” They headed over to the next stand, an organically grown local fruit stand, and started picking through the berries. “Oh, um...I’m thinking some sort of wildberry or mixed berry rhubarb. They’re about the only kinds growing right now and it’s always an easy flavor to make good.” Not that they would know anymore. They were practically salivating at the idea of this pie. Maybe they’d make a second one with brains, so they could enjoy some, too. “Do you think that’d be good?”

“Oh, Rem--” Morgan said softly. “Of course, yeah. Um,” she felt weird and sheepish contributing, when Remmy knew so little about their own mother, when all this had started as a way to soothe that void. “My mom liked to say that cooking was the most accessible magic in the world. Cooking and baking was one of the times we mostly got along. Later, anyway, when I was better at it. She taught me all the good tricks, including how to make burgers the way Nora likes.” They moved on from the stand and closer towards the fruit vendors. “Rhubarb is amazing! And it’ll be out of season soon. The berries will balance it out, I think. The hardest part is always getting the rhubarb texture just right. And then we’ll maybe do the top crust in the shape of animals and bones? Or flowers and bones? I don’t know, but practicing shapes the last time I tried was really fun, and it’ll come out way less lumpy with you to make them since you’re an actual artist.” She searched the rows, trying not to get too distracted by the first bushel of blueberries. “Hey,” she said. “Is that...a watermelon stand?”

“I’ve never really cooked with anyone else,” Remmy commented off hand, picking up a bushel of raspberries that looked nice and fresh. The set it in their little basket before moving on to the blackberries. “I think it sounds good, too! I love rhubarb. Hopefully the sweetness of the berries will cut the sourness of it like strawberries do, but they’re not in season yet.” They smiled up at her. “We can definitely do little shapes. I think flowers and bones would be fun. But like-- I’m not really an artist. I’m sure yours were fine, anyway.” They put another bushel in their basket before pausing. “Watermelon? But...they’re not in season…” They wandered a bit closer. It was a whole patch of them, still on the vine, sitting in a makeshift plot with dirt. As they got closer they even noticed that these melons were larger than normal, too. “Wow, I didn’t think you could get these two grow way up here this early,” they said nonchalantly to the guy tilling the dirt beside them. He didn’t speak. Remmy looked back at Morgan. “Should we get a water--” they started, but in the next second, something was biting down on the hand they had extended towards the fruit with a loud CRUNCH! noise.

Morgan wasn’t sure what to make of the watermelon patch out of nowhere. It wasn’t the right season for them, not even close. And yet, they did look strangely ripe, so fat and green Morgan could already taste the juice in her mouth. And she’d never tried to make anything with watermelon before. They were always perfect sliced and scooped just as they were. But maybe a nice loaf, or some cookies… Morgan wandered into the patch while she thought, considering the possibilities. She was in too deep by the time she heard a wet, crunching sound next to her. Morgan turned, startled, and saw Remmy lift a bloody, handless arm from a watermelon with two perfect rows of sharp, dripping teeth. The two of them screamed. Morgan backed away, gasping with disbelief. She only made it a few feet before a vine snapped behind her ankle and she was on her back, staring at four more hungry mouths like the one that had snapped at her friend. “Remmy!” She shrieked.

Remmy was quiet for a long time, just staring at the spot where their hand was inside a watermelon’s mouth. A watermelon. Had their hand. In its mouth. A watermelon. Finally, it let go and Remmy pulled their arm back, now a stump. They looked at Morgan. They both screamed, Remmy more so about the watermelon with a mouth than their handless stump. It had already started regrowing, anyway. Stumbling back, Remmy turned to try and leap out of the patch, but Morgan called out their name and they swerved, tripping over vines and lumps of watermelon. Four of them were descending on Morgan. Remmy’s body stiffened and a sudden feeling came over them. They remembered the feeling down at the beach, punching through lobsters to keep them away from their friends. They remembered being in the ring, the crowd cheering them on excitedly. Show them what it means to be a monster, Felix had said. Make them feel it. Remmy leapt up quickly, then, senses honing. They pulled a fist back before letting it punch straight through one of the melons. The next one got a swift kick. The third got the back end of their heel, watermelon guts? Splashing everywhere. Remmy swerved on the fourth, clasped their hands-- one made only of bone-- and slammed them down on top of it, smashing it as if it’d fallen from a twenty foot roof. “Go!” they shouted, turning to Morgan, trying to lift her up, tearing at the vine. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Morgan was scrambling on her back, too frightened to use her hands for alchemy, too frightened to find the coordination to get to her feet. She felt one on her leg, snapping down and smacked it with her fist, denting the shell. She pushed herself, panting with fear all the while, and funneled energy out of her cuff to turn the fruit into a wave of water. It vanished with a splash as Remmy pulled on her. Morgan took their arm and clung on tight, kicking her feet up and running off with them, the tiny, pointy fangs, still lodged in her calf. “What was that! What was that? Did you see that? And how did you--” Morgan cried out again and pulled away. “Shit, your--your hand--shit--doesn’t that hurt? Shit, Remmy, it got you and you just--shit.”

There were sounds of screaming as Remmy yanked Morgan out and away and towards safety, practically carrying her. A man was shouting after tham, people were scattering, but Remmy could deal with that later. Right now, they just needed to get Morgan away from this. Away from the danger. Protect her. Save her. Hands-- well, hand-- covered in watermelon juice and dirt, the other slowly growing its way back, sinew and muscle wrapping around the exposed bone. Finally, Morgan’ yanked away and Remmy was thrown back into the present, rather suddenly. Their head spun a moment, and they blinked. Everything finally came back to real time. Noise came back full rush and Remmy shook their head, straightening out their vision. “I--” they looked down at their hand, “it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt.” Looked back up at Morgan, still finding it difficult to concentrate. They smelled blood, eyes dropping to her leg. “You’re hurt. We-- we have to get back to the car. You have a first aid kit in the car, right? Deirdre’s gonna be so mad I let you get hurt,” they said, words tumbling from their mouth, trying to fill the spaces between Morgan’s questions so that they wouldn’t have to answer them.

“I’m hurt? Are you--” Morgan checked herself. She was half soaked on one side and--oh. The teeth. She hadn’t been accounting for the teeth, and they were lodged, in two perfect, red streaked smiles, down her leg. Not too deep, she was sure she’d feel it worse if they were, but thin streaks of blood were already running down her skin. Morgan sighed. “You know, if this is just going to keep happening the rest of the year, maybe you can bottle me the trick to your regrowable skin. I would love to, you know, just once, not feel like the kids working at Rite-Aid are judging me when I roll in again.” She braced herself against Remmy looking very determinedly away from the sinew of their regrowing muscle. It made her stomach turn to linger on, it didn’t seem like a part of them at all, it looked wrong. “She’ll freak out and want to be my personal escort the next time I--well, at this point, do anything. But if it wasn’t for you I might be on a gurney back to Nurse Denise and not regrowing my extremities!” Morgan took a minute to reign in her breathing. She was hot, she was throbbing in her ears, “If we can just...um...sit somewhere with less teeth? That would be great…”

“It’s not magic, it’s because I’m dead,” Remmy said flatly, before shaking off the angry thought that was bubbling in their stomach. They shook their head, helped Morgan over somewhere to sit and kneeled in front of her. “Lemme see it,” they said, reaching out to start plucking the teeth that had stuck in her skin. Remmy looked around for something to help staunch the blood and clean it up, but all they had was an old napkin they’d stuffed into their pocket. They dabbed at the blood, trying not to look up at Morgan, to let her see the sudden rise of anxiety and fear creeping onto their face. “It’s...it’s not too bad. Doesn’t look too deep. Here…hold this, I’m gonna try and pull the rest of the um, teeth out.”

“I didn’t mean—” Morgan began, but Remmy looked more upset than any explanation could cover. When she was sitting on one of the benches laid out for the event she bent down to try and look at them. “I’m sorry, Remmy,” she said solemnly. “I wasn’t thinking like...like that. I’m sorry.” Remmy was very focused, however, and she didn’t know how to reach through their concentration. It didn’t help that she really did need those teeth out. Morgan took hold of the napkin and squeezed it tight in her fist as Remmy plucked away at each one. She clenched her jaw and did her best to hold still, to swallow her whimpers of pain. She was getting better at it, with all the practice her curse had been giving her, but a strangled sound still burst from her mouth as Remmy worked at one that was proving a little tricky. She flushed, embarrassed, and tried to think of something to say. “Thank you,” she said lamely.

“It’s fine,” Remmy said after a long time, prying the last tooth out of Morgan’s leg as best they could and tossing it into the grass. The screaming from down at the market had seemed to stop and Remmy cast a glance down that way to double check. Nothing to see. “I know.” They stood up, holding their hand out to her. “We should, um, get you home. So that we can like, properly take care of that. Clean it out, make sure there’s no like, debris in it.” Their hand that had gotten snacked on was now fully back, and they flexed the fingers, making sure to offer Morgan the one that hadn’t just regrown. Blanche always got sick about it, so they wanted to make sure Morgan didn’t get upset, either. It was still something they were getting used to themself, but they didn’t really have the ability to dwell on it like others. It was a part of them, now. A part of being undead. “You don’t have to thank me. I was just, you know...doing what any friend would. Should. Um...protecting you.”

Morgan took Remmy’s hand and stood-- “--Shit!” And sagged against them as her leg lit up with pain. Without the teeth, without the threat of losing her extremities as Remmy had, the rest of her body came alive, exhausted and hurting. “I’m fine,” she said quicky. “It’s not serious.I just...might need you a little after all. And there is, um, first aid in the Subaru. Starting to learn my lesson there a little there. Be prepared!” She adjusted an arm around Remmy’s shoulders, supporting herself against their weight as she limped along. “I know you did it because you’re a good friend, but I can still appreciate you, Rem. And now that we’re not in danger--are you okay?” They seemed...off, half closed. The Remmy that Morgan was most familiar with didn’t have so many barriers, certainly not ones that seemed so...firm, even cold.”You can tell me the truth, Remmy,” she said.

Remmy caught Morgan as she sagged, her entire weight nothing more to them than a sack of potatoes. They put an arm around her waist to help her walk, leading them slowly back towards the car, a little disappointed they’d lost all the fresh fruit, but ultimately relieved they’d gotten away almost scott-free. Their hand wasn’t a loss, but Morgan’s wounded leg hung heavy on Remmy’s conscience. One hesitation and this was the cost. It had been easier, this time, because they had been watermelons. They weren’t really alive. Maybe brought to life by magic. But the thought of having to do that against someone still rattled in Remmy’s chest like marbles. They knew they couldn’t keep walking this line of not acting or only sometimes acting. The Ring could help with that. It was helping with that. But that wasn’t important right now. Remmy didn’t answer until they got to the car. “I just did what any friend would do,” they said quietly, opening the car door and setting Morgan inside on the seat. “I’m fine. I was never really in any danger, you know.” Held up their hand. “My limbs grow back, remember?” They paused, looked around. “Where’s the kit?”

“No,” Morgan said quietly. “Rem, you--you matter.” What was it with the people in her life not getting that? First Deirdre, sometimes Skylar, sometimes Blanche, and now Remmy. She took the kit herself out of the glovebox and tried to get to work, clumsy with pain and frustration. She passed it to her friend, then held it back, carefully raising her gaze to meet theirs. “Stop being closed off and weird. You don’t have to tell me, I know I’m still earning back your trust, but don’t be like that. Please.”

Remmy looked at Morgan, kneeling in front of her again. They were tired of arguing with people that they didn’t. They really didn’t. They weren’t supposed to even be alive, so how could they possibly even matter? But they didn’t need to dump that on Morgan. “Okay,” they said quietly, reaching for the kit when Morgan pulled it back. Ruffled their brow. “I’m not,” they insisted, “I’m not being weird. That’s not-- it’s not about that. About you...I trust you. You don’t have to earn that back. It was never gone.”

Morgan slowly handed Remmy the first aid kit to patch her up. Their hands were a lot steadier and they knew what they were doing a little better than she did. “Fine,” she mumbled. She was quiet for a moment, letting them work in silence. What was it then? What was wrong. “You are, though,” she said. “Normally you’d be telling me things. Something with a girl, or with hunters, or Blanche or you other supernatural friends. I don’t know what it is, what’s bad enough that you can’t talk about it, but I want you to be okay. If I can do anything to help get you there, I want you to at least feel like you can tell me. Okay?”

Remmy took the kit and set to patching up Morgan’s leg. Luckily she wouldn’t need stitches, but it would be sore for a few days. They pulled open an alcohol pad and looked up at her. “This might um, sting a little?” Then dabbed at her leg with the swab, trying to be gentle as she flinched. “I’m not,” they insisted quietly again, but they knew that was a lie. “I mean...there’s just nothing to tell. My life isn’t as exciting as yours, you know? It’s just been...baking and work and making sure Blanche is okay. We um-- got a new pet. Something called a Baku? It eats nightmares, so that’s cool. Well, it’s Blanche’s pet, not mine. She named her Amy Bakiago. We call her Iago for short,” they went on, pulling out some gauze and bandages to finish patching her up. “I’m glad the sun is back. That’s neat. Do you know how it happened? Was it beach lobsters again?”

Morgan had to look away to keep from squirming. In her sudden wave of injuries and accidents, she had learned that if she just looked away, she could almost convince herself she wasn’t hurting. She was somewhere else, some other version of herself else who didn’t have to get the hang of spur of the moment first aid or swallowing every whine her body wanted to make when something pressed past its low pain threshold. She hated that Remmy was avoiding her, hated to let them off the hook when something wasn’t right, but her leg was burning, and she wanted them to be able to enjoy the rest of their day together. “Nightmares, huh?” She asked. “That’s pretty wild. Is she doing okay? I mean, I guess it’s not surprising she needs sleep after all she’s been through lately, but still.” She smirked at the name. “Who’s idea was Amy Bakiago? Did you help vote on that?” She let out a slow exhale as Remmy taped the gauze in place. “Not a clue about the sun. But the sky stopped being red on its own too, didn’t it? Maybe White Crest was just...having a weird mini season.” She turned her head up to catch the glare of sunlight against streaked clouds. “Definitely wasn’t the beach. Deirdre and I went to watch the sunrise, and for once, finally, I was able to walk away without a fresh curse in my pocket.”

“I think she’s doing better,” Remmy said, “now that she has something to like...concentrate on. She even switched her major, and she’s been reading a bunch of books on like, supernatural stuff and ancient languages. My vote was for Jake Bakuralta, but Amy Bakiago is a good name, too.” They gave a weak smile. “All patched up,” they said, tapping her lightly on the knee before standing up. “Well, guess we should just count ourselves lucky that we didn’t have to deal with anything crazy for it to come back. I still wonder what happened, though…” They looked up at the sky in tandem with Morgan, squinting a little. “Must just be the weird weather, right? I missed the sunsets.”

“Me too,” Morgan said, hugging herself. She watched the sky with Remmy, as if she might absorb the bright, crisp blue into her and keep it on tap for when she couldn’t find any light of her own. It was the kind of blue she remembered from the Disney movies of her childhood, the kind you would look for in a crayon box for a picture of happiness and never find. It was the sun, she thought, the golden stain over the thin clouds. Morgan strained her eyes staring at it. How simple, how stupid, the things that could give you hope.”I guess we still need to pick up something, if you still want to make stuff together,” she said at last.

Remmy stayed quiet while Morgan did, curious as to what she might be thinking about while she searched the sunlit sky. The clouds passed between the sun and the sky, blocking it momentarily, and Remmy’s eyes fell back to the farmer’s market. People were already milling back in, as if the watermelons hadn’t just sprung to life and tried to eat people, but the man whose stand they’d been at was suddenly not there anymore. Frowning, Remmy looked back over at Morgan. “Sure, yeah,” they said, picking up the kit and setting it back in the car, “but maybe we can just go to the grocery store?”

“This is why we’re friends, Remmy. Even when you’re being weird, you still have the best ideas.” Morgan said. She hauled her legs into the Subaru and buckled herself in and took one more look at the blue sky, the bright sun, the shadow streaked clouds in the distance. “But maybe we should get you a license one of these days, huh?” She teased, brow arched. “But I could get over it if you do all the grocery lifting for me.”

#melon-cholia #wr remmy #wr chatzy #wr remmy chatzy

8 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2 - (totally uninterested.)

The possibility of speaking more than five words to Ethan had my heart doing somersaults as I got off of the elevator in Harry’s building. I knew where he lived--Kristen’s classmate, Georgia (who we sometimes hung out with) lived on the fourth floor.

If I remember correctly, we ended up eating pizza here a few Fridays back at 2am when we were plastered and Kristen was not anxious about her grades.

I made my way down the hall to the fifth door as Harry’s text message from an hour earlier had instructed. I lifted my hand to knock, but it opened before I made contact--Harry stood with wide eyes and an expectant smile on his face.

“Hi,” I said, pulling my head back in surprise. I peered over his shoulder, causing him to laugh. “Is he here yet?”

“No, Nora, relax, come in.” He stepped aside and let me by, we were cramped in a small hallway that didn’t give me much of a view of the rest of the place. “They’ll probably be here in like 15 minutes. They sometimes get take away after practice.”

“Hmm,” I said, watching as he retreated back towards the living room. It was decently clean for an apartment of four guys.

Harry and Ryan had been friends since freshman year--at least, that was my understanding. He was the one that Harry talked about the most. Then there were Alex and Niall as well.

Ryan and Niall were both on the basketball team with Ethan. Harry was on the soccer team (he’d told me at work that he was good, but I decided out loud when he told me that I didn’t believe him.) Alex, their fourth and final roommate, didn’t play any sports. He was big into the music scene and spent most of his free time, as Harry as explained, in a dingy recording studio with his classmates.

“Hmm what?” He asked over his shoulder, not stopping to look back at me. He headed into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. He pulled out a beer and handed one to me before opening one for himself. I followed him over towards the couch and sat beside him.

“Just hope he shows up,” I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. I took a sip of the beer and winced at the tase. I’d never admit it to Harry, but I was much more of a cider or wine type of girl.

“Right,” he laughed. I followed him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. He reached for a bag of chex mix he’d apparently been snacking on before my arrival. “Whatever would we do if he didn’t?”

I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone to check the time again. “They don’t pay me enough to sit next to you in that stupid library, so we’re definitely not gonna do it out here,” I motioned around his apartment.

The TV was on, commercials flashed over the screen as he pulled his eyes up to look at me--completely unenthused. “Nora, just appreciate the fact that I even let you come over, okay? Now you get to drool over him like he’s a caged animal and he’ll never even know.”

His tone was playful and chastising, but I pulled my feet up on the couch and moved around to get more comfortable. “How are you gonna introduce me?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows at him to bother him more than I already was. I took a few more sips of my drink--hoping the alcohol would calm my nerves.

He reached his hand in the bag and then popped another handful in his mouth and shrugged. “Doesn’t he know who you are?”

I thought on it for a second. I mean--he should. We had a class together during our sophomore year and he’d spoken to me three whole times in the Library. He at least had to know my face. “He knows that I work in the library, I think.”

Harry widened his eyes a little bit and let out a sigh, grabbing another handful of his snack. “Okay--I’ll just say you’re my friend, from the library, that we work together,” he shrugged a bit.

There was noise in the hallway--laughter and voices as the door opened, and I turned to look at Harry with big eyes and a grin on my face.

He rolled his eyes at me and reached his hand inside the bag once more. “Oh come off it,” he said, and he must have known his gibberish made no sense to me--an American--because he continued when I scrunched my nose in confusion. “Relax.”

Niall, Ryan, and Ethan all came in with their duffle bags on their shoulders, laughing at something one of them had said as they filed into the living room. They dropped their bags on the floor and I--as the ever-nervous idiot who could barely manage a conversation with someone she found attractive--kept my mouth shut decided I’d let Harry do most of the conversing.

“Hey guys,” Harry greeted. “This is Nora. We work at the library together.”

I watched as they each scanned my face. I’d met Ryan maybe twice--Niall was in my major, and Ethan, well, you know the story. I raised my beer at them in greeting and let them turn back to each other and whatever conversation they’d been having. Was that too friendly? Was raising a beer at a group of guys basically code for I’m also a dude, so don’t bother finding me attractive?

“Dude, y’shoulda seen the fucking half courter this one made tonight,” Niall pointed at Ryan, who was too busy downing a gatorade to respond. Ethan sat at the table in the corner, taking off his shoes and finding a sweatshirt in his bag.

“It wasn’t actually that good,” Ethan laughed, looking up to give Harry and I more details.

“It was pretty fucking awesome,” Ryan defended, setting the gatorade down on the counter. He was stood in the kitchen--but a cut out in the wall allowed a full view. “I’ve never seen you make one like that,” he shot back at Ethan.

“I’ve never tried cause I’m not trying to get hurt and benched for the fucking season,” he retorted with a laugh.

I didn’t know nearly enough about basketball to act like I did, so instead, I tried to change the subject.

“Have you started your project for Benham yet, Niall? You’re taking his class this semester, right?”

He let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, am I. He’s ridiculous--completely mental. I have to work with Kyle Porter, that wanker. He’ll probably fuck it all up and we’ll fail.”

Harry let out a laugh at how dramatic his friend was being, but I simply kept my eyes on Ethan as he came to join us on the couch. He reached for the bag of chex mix from Harry (who easily handed it over) and plopped himself down with a sigh.

I felt somewhat betrayed, honestly, not just because Ethan had sat next to Harry instead of me--but really because Harry had completely and utterly downplayed his friendship with Ethan. Here they were, all hanging out in Harry’s apartment, and Harry just handed him the chex mix as if they were long lost brothers in some sort of tribe of idiots.

Why had he completely downplayed it?

Ethan leaned forward and it took me a second to realize he was looking at me. “Nora, you said? You were in my History of the English Language class last year, right?”

I let out a laugh, which Harry made a face at because nothing Ethan had said was really funny, and nodded. “Yeah, with Adam Middleman, good times!”

Ethan nodded and sat back again, letting his eyes drift to the TV. Harry’s eyes were still on me--his face blank and somehow sending a message that I was a total idiot.

“Anyone hungry? Should we go to the dining hall or order something?” Ryan asked as he came back into the living room, his eyes scanning the room for answers.

“I’d do either,” Niall announced, tossing his bag into (what I assumed to be) his bedroom. “But I’m hungry, so let’s make up our minds, ladies.”

“Let’s just do the dining hall,” Ethan said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “The dining hall is fine.”

Harry turned to look at me again--which was just getting to be obnoxious now. He’d give me these are you crazy? stares, but wouldn’t actually say anything. He stood from the couch as Ryan responded to Niall, saying something about the sandwich bar in Henderson Dining Hall.

“Will you come with me, for a second? I want to show you something.”

I stared up at Harry, confused and annoyed that he was trying to get me away from Ethan. He widened his eyes at me to let me know he was serious, and I stood from the couch. I held in the exaggerated sigh I so badly wanted to unleash and followed Harry down a side hall and past a bathroom.

He went into a dark room (his bedroom, I was guessing), and shut the door behind me. “You need to chill out. You’re being obnoxious.”

I rolled my eyes, somewhat offended by his feedback. He clearly didn’t know what it was like to have the hots for Ethan Davis for two years and finally be able to talk with him in a casual environment. I was always seeing him at parties or in the library--now I finally had the chance to talk to him like a real person.

“I am not being obnoxious.”

“You’re being obnoxious,” Harry nodded sternly, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

“You think everything I do is obnoxious,” I retorted, crossing my arms to mirror his.

“Everything you do is obnoxious.”

“Is that seriously all you wanted? Can I go back out there now?”

He let out a breath and tried to temper himself. “Nora, just--play it cool.”

“What do you mean?” I asked--almost desperate for him to give me legitimate feedback. If he was going to drag me into time out and just shit on me, I didn’t want his help. If he was going to actually give me insider advice on how to land Ethan Davis, I’d take it.

“Just, I dunno--play hard to get or something. Don’t act so available.”

I paused for a second, looking at him straight in the eyes. Maybe the adrenaline was clouding my comprehension, but I didn’t understand. “But,” I said, my eyes narrowed. “I am available.”

He rolled his eyes a little, which caused me to laugh in response. “Nora, that’s not hot. Being unavailable and totally and completely uninterested is hot.”

I frowned at him, totally and completely trying to not laugh at how stupid he sounded. “You’re incredibly moronic. Can I go now? I’m totally tagging along for dinner.”

He let out a deflated laugh. “You’re unbelievable. But I’d love to watch you continue to crash and burn tonight.”

I reached up to pinch Harry’s cheek. He swatted at my quickly, a deep frown causing a wrinkle in his forehead. “Cheer up,” I said. “You get to watch people fall in love tonight!”

My dinner with Harry and his friends was mostly uneventful. I did my best to interject at the right moments and say things that would catch Ethan’s attention, but most of my social interaction ended up being eye rolls back and forth across the table with Harry.

At least I got to sit and look at Ethan for a whole 45 minutes.

And now, I was hoping when Ethan left the library for the night, he’d decide to march right up to the information desk, tell Harry to suck it, and propose marriage right here, right now. I’d happily oblige.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Harry mumbled, his mouth half blocked by the hand he rested his chin on.

I looked over at him, clicking my phone shut in a quick realization that I still had a paper to write. “What thing?” I asked, my voice monotonous and disinterested.

“When you roll your wrist and make that cracking sound.”

I narrowed my eyes--was he serious? My silence made him look up at me and offer a quick smirk before he turned back to his computer.

“Sorry that I don’t live to please you,” I replied coolly. I lifted my feet from the desk and brought them back to the ground, internally bargaining with myself that better posture would lead to better focus.

Harry was quiet for a second. He typed away at his computer and I flipped through the book on my desk, hoping to find whatever inspiration I needed to bang out a quick 6 page paper.

“The other night was terrible,” he said, his eyes peering up sideways at me to see what type of response he’d get out of me.

“It wasn’t terrible,” I corrected him. “It was the first of many nights that I spend with Ethan. Every couple starts somewhere.”

He let out a snort, clearly disagreeing with my description. “And how do you think you’ll spend a bunch of time with him?”

I shrugged. “You really hate me that much that you won’t let me hang out with all of you?”

His face was serious, his lips in a straight line and he blinked twice before responding. “Yes.”

“Harry,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re a dickhead.”

He laughed at this, clearly un-offended by my insult and somewhat entertained by his own answer. His hair was up in a bun, he was clad in a black t-shirt and skinny jeans that seemed to make it hard to sit comfortably. He kept moving around and adjusting (what I could only imagine) was his incredibly small penis.

He didn’t respond, instead, he picked up his phone and opened snapchat--clicking through a selfie from some blonde-haired girl I didn’t recognize. Barf.

“I mean, I guess if you don’t want your little secret to get out,” I trailed off, hoping he’d put two and two together.

“My secret?” He asked, his eyes still on his phone as he snapped a picture of his computer in front of him and typed back some type of message to whatever stupid girl was falling for his sickening charm.

“Yeah,” I said casually. “You know, your” I raised my voice to be above our normal library shift volume. “Arrest record.”

He looked up at my quickly, not as bothered as I expected. “It’s not an arrest record,” he reminded me.

“Well, whatever it is, I’d hate for everyone to know about it.”

He lowered his brows at me, his lips still set in a firm line. “Are you trying to blackmail me, Hanson?”

I shrugged my shoulders and laughed a little. “I mean, you told me about it--it’s not like I had to go digging.”

“Keep quiet about it, yeah? I don’t need your big mouth ruining my chance as a politician.”

“Right cause the skinny jeans didn’t already do that for you,” I nodded seriously, a smirk fighting its way onto my face.

He let out a sigh. “Nora, Nora, Nora. You’re my least favorite person on the planet.”

I looked back to my computer and typed my name on top of the word document. “I can live with that.”

We both looked up when we could feel someone approaching the desk, and Ethan (who carried a water bottle in his hands) smiled at both of us.

“Hey, hi Nora,” he leaned forward on the desk. “Either of you know that someone’s totally drunk on the second floor?”

“What?” Harry asked, pushing his computer back on the desk to stand up. “Jesus Christ.”

“Thanks for telling us,” I said, following Harry’s lead. I followed Harry around the desk and into the main area of the first floor.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow night?”

Harry stopped in his tracks and I my head shot in his direction with raised brows. Tomorrow night? I had no idea what he was talking about--but you bet I was going to be there if Ethan Davis would be in attendance. “You sure will!” I answered for both of us.

With that, Ethan waved and bid us goodnight, heading out of the main doors as Harry and I made a beeline to the stairs.

“What was that about?” I whispered once we were inside the stairwell. Even at a lower volume, my voice echoed against the old walls.

Harry took the stairs two at a time, putting distance between us as he replied. “Just some people coming over, it’s not a big deal. You won’t know anyone.”

“I’ll know you and I’ll know Ethan,” I argued.

He rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of the door to the second floor. He placed his hand on the doorknob and paused. “Nora--fine. You can come. But keep your mouth shut about the whole thing with Luke Billups thing, okay?”

I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Deal.”

Not only had I weaseled my way into being invited to whatever type of party was happening at Harry’s on Friday night, but I also weaseled my way into getting a date. So when Kristen and I were stood in the living room, watching as Harry and Niall played pong with Alex and Ryan, I was hopeful that Ethan would be arriving soon.

There were a decent amount of people. A few kids from my major that were friends with Niall, a few guys from the basketball team, a number of girls who seemed to be interested in getting the attention of Harry and his roommates.

Pair that with the lowered lights, the music that was playing way too loud, and the alcohol in every cup, and I was feeling more comfortable by the minute. Even Kristen seemed to be enjoying herself. Georgia Lederman had showed up as well, so we stood in the corner of the room, sipping our drinks and laughing whenever one of the boys did something incredibly stupid.

“Have you seen him yet?” Kristen whispered to me when Georgia got distracted by a fellow classmate.

I shook my head, tilting the rest of my drink back into my mouth. “Nope,” I said defeatedly. “But he’ll be here, he’s the one who brought it up.”

“Anyone need a drink?” Harry’s voice sounded from behind us, I turned suddenly to find him leaning over me, a drunk smile on his face as he waited for our response.

“I’m all set, thanks though,” Kristen smiled up at him.

“I do,” I sighed, somewhat bitter about having to follow him into the kitchen, but also disappointed about the fact that Ethan was still nowhere to be found.

He turned on his heels and started weaving through the living room. I trailed behind, finishing the last of my drink in order to start a new one. Once we were in the kitchen and somewhat separated from the rest of the crowd, I lowered my voice.

“Where’s Ethan?”

Harry pulled a face as he bent into the fridge to grab a beer for himself and a bottle of vodka. “How would I know? He’s not actually my friend.”

“Well you’d have a better idea than I would,” I told him.

He rolled his eyes, taking my cup out of my hands and setting it on the counter. I hoisted myself up, happy to sit on the section of counter that connected into the living room--my back to the crowd--watching as he twisted off the top of the bottle and poured a shot’s worth into my cup. “M’sure he’ll show up eventually. Lemonade or cranberry?”

“Lemonade.”

He poured some in and stirred with a knife. He took a sip first and then handed it over to me. I hopped down and took it, but both of us turned to the door when it opened and revealed more people in the hallway.

Low and behold, Ethan Davis stood behind two other members of the basketball team, a smile on his face as Alex greeted them at the door.

“It’s about time,” I said under my breath, only loud enough for Harry to hear--who only let out a short laugh.

Ethan squeezed his way through the people in the hallway, joining us in the kitchen as he offered hellos. “How’s everybody doin’?”

“Great, hi, how’re you?” I asked, offering a side hug as he leaned into me. Harry made a face but turned around to grab a beer from the fridge, offering it to Ethan without a greeting.

“Good, happy to be here, how are you two? Glad to not be at the library?”

“Totally,” I laughed, sipping at my drink to make myself feel less awkward.

“Actually get to just hang out tonight, right? Must be hard to work with your significant other,” he laughed.

“What?” I tilted my head sideways, sure that I had misheard him. Harry let out some sort of laugh but looked just as interested in Ethan’s next words.

“Aren’t you two, like--y’know--together?”

I pulled my head back and my eyes went wide--I probably couldn’t have made a more disgusted face if I tried. I looked up to Harry quickly, totally unsure of how we’d given Ethan that impression. Maybe it was the bickering. Maybe it was the time Harry pulled me into his bedroom last week in front of Ethan. Whatever it was, Ethan couldn’t have been more--

“Right,” Harry nodded, slinking an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. “Yeah, we are, actually.”

“What?” I said again, looking up at him, eyebrows knit together in confusion and annoyance. He smiled down at me and widened his eyes, somehow conveying that he had a plan and that it was in my best interest to go along with it. I let out a sigh, hoping to God that he wasn’t about to screw me over. I twisted my mouth into a small smile. “I thought we weren’t telling anyone about it, babe?”

Harry laughed a little. “Yeah, well, it’s just Ethan. He’s a pal.”

Funny--that was a change of tune from what he’d said five seconds ago.

Ethan let out a laugh and slapped Harry on the arm. “Happy for you two.”

I forced a grin in his direction--feeling suddenly stuck against Harry’s side and under his arm. Kristen, who was watching on in the corner with Georgia and Kate Levinsky, had the most confused look on her face. She wasn’t the only one.

Ethan got distracted suddenly, pulled into the living room by Ryan to play a round of pong, which gave me the perfect opportunity to pull Harry aside and smack him upside the head for a whole hour. “Excuse me, bedroom, now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at this. “Didn’t know you’d be so willing,” he laughed, only causing me to roll my eyes at his stupid joke. I pulled him by the shirt into his room, shut the door behind us with a thud, and set my drink down on his bedside table to cross my arms.

“Okay, relax,” he said slowly, drawing out the phrase in a mess of slurred words and accent. “That’s the most interested in you he’s seemed. So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome?!” I repeated his words in a high pitched voice, my anger getting the best of me.

“Nora, just chill, alright? It’s not real. Just let him think that for a week or something and then you can tell him we ended things and he’ll want to swoop in.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s Ethan Davis,” he shrugged. “He’s kind of that guy.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, expecting him to continue. He sighed again. “Y’know--he has a reputation for being kind of a rebound. He hooked up with Charlotte something in your major. Right after her and Andrew Best broke it off?”

“Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he’d do it again.”

“He did it with Allie Nguyen and Peter Norville too.”

“Okay, but, you don’t know that it means he’s actually like, into that.”

Harry rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t more appreciative of his quick thinking.

“And besides, fake dating is stupid and it won’t work and it would require that we spend more time together outside of the library than we’ve already done this week. Don’t you hate me? Don’t you not want anything to do with me?”

He shrugged. “If it means you’ll keep your mouth shut about what I told you and cover my ass when I’m sometimes late for shifts and if it will get you closer to Ethan so you shut up about him, I’ll do it.”

I sat on his words for a second. He sipped at the beer in his hand and gave me an expectant look, as if he were impatiently waiting for my answer.

It felt stupid. It felt like it was bound to go wrong and things would get weird and complicated and then what if at some point things between me and Ethan actually did work out? What if we ended up married and I’d have to tell him that I lied about being with Harry to make him interested? I could already picture the emotional break up scene with Ethan in my head where he found out I lied and felt betrayed and I didn’t know if I wanted to go through that.

But maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

I let out a breath--and Harry seemed to tilt his head to prompt me to answer him.

“Fine, okay. Fine.”

#totally uninterested #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles uni au #harry styles fic #harry styles au fic #harry styles au fanfic #harry styles uni fanfic #harry styles uni au fic

54 notes · View notes

quarterfromcanon · 5 years

Text

#afewofmyfavoritethings

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 17 - Cold [2,838 words]

“Um... guys? You might wanna come take a look at this.”

The cushion of the sofa dipped beside Heather when Valencia joined her at the window. Paula and Rebecca leaned over the armrests and pulled back the lace curtains. The group gazed through the frosted pane at the rolling hills that had transformed into a wintry world overnight.

Rebecca squealed. “It’s even better than I expected! I know the weather called for snow but look at all that!” Her nose bumped the glass as she craned to take everything in, and she pulled away from the frigid contact. “Oh, it’s so much prettier when there aren’t cabs driving through it and city grime isn’t turning the drifts all gray and gross. The view from my mom’s house was okay, but nothing like this.” She sighed. “Well, ladies, I think you know what this means.”

“Photo sesh?” Valencia shifted to access the phone in the pocket of her space onesie.

“Snowman contest?” Paula rubbed her hands together. She grinned in the dangerous way that told them all they were toast before construction even began.

“Sledding?” Heather suggested. She dropped to a seated position and leaned against Valencia’s biceps.

“Okay, yes to all of that,” Rebecca pointed at each of them in acknowledgement. “But for the grand finale...,” she paused for dramatic effect and shimmied, “... snowball fight!”

“Oh boy,” Heather murmured. She watched the competitive gleam ignite behind the eyes of the other three women. “This is gonna be a bloodbath.”

They broke off in separate directions. Paula wandered down the hall to wake Scott and Tommy; Rebecca went to the loft for the end of Nathaniel’s morning exercise routine, and Heather and Valencia headed back to their room to change clothes.

Scott cooked them all breakfast beforehand -- a task which, to be fair, was no small undertaking given conflicting dietary preferences. Paula sat perched on a stool nearby, ready to intervene in the event of a crisis. However, Scott made it through the endeavor with minimal profanity and only one fleeting incident involving his apron and an open flame. The end result was an admirable improvement over the quality of his culinary skills several years ago. Strategic seasoning masked any mildly crispy edges.

“He’s getting better,” Paula noted quietly to the girls. She crossed the floor and give him a peck on the cheek. “Good job, babe.”

Scott beamed.

Once everybody was fed, fully dressed in adequate layers, and equipped with tissues for runny noses, they trooped out of the rented cabin and into the frozen landscape. The photo session came first while the neatness of everyone’s ensemble remained intact. It was agreed that Nathaniel, Scott, and Tommy could be spared on-camera participation in exchange for behind-the-scenes help getting the perfect shots. This entailed holding back tree branches that cast unwanted shadows, standing side-by-side to block glaring sunlight, and tossing gloves full of flakes into the sky so the Gurl Group would appear to be caught in the middle of heavy snowfall. The edited results were approved by all parties featured, and Paula goaded their assistants into a single commemorative picture with their mitten thumbs raised and semi-forced cheerful faces.

Snow angels met with more unanimous enthusiasm. Rebecca and Heather stood beside one another, shared a glance and a nod, then dropped backward as if they were letting themselves fall into a pool. Scott and Tommy gave each other teasing kicks with their boots every time they slid their legs in a broad chevron. Paula observed the father-son bonding from a short distance away while she made her own outline of a spiritual being. Nathaniel’s and Valencia’s approach to the activity was significantly more tentative and involved a great deal more grimacing. Once they got settled, however, they began to embrace the fun. Nathaniel’s long limbs produced very impressive wings and a flowing skirt. Valencia’s angel gave the impression of a certain grace despite the fact that her main goal seemed to be brushing Heather’s gloves with her own on each upward stroke of her arms.

They divided into teams for the snowman contest. An hour was the chosen allotment for their creations to take shape. Additional materials were both allowed and encouraged, which caused the subsequent flurry of activity to be particularly chaotic. Their shouts echoed over the treetops. Friends narrowly escaped collisions while running and stumbling over the soft ground.

Rebecca and Nathaniel constructed a suitably scrawny Harry Potter. He was equipped with green M&M eyes, a red licorice lightning bolt scar, a broom from the kitchen pantry, and Rebecca’s scarlet and gold scarf. Surprising absolutely no one, building the beloved protagonist led to a steady stream of magic-related innuendo spoken in undertones, the extremity of which ultimately prompted Rebecca to cover the boy wizard’s nonexistent ears. “Oh my god, contain yourself. There’s a child present.”

Heather and Valencia rendered extra roly-poly versions of their cats, Shadow and Esperanza, with stick whiskers and playfully curled tails. Esperanza had her signature queenly bearing and expression, while Shadow’s gravel eyes were upturned in pure adoration. Heather tracked down a couple of decorative glue yarn balls and wedged them beneath their pets’ paws.

Team Proctor reached football-game-at-a-bar levels of raucousness as they worked on their entry. The Peeps for Peace t-shirt Paula slept in the night before got tugged onto their snowman’s body. They balanced a few thin logs of firewood on its shoulder and secured a hammer from Scott’s toolbox in its hand. Tommy drew a lackadaisical smirk on the snowman’s face and styled straw for the hair. When their efforts were complete, a Snow Brendan stood before them, built to scale and adorned with a heroic blanket cape.

“I wanna cry foul for emotional manipulation,” Rebecca confided to Valencia afterward, “but it’s just, like, so cute I can’t even get mad.” Valencia begrudgingly inclined her head in agreement.

To her credit, Paula managed to blink back her tears and genuinely smile for the photo they saved to send real-life Brendan later, informing him of his role in the family’s success.

The prospect of voting on hills for sledding was too daunting, so the group settled for the first drop-off they found. The guys were extended the offer to go first, due to the limited number of sleds in their possession, and they gladly accepted the chance. Nathaniel shifted from one foot to the other and brought his palms together in a muffled clap.

“This is a race, right? There’ll be a winner?”

Heather thumped her hand against his jacket with an indulgent shrug. “Sure, bud.”

Nathaniel pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

Scott and Tommy exchanged looks. Paula, Rebecca, Valencia, and Heather all clung to each other for support and made their way down the slope to help verify who reached the bottom first.

“Good luck, honey!” Paula called.

“Channel that Slytherin energy!” Rebecca paced like a coach.

Heather nudged Valencia’s arm and angled her head. Valencia’s brow furrowed but then, following the line of sight, she got the hint.

“C’mon, Tommy!” she whooped.

“Yeah, Tommy, you’ve got this!” Heather chimed in with her fist held high. Tommy’s chest puffed out and he readjusted his grip on the plastic toboggan.

Paula grabbed a fallen branch and dragged it through the snow to delineate the end of the path. The four judges shouted the starting cue in unison -- almost. “On your mark, get set, go!”

Scott’s style of descent was traditional but effective. Tommy barreled down the hillside on his stomach. Nathaniel’s technique reminded Heather of the luge participants from the Winter Olympics, unwavering serious features and all. Tommy and Nathaniel were neck and neck for at least three-fourths of the race but, in the home stretch, Tommy’s lean frame made him just enough faster to cross the finish line mere seconds before Nathaniel did so.

Nathaniel was clearly frustrated by the loss but, the minute he saw Tommy’s broad grin, the irritability visible in his brow and jaw smoothed into nonexistence. He lifted his chin and approached his competitor for a congratulatory shake. “Well done, Proctor. Excellent form.”

Tommy’s eyebrows quirked at the odd formality. He clasped Nathaniel’s hand and brought him in for a couple of genial slaps on the arm. “Thanks, man.”

The girls reluctantly ascended to the crest of the rise for their turns -- an arduous journey with an entire chorus of grumbling and winded breathing. The uppermost layer of snow caved beneath Valencia’s boot and she yelped, but Heather caught her elbow and prevented the fall.

“My hero.” Valencia secured her forearm over Heather’s to prevent a second slip.

“Full disclosure, I would’ve laughed my ass off if you slid back down the entire hill when we were this close to the top, but I also knew you’d be really pissed, so...”

“You’re not wrong.”

Heather chuckled and hip-checked Valencia, but not hard enough to throw off their matching stride.

They arrived at their destination with a collective relieved exhale. Paula and Heather set up their respective sleds. Rebecca clambered behind Paula and held onto her shoulder blades. “Take us home, Mama!”

Heather fronted the second toboggan while Valencia surrounded her in a tangle of limbs. “We’ve got this in the bag,” Valencia declared with confidence.

“I mean, totally, but what makes you so sure?” Heather asked.

“Because, if you get us there first, I’ll --” Valencia noticed Paula’s and Rebecca’s attention on her. She cupped Heather’s ear and whispered the rest of her incentive for so long that Paula pretended to check an invisible watch.

Heather’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her beanie. “Well, shit.”

“Ah, damn it,” Paula lamented.

“She promised her NC-17 stuff,” Rebecca seconded with a pout. “Now we’re really gonna have to pull out all the stops to beat them.”

Though it was not for lack of trying -- including an unsportsmanlike sideswipe midway down the incline (“Craterface ’em, Paula! It’s our only hope!”) -- they reached the bottom of the hill a heartbeat after Heather’s triumphant first place achievement. Valencia covered the side of Heather’s face in a barrage of kisses.

“Yeah, all right.” Paula fished out her camera. “Get over here so we can take a picture of our three winners, ya horny monsters.”

Valencia and Heather posed on either side of Tommy for the photo. Heather affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair and the pink in Tommy’s cheeks deepened to a bright red.

The only event that remained was the snowball fight, and its onset sparked an immediate change in atmosphere. Much like Heather predicted, no one showed any signs of restraint over their hunger for victory. They crafted forts in near silence, already coiled for the siege. Direct hits qualified as ‘out’ while a graze with a snowball meant a one minute pause behind the player’s designated barrier. Teams were the same as the divide during the building contest.

Tension rose while everyone hunkered down and waited for the first throw.

“We probably should’ve figured this part out before --” Heather remarked, but her words were drowned out by Rebecca’s battle cry.

“UNLEASH HELL!”

Heather crouched low. “Here we go...”

The cloudless sky was blurred by a torrent of tightly packed spheres.

“Trebuchet!” Tommy boomed.

Heather’s and Valencia’s fortress stood firm but the sound of multiple piffs of impact reached their ears even over all the yelling.

Things went eerily quiet after that. Heather peered over the wall. “The Proctors are entering No Man’s Land.”

Valencia peeked around the side. “Rebecca’s walking out to meet them. Nathaniel’s spotting her.”

What followed was a rather comedic standoff in which Rebecca lost her nerve after meeting Paula’s determined gaze and took off screaming. She zigzagged as per Nathaniel’s frantic advice and barely evaded being struck at least half a dozen times. Nathaniel’s tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth and he wiped out Tommy with a snowball square in the middle of his back. Tommy swore colorfully but accepted his fate.

Seeing an opportunity as the chase neared their station, Heather aimed a round of icy ammo at Scott’s chest and made a hit.

Rebecca’s panic became a single, loud “AAAAAAAAAH” before she lobbed a ball over her shoulder without warning and somehow pelted her best friend in the face.

Paula’s vocabulary surpassed even Tommy’s creativity - like mother, like son. Rebecca apologized profusely and supplied her scarf for a towel. When Paula wiped the snow away, she cast a glance around and realized which players remained. “Ohoho, it almost makes it worth it just to watch this,” she cackled darkly.

“Bring it on, Plimpton.” Valencia tensed with a murderous scowl. Nathaniel rose to his feet.

Their other opponent veered toward the encampment, and Heather planted herself between Rebecca and Valencia.

“You and me, Davis,” Rebecca challenged. “Moi et toi. I’m unstoppable now!”

Heather darted forward without hesitation. Rebecca had to swerve to avoid the attack. Valencia hurled a snowball with all her might and then ran full-tilt in search of a better location to strategize.

Rebecca and Heather wound up traversing uneven soil and tripped simultaneously. From that point on, they were both too busy giggling to pursue each other in earnest. They faked left and right and jogged in circles. When they found themselves face-to-face again, they reached the unspoken decision that enough was enough. Heather separated her snowball into two, one for each hand, and Rebecca held her arm at the ready. Rebecca’s fingers whacked against Heather’s side while Heather sandwiched Rebecca’s face between both palms. They erupted in uncontrollable laughter and hugged.

“Oh, come on!” Paula groused from her seat on the cabin steps. “Where’s the carnage?”

Scott tapped her knee and pointed to the far side of the clearing. “I think that might be coming up.”

Valencia wove through a copse of trees. She held her coat in a cup formation stuffed with snowballs that were perilously close to leaving the makeshift pouch. Her arm windmilled every so often with remarkable force, leaving her tracker to dodge the sudden breeze past his ears. Nathaniel paced himself with an armload of ready-made orbs condensed for swift delivery. Those he let loose tumbled to the earth or broke against bark on the trunks. Nothing found its mark.

“Make a stand and take your shot, V!” Heather projected the command to carry across the distance between them.

“Yeah, avenge your lady!” Tommy added from the porch railing.

The adversaries returned to the middle of the playing space and paused to catch their breath.

“Yoga and spinning are non-confrontational,” Valencia panted. “This is seriously not my area of expertise.”

“Follow your gut,” Paula recommended, although her tone and premature wince indicated that she was not optimistic about the outcome.

Nathaniel wound back his arm. Valencia did as her friend told her and took action on instinct. She launched herself at an angle, shoes-first, to glide past Nathaniel’s feet. He adjusted the throw and caught her on the clavicle. Her snowball flew back at a curve and nailed the small of his spine.

The assembled companions reacted as one with exclamations and applause. Nathaniel held out a hand for Valencia. She stood without assistance and shook the outstretched palm.

“Good game?” Nathaniel said cautiously.

Valencia bared her teeth in a terrifying smile. “Prepárate, gigante. Próxima vez, peleamos en mis términos.”

Nathaniel gave a respectful nod. “Comprendo.”

They returned to the warmth of the cabin, exhausted but happy. Rebecca helped Nathaniel remove his silver and green scarf and they commandeered the coziest couch in front of the fireplace. Paula went in search of extra towels and blankets while her husband and son retreated to the bathroom to drape their wet winter gear over the tub. Heather and Valencia walked to their bedroom and the waiting comfy clothes in their luggage.

“Oh my God, my thighs are like a fire engine,” Valencia announced as she sat on the bed. Heather knelt and rubbed the numb skin until the friction started to drive the discoloration away. She received thanks in the form of a grateful nuzzle before Valencia crossed the room to find the fluffiest pajamas available.

While Heather tugged on a sweater and sweatpants, Valencia rolled up an already used pair of leggings and crammed them against the crack below the door.

“What are you up to over there?” Heather inquired without facing her.

“Soundproofing.” Valencia twisted the lock with a click.

Heather climbed into bed and turned down the other side to make space for Valencia. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

“Mm, I figured the others might appreciate it.”

“I’m sure they do.”

Valencia wriggled under the comforter and pulled Heather toward her. “We’ve got at least an hour before dinner’s ready.”

Heather inched Valencia’s shirt collar aside gradually and trailed kisses all the way to her shoulder. “Are you sure that’ll be enough time?”

“Maybe.” Valencia maneuvered by degrees until Heather was horizontal against the mattress. She tugged Heather’s earlobe with her teeth and wrapped one leg around her waist. “If we start right now.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #Me? Jumping at the chance for a season-centric fluff fest? Pfft -- Yes. Yes every single time.#Admittedly this installment is more large group-focused and Helencia-lite until close to the end but *shrug*#I was enjoying tagging along for the fun too much to resist. :P

9 notes · View notes