#i have a travel hangover so catch me on the couch the rest of the night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

natashacoco · 3 years

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Hi angel, here's my request!

Flo and reader have mutual friends but aren't close since both of them are always traveling, till one morning when Florian wakes up at his friends house after this party and has a massive hangover, he walks to the kitchen and finds reader baking something for the guys and after some chit chat they just click. The end of the story it's up to you, steamy or fluff I simply adore your writing, she could take care of him or something. 🤷🏾‍♀️

I love this request! Here you are babe, hope you love it! And happy New Year’s Eve/New Year. Got this done just in time for the end of the year.

Florian Munteanu x Mutual Friend! Reader

The scene in front of you was something straight out of a Hollywood party scene. The night was slowly trickling into the early hours of the morning, a few stragglers littered here and there as you and your girlfriends made it back to the rented Airbnb. You passed by a large body passed out in the lawn, chuckling as you walked by at how crazy the party seemed to have gotten.

You’d just recently gotten home from taking a solo six month long round the world trip. You had saved your money for two years, researched, planned and counted the days and hours until you finally set foot on the plane to your first destination. To say that the time spent abroad was something you’d not only needed, but accomplished on your own was a feat. You were able to do this on your own, and now nothing was out of the realm of possibilities for you and your future.

The girls had all decided that a night out on the town was needed as a welcome home celebration, especially considering you’d made it home in time for the New Year. You all had dressed to the nines, outfits, hair, makeup, everything was on point. You’d gone out to dinner followed by hours of dancing and drinking at the newest and most exclusive nightclub in town until you decided to call it quits for the evening.

One of the girls boyfriend had rented out the large home as a mashup of a New Year’s party and apparently some kind of party for somebody, you’re not exactly sure who the person is but it must be something big for them to go all out like this.

Following the rest of the girls into the house, soft music is playing off in the distance somewhere, empty bottles of alcohol, cups, plates, and other miscellaneous items are strewn about. You even notice a bra hanging off the banister of the stairway.

You all make your way into the kitchen, pouring yourselves a drink and continue the vibe set before in the evening. You notice another tall guy, this one dressed in a white tee and jeans and a chain that captures the light and makes it hard for you not to stare at him. From the look of things, he is completely plastered in the corner, using his hands like little guns and giggling like a schoolgirl and you can’t help but to laugh. A few of the guys end up joining you and you all catch up, relaying tales of your time abroad.

A short while later people start to head to bed, or find places to sleep. Remembering the guy in the lawn from earlier. “Hey, you guys do know that there’s some big ass white boy in the front lawn right?” You ask, wanting to make sure that he’s accounted for, or at least know he’s there.

“When you say ‘Big Ass White Boy’ are you referring to Florian or somebody else?” your friend Lorenzo asks.

“Don’t know a Florian, so maybe?” you reply.

“You know Florian, Romanian-German guy, tall as a house, corn fed and built like a eighteen wheeler, any of that sound familiar?” he questions.

You look at him with a confused face, nothing of that making any sense to you with that description.

“He’s Mike’s friend, the guy who played Viktor Drago opposite him in Creed II, and he just got cast in Marvel’s Shang-Chi.”

“Oh right, right, right. That guy, I haven’t met him-met him. I think I was told about him in passing, or we always seem to miss one another at parties or get together” you reply.

“I saw him earlier over in the corner, I think he was doing some gun things with his fingers or whatnot. I think I took a video, here, take a look” you friend Cristina says, pulling out her phone and pulling up one of her Snapchat stories. You take a look and immediately recognize the guy from earlier. You look through the stories and see some of his other hilarious drunken shenanigans and tell them that the man you mentioned earlier wasn’t him.

“The guy in the lawn is Masias, one of Sandro and Florian’s friends, more like brother. I think the guys are getting back at him for pulling some kind of prank. Just leave him out there, he’s too big for him to carry” another friend, Theo, replies.

Sleep starts to take over and the last of the party goers decide to call it quits for the night. Those of you who are staying at the house make your way upstairs to begin your nighttime routines. On your way upstairs you see a few guys sleeping on the couch and notice Florian among one of them, his large body taking up a large portion of the couch. An idea comes to mind and you go in search of the linen closet.

Finding a few blankets, you grab a stack and head back downstairs to those sleeping, placing them over each of the bodies to make them comfortable. When you reach Florian, you shake out one of the larger blankets and place it over him. You must have done something to momentarily startle him from his sleep because his eyes snap open suddenly in a sleepy haze.

“Wo bin ich? (Where am I?)” he asks in German.

“Shh, sorry to wake you up, go back to sleep, yeah.” you whisper and nod your head, tightening the blanket around him.

He nods his head in agreement before he closes his eyes and settles into a more comfortable position before falling back asleep. You grab the last of the blankets and make your way outside to the lawn and place it over Masias, making sure that he’s as comfortable as comfort gets for somebody sleeping outside. Heading back inside, you finally make it to bed and settle in.

You wake up early the next morning despite only getting a few hours of sleep, your body still not use to the current timezone you’re in. You decide to get up, the cry of breakfast foods pulling you out of the warmth of your bed.

Making your way down to the kitchen, you rummage through the fridge and freezer until you find some food. You decide on making pancakes, eggs, hash browns, bacon, fresh fruit, coffee, juice, the entire works. You look outside the window, taking a sip of your drink and are amazed to find the now dubbed Sleeping Giant still asleep outside.

“What are you looking at?” a deep voice behind you asks, startling you into giving off a high pitched shriek, almost throwing your drink in the air.

You whip your head around to face the voice and have to crane your neck up to face Florian, his eyes lit up with curiosity as he looks down at you.

“Um, there’s a guy who is currently sleeping outside, he’s been there since last night and I’m just surprised to see him still out there.”

He looks past you to peek outside the window and starts to laugh. “I was wondering where they ended up putting Masias” he says. “I better go and get him, I’m sure the hangover and all the pics the guys took of him is going to be worse than anything else.”

“Oh don’t worry, the sprinkler system will be turning on in about 5 minutes,” You reply. “But I was planning on manually turning them on in about 3.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, his entire body shaking until his laughter starts to sound like some kind of sprinkler system. He wipes at his eyes with the back of one of his large hands and when he’s done laughing, he turns back to the window just as the sprinkler system starts to pop up from the ground and the entire lawn is sprayed with water.

“Well it looks like I may have been wrong about the sprinkler timing.”

Masias’s head pops up in confusion, just as water is sprayed in his face. He gets up quickly, shouting and what you can only come to the conclusion of swearing in German before he looks around at his surroundings to see where he’s at.

Florain runs outside and helps Masias inside, the two of them laughing hysterically. When they return, the three of you start to plate your food and make your way to the kitchen table. The smell of the food permeates throughout the house and soon enough others join you all.

Florian ends up sitting next to you, multiple plates all but licked clean as the two of you get to talking. “I’m Florian Munteanu, by the way” he says, “I don’t think I introduced myself to you earlier.”

“You were a little busy, it’s okay. I’m Y/N Y/L/N” extending your hand out to his larger one to shake it.

“Wait, YOU’RE Y/N?” he asks, his eyes going wide in shock.

“Yes. Why do you say it like that?” you question.

“Oh, it’s, it’s just that everybody is always telling me that we would get along if we met, and every time it seems to happen it seems like we always end up missing one another somehow. ”

“Yeah, life somehow turns out like that, but look at us now, we finally met.”

“Honestly, last night when I saw you I thought I was imagining things, imagine my shock when it turns out I wasn’t actually crazy. I’m glad that we finally got to meet.”

“It may have taken us some time, but we made it., it only took us what, 84 years?” You say, referencing The Titanic.

“84 years and worth the wait. Plus, it’s not at a better moment in time I say.”

“How’s that?” you ask.

“It’s New Year’s Eve Y/N, what’s a better start to the New Year than getting the opportunity to get to know you, and I fully intend to get to know you, if that’s okay with you?”

“I would really like that.”

The two of you continue talking throughout the morning, the both of you talking about some of your favorite New Year’s traditions, him telling you about some of the Romanian traditions, such as tossing money into water where people wash their hands, him giving a little sample of Plugusorul and Sorcova-songs that wish good luck, happiness and success for the New Year. You tell him of your own New Year’s traditions, those from your own background and ones you’ve come to make on your own, and something deep down tells you that somehow you and Florian will be making even more in the New Year’s to come.

#florian munteanu #big nasty #florian big nasty munteanu #ask #requested #superficialfeelings #florian munteanu x reader

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moon-kn1ght · 3 years

Text

stay.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of high school, mentions of shrek the musical (i’m sry), fluff, pining,

A/N: this is for @emmikmil! I’ve had so much fun writing this for you and dropping by your ask box often. I hope you enjoy! thank you to @wyn-dixie for the beta!

listen to a similarly vibed playlist here || masterlist

“I just don’t get how I was able to spend so much time away from you Marcus!!” you laugh at your friend on the couch next to you, “Eight years later, and your movie commentary is still making me laugh my ass off.” The credits roll on the movie that you two had been watching, and even though the movie had not originally been a comedy, Marcus Pike had made you laugh so much that your abs hurt.

“Now that we’re both in D.C., I can tell you that you’re going to get tired of it. I may be older but my time in the FBI has stunted my humor level back to where it was in high school,” Marcus jeered. His smile had the same youthful exuberance that it did when you two were kids, working for the government hadn’t taken that away yet. His eyes still held that warm kindness that had drawn you to be his friend all those years ago.

You and Marcus were best friends back in your shared hometown of Troy, Ohio. You two had bonded at age fourteen over a desire to get the hell out of your small town. While your friendship was built on a mutual distaste of home, it grew to be much more than that. Your high school years were remembered with moments of utter joy with Marcus by your side.

There were summer adventures into the countryside to find streams to swim in to beat the unbearable heat. There were late night ‘study sessions’ that routinely involved borrowing Marcus’s older sister’s car to go get McDonald’s and sit and talk for hours. You went to every single one of his football games (even though he was third string). And you were there the one game in four years that he was on the field and caught a pass that resulted in a game-winning touchdown.

He was there for your break-out role as the Gingerbread Man in the school’s production of Shrek the Musical. He saw it every night. And he was there when your date to junior-year homecoming didn’t show up, and even though he vowed to not go to a school dance that year, he stepped in as your last-minute date (and funny enough, your original date showed up with a black eye on Monday, but you never heard the details…).

Maybe you’ve been apart for longer than you two actually knew each other, but the friendship that you two shared in those years could have been enough to last a lifetime. Luckily, with both of you now working in D.C., it doesn’t have to be. Maybe now you can experience another lifetime of friendship, but this time as adults.

You have been silent for a moment too long when Marcus interrupts, “Hey, you still here?”

“Sorry, yeah,” you respond. “I was just thinking about how you never told me how my ex-homecoming date, Brian, ended up with a black eye after he stood me up?”

The memory makes him laugh, “That information is on a need-to-know basis. But what I can say is that conversation was quite helpful to draw on when I was learning interrogation skills at Quantico.”

“I KNEW IT!!” you yelp. You grab the throw pillow from your side of the couch and reel back to playfully hit him with it, but he’s too quick—he reaches and yanks it out of your hands, landing his own solid thwack against your stomach. This elicits a squeal from you, “HEY! Not fair, Mr. FBI. You can’t use your super-agent skills against me, that’s got to be a ground rule.”

“I was only acting in self-defense,” he contends, but releases the offending pillow from his grasp. “But if you insist, I will let you take a retaliatory hit at me, to keep things fair.”

“Hmmm. Now I don’t trust you, Pike. I’m pretty sure you’re the type that would remember where I’m …” You were going to finish the sentence with the word ‘ticklish,’ but you can see the shift in Marcus’s eyes, meaning he knew the end of your sentence before you said it. He lunges towards you, and you’re able to call out an “OH NO!” before he’s on top of you, hands attacking the spots on your body that, of course, he does remember are ticklish.

Everything devolves into laughter. Radiant joy fills your living room, joy that you haven’t experienced in so long.

When you’re able to squirm away and catch your breath, you release a thought that had been on your mind all night, “Marcus, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You could live forever in the incredibly tender way that he looks at you.

“I’ve missed you too, Ging” he says, reminding you of your high school nickname that formed from your silly but wonderful role in the musical. Like old times, Marcus can still sense the melancholy that hides behind your smile, “hey, we both did it. We made it out. And now we’ve found each other again. Nothing is going to take you away from me now, friends for life, remember?”

You two hug, and time could stop for all you care.

—X—

“I can’t believe I let you drag me to a Quantico bar!” you grumble humorously as you slide out of the Uber you and Marcus shared back to your place. “I know So Many great bars in D.C. proper, and I let you drag me to the suburbs, just to be ogled by a bunch of middle-aged men in ill-fitting suits. I’m never going to forgive you for this one.”

You both are laughing in earnest at your condemnation of the rather dive-y establishment you both got probably a little too toasted at for a Thursday night. You were right, the place was filled with the Special Agent-type that Marcus worked with every day, which is likely why it was tinted in rose-color in his memory.

“In my defense, I am not a woman, so how could I…” the words drunkenly tumble from Marcus’s lips. “Wait I take that back, let me rephrase…”

You spin around to shoot lasers into Marcus as his drunk ramble verges on being problematic. You wag your finger at him, “Hey, watch it captain.” He stops in his tracks and you, tipsy as well, step towards him, maintaining eye contact and continuing the silly motion of your finger, until you two are a breath apart.

He doesn’t back up, in fact, he leans into the proximity of your bodies. “Yes ma’am, I’m gonna shut up, I promise,” he blathers. You rest your palms against his chest, fingers grabbing at his wrinkled dress shirt. The alcohol coursing through your veins is giving you a confidence that you weren’t quite ever able to manifest in all those years ago. His hands come up to rest against your upper arms, not pushing you away but also not yet closing the remaining distance between your bodies.

“Yeah, you better. If you don’t, I’ll have to…” your thought stops short from completing as what’s left of your sober brain starts to comprehend how much contact you have with Marcus. Heat and energy pass through each junction of your bodies, his fingers on your arms, your hands against his muscled chest. Were your feet touching too?

“Or you’ll have to what?” Marcus probes, finally releasing the breath he took in the moment your bodies touched.

His voice prompts you to look up from where you had been staring intently into the wrinkles of his once-pristine dress shirt. His eyes are boring holes into where he’d been staring at your head, desperately waiting for you to do something.

Gods, you want to kiss him so badly right now. You want to kiss him hard and desperate to make up for all the years apart. You want to kiss him soft and tender, so he’ll never leave again.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? You can’t destroy this absolutely magnetic friendship that you’ve regained after all these years, just for one kiss. But what if he does feel the same way?

You break away from Marcus. You can feel the energy that’s been coursing through your body from his break as you sever each individual point of contact. You can feel each finger leave the surface of his chest and travel through the suddenly chillier D.C. air. His hands slide down your arms. The last of the contact of your bodies breaks as he squeezes his thumb and pointer finger against your pinky.

“I should go,” Marcus says, fracturing the prolonged eye contact by looking down to the pavement. You look down too, your energy shattered by the sudden loss of contact. “Let’s do this again.” The sound of his voice still holds the joy that filled you both tonight, even as his eyes search the ground for something better to say.

—X—

He always smelled like cedarwood. You can still smell it around you as you close your front door and lean back against it. You know you're going to feel this emptiness tomorrow, a different kind of hangover than the tequila sitting in your stomach threatens you with.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and you jump out of your disappointment. You look out the peephole and it’s Marcus, fidgeting awkwardly. You open the door, “Hey, did you forget some...” you start to ask but he cuts you off.

“Hey sorry for probably scaring you, but I felt something back there. I don’t know if you felt the same thing, but I was wondering if I could kiss you? And if the answer is no, we can forget …” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him. You grab a hold of his shirt in the same place you held him in the parking lot. You pull against him and he leans down and kisses you.

It’s like something in each of you breaks. A floodgate of emotion opens, channeled through this kiss. Your lips search each other for answers you’ve been longing for since the beginning of time.

One of his hands holds your face, while the other finally roams your body. It’s almost as if he’s charting himself a map, so he’ll never lose you again. It traces down your neck, across your shoulders, phantom fingers on your breasts. You’re not sure if his hand is leaving icicles or flames in its wake, but he has every nerve in your body standing on end.

You break from this kiss, but you don’t travel further than to just murmur against his lips. “Marcus are you sure?” you whisper.

He looks down at you and his eyes shine with more joy than you’d ever seen. You cup his cheek in your hand and all his words, all his ability to profess his love dies in his throat because of the simple gesture. He smiles and nods and whispers your name. You could get used to this, the feeling of his lips on yours and your bodies locked together.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” Marcus says, reading your mind.

“Yes. Forever,” you reply and kiss him again.

fin.

#sl fic challenge #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the mentalist fanfiction #the mentalist #my writing

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

like i do (sokka x reader) modern!au

hello :) this is part 2 to this lil thing i did a little bit ago! loosely based off of ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap! so give that a listen if u want :)

also...just a smidge 18+ ! all characters are adults

She pouted at him, her heels dangling in her hand. “I couldn’t walk all the way home,” She said.

Sokka chuckled as he brought her inside. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” He sat her at the kitchen table and went to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water and grab some Advil for the hangover he knew she’d have in the morning. “Didja have fun?”

Sokka, for lack of a better word, was fucked.

It had been a few weeks since (Y/N) had pulled him from his hole and forced him to go outside. Since then, she had spent nearly every day at his apartment. He didn’t mind. He welcomed it, really. Having (Y/N) around was a nice distraction from the heartbreak that had been crippling him from weeks. She brought her schoolwork with her during the weekdays and worked on assignments while he lounged around his apartment. He’d hover over her shoulders as she studied and asked that she explain what she was learning to him. Sokka had never been particularly interested in academics, but when they came from her mouth, he was completely entranced. She had a way of making even the most mundane things sound exciting.

On weekends, they got breakfast together in the mornings. Sometimes she would stick around for lunch, but usually she went home and spent some time to herself. “I’m just a text away,” She would say before she left, a bright smile resting on her pretty lips. And she stuck by that. More often than not, Sokka found himself calling her just because he missed the sound of her voice.

He realized what this looked like of course, and that scared him. (Y/N) had been one of his closest friends before he had started dating Yue and he worried that if things changed between them, he’d lose her again. So he kept it to himself, not even sharing his feelings with Zuko or Aang. And he definitely couldn’t tell Katara, because while she was his sister, she was also (Y/N’s) best friend and he had learned a long time ago that the two had absolutely no secrets between them. So Sokka was perfectly fine just hanging out with (Y/N) and enjoying her company.

That was, until the dreams started. He would shoot up in bed, sweat peppered across his tanned skin as he tried to catch his breath. If he closed his eyes, he would see the images again. Limbs tangled together, her nails pressing into his biceps as his head dipped into the spot between her neck and shoulder. Even though it was a dream, he could feel her breath against the shell of his ear and hear her soft little moans as her eyes squeezed shut. They had started out as being few and far in between, but recently they had become an every-night occurrence. When he saw her in the mornings, he would try his best to suppress the memories into the back of his mind. Some days it was harder than others.

So yes, Sokka was royally screwed, and this fact was confirmed further when (Y/N) arrived on his doorstep on a warm Saturday night, absolutely wasted. Her hair was tousled and her makeup was smudged, but as Sokka opened the door, he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She pouted at him, her heels dangling in her hand. “I couldn’t walk all the way home,” She said.

(Y/N) huffed as she adjusted the little black dress she was wearing. “Not even a little bit. Zuko was in a horrible mood.”

Sokka straightened up a bit. “You went out with Zuko?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. (Y/N) hummed in acknowledgement.

“It was supposed to be like, a date, I guess, but who even brings their date to a club? It was too loud and he hates being around people, I don’t even know why he brought me there.” Sokka brought the glass of water and medicine to her, which she gratefully accepted. She popped the pill in her mouth and chugged the water.

“More?” Sokka asked. She nodded. “Maybe Zuko wanted to try something new?”

“Whatever he did, it was weird. We got into a fight.” She stood. “Can I borrow some clothes? I don’t wanna wear this dress anymore.”

“Sure,” Sokka said. He imagined that she’d come back wearing an oversized Water Tribe t-shirt and some pajama pants, but when he turned around he almost choked when he saw her. She wore one of his grey hoodies that was much too large for her. Its sleeves went past her fingertips and it came down just a little bit above her knees. “Are you wearing pants?”

(Y/N) giggled and shook her head. “Nope! I never sleep in pants.” She paused as she made her way to the couch. “I can sleep here, right?”

“Of course!” Sokka said, perhaps a bit too excitedly. (Y/N) smiled, hugging a throw pillow close to her chest. “What did, uh, you and Zuko fight about?”

(Y/N) groaned, tossing her head back. “He thought I was flirting with the bouncer and I was like dude, chill out, I’m barely even flirting with you!” She pursed her lips. “I think that made him mad, because he didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”

“You know how Zuko is,” Sokka said with a wave of his hand. “He’ll be fine in the morning.” (Y/N) patted the cushion beside her, and he sat down with a grunt. She cuddled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder. This wasn’t a new position for them, but Sokka felt hyper aware of every movement she made. She wrapped her arms around his.

“You’re right,” She said as her eyes fluttered shut. Sokka squirmed under her touch and cleared his throat.

“Do you...do you think you’ll go out with him again?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. I wanna sleep.” She whined as Sokka stood up and she flopped over on the couch.

“C’mon, you can have my bed tonight.” He took her by the hand and led her into his bedroom. It was small, but just big enough to fit a king sized bed. It went wall-to-wall and was covered in furs from back home. It was easily (Y/N’s) favorite part of the apartment, as she had told him this many times.

She crawled into bed and although he wasn’t trying to look, he caught a peak of her bum. He looked away quickly, trying to suppress the blush that was raising to his cheeks. She burrowed herself underneath the blankets and was asleep within seconds. Sokka smiled at her before grabbing a pillow and blanket and making a bed for himself on the couch. He fell asleep to the sound of the George Lopez theme song.

When (Y/N) woke up, she was heavily disoriented. It took her a few minutes to register where she was. Sokka’s bed. She looked at the clock on his bedside table. It read, 4:36 AM. And then, the dream came back. A murderer chasing her through a dark forest. She tripped over tree roots and her own feet, causing him to catch up to her. She woke up right before he plunged a knife into her heart.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and the shadows of the room struck fear into her, even though she knew she was being irrational. Quietly, she slid out of bed and tip-toed to the living room, where Sokka was snoring peacefully on the couch. “Sokka?” She whispered.

She walked over to where he lay and poked him with her finger. “Sokka!” She whispered again. He sat up, obviously confused. (Y/N) felt bad for waking him up, but she could count on her hands and feet times when Sokka had rudely awoken her, so she thought this was well-deserved.

“What time is it?” He asked, squinting to look at the TV clock. “Are you okay? Did you throw up? I have a mop in the broom closet.” He stood to go get the mop but (Y/N) grabbed him by the wrist.

“No, I didn’t get sick,” She said quietly. “I had a nightmare. Really scary.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “I was wondering if you could sleep in the bed with me? It’s pretty big and I can stay close to the wall so we have enough space.”

“Definitely,” Sokka said. He gave her a sleepy smile and followed her back to his room. They both crawled into the bed, staying as close to their respective walls as possible.

“Goodnight, Sokka,” She said.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

When Sokka awoke the next morning, he was no longer near the wall. During the night, he and (Y/N) had traveled to the middle of the bed. Her head rested on his chest, her arm slung around her waist, and Sokka had one arm around her shoulders. Their legs were completely tangled. He listened to (Y/N) breathe softly as she slept. He could stay like this forever, he thought.

(Y/N) woke up a few hours later, rolling over and stretching her limbs. She nearly hit Sokka in the face. “How long have you been up?” She asked.

“A couple hours,” He said. (Y/N) furrowed her brows at him.

“Sokka! You should’ve woken me up.”

“But you looked so pretty while you slept.” Both realized what he had said after he said it, and both felt their cheeks get extremely hot. (Y/N) crawled to the edge of the bed and unlocked her phone. She sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Zuko wants to get lunch today.” She turned back to Sokka. “I care about Zuko a lot, but I don’t really feel like seeing him today.”

“Then don’t.” She laughed. “No, I’m serious. Stay here today.” Sokka’s voice was oddly steady. He crawled over to her. (Y/N) hadn’t noticed it when she had brought him into the room last night, but he had changed into blue checkered pajama pants and nothing else. She swallowed. His face was so close to hers. Her eyes flitted down to his lips for a second before she looked away. She stood up.

“I might just hang out at my apartment. Could I borrow a pair of pants? I’ll wash them, I just don’t wanna do a fake walk of shame back to mine.” Sokka grabbed her hand.

“(Y/N)...” He started, but she closed her eyes tight and shook her head. She knew what he was about to say, and while it was something she had been wanting to hear for years, she wasn’t sure if she was ready. If he was even ready enough to mean it. “I want you to stay with me, please.”

“I can’t, Sokka.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Her eyes shot open. “I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t even think you do. Something like this isn’t a joke to me.”

“Who says it’s a joke to me?” She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“How do I know you’re being for real?” She whispered. “That you’re not just saying this to help you get over Yue?”

Sokka’s blue eyes searched her face, his brows furrowed in confusion. “(Y/N), the weeks we’ve spent together, I’ve been happier than I’ve been in years. Happier than I’ve been with anyone else. I’ve been in love with you for so long! Ask Katara!”

(Y/N) laughed. “You’re so dumb! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to be with the guy who dropped out of college.”

(Y/N) grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him. Sokka’s eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her down so she could sit on his lap. When they pulled away to breathe, he smiled up at her.

“So you’ll stay with me?” (Y/N) nodded, a shy smile playing at her lips. “Forever?” She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss , @mdgrdians , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @aimee1602 , @awesomelupe , @itsivyberry

#writing #fanfiction #atla #sokka x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #katara #sokka #zuko #aang #toph #iroh #azula #suki #modern au #momo #appa #woohoo happy!!

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

Winners’ Drive

Pairing: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts Rating: T Word Count: 1274

Summary:

"Oh, and about sex... Forget it." - Benny Watts, The Queen's Gambit

Beth quickly agrees to Benny's terms and he decides to remain at the bar. In all the drunken lecturing that follows, he makes one comment that stands out. It's still in Beth's head the next day as they drive from Ohio to New York.

“Consider it forgotten,” Beth pipes up, light and quick.

Benny, in the process of rising from his stool, turns back with an expression of disbelief. His eyes narrow.

“You said you like my hair.”

“And I’ll never give you a compliment again if it’s going to scare you off like that. I think you’ll take it pretty hard though, not being flattered during all the matches we’re going to play when we get to New York.”

“Words,” he says, wagging a ringed finger at her as he retakes his seat. “Words would’ve been a compliment. You touched me.”

She rolls her eyes flippantly.

“Please. We’ve shaken hands, you have a habit of grabbing my shoulder,” Beth rattles off. “We touch all the time.”

He inhales through his nose, directing his incredulous look at the beer bottle still resting in front of him.

“Not like that.”

“You make it sound inappropriate.”

“It was, though I guess you didn’t understand that until I explicitly told you to forget about sex.”

She flips her hand in a vague gesture. Perhaps her pale inner wrist is a show of vulnerability when he normally only sees the back of her wrist, during play.

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” she says.

Benny looks up and over at her with a knowing smile.

“I’ve had the same and somehow, I don’t think you’re compromised in the slightest.”

Beth just smiles and raises her beer to her lips, holding his gaze as she swallows. With a sigh, he swipes his own bottle from the bar and joins her.

“Benny,” she says wryly, “is that wise?”

“Long drive tomorrow. Might as well be hungover for it. That’ll give me something to think about.”

She snorts.

“You could always talk to me.”

That seems to remind him of the arrangement they’ve lately made, whereby she sleeps on his couch by night and receives tutelage from him by day. Though she’s just beaten him, he has the audacity to pull her side of their match apart, belatedly coaching her through all the other moves she could’ve made at various points, as though he’s forgotten that she saw all of those variations in her mind throughout. It’s infuriating. His inclination to patronize her until she pushes back makes her wonder how they’re going to survive until Paris. The insistent, instructive tone also makes her want to laugh. There are probably people, probably lots of people, with whom Beth would have an easier time getting along. But there’s nobody she’d rather get along with than Benny.

At the bottom of the bottle, he signals for another and switches from recent to distant past, schooling her on historic matches (she’s already intimately familiar with all but one of his examples). He leaps from one to the next, referring to a handful, a dozen, in the same sentence, never waiting for her or checking that she’s keeping up. She is. She hasn’t lifted her drink since the last time, too fixated on watching Benny talk chess, which is possibly even more engaging than watching him play. Quite a feat. When he speaks—which is in a constant stream—he seems to be voicing her thoughts as they happen. He was right, in the cafeteria last night. They’re totally aligned. They see things the same way. If Beth could hold a conversation with herself, it would be exactly this. Subtracting the odd condescending look he shoots her way when she argues with him.

Eventually, softened by the tolerable amount of alcohol and the lateness of the hour, she props her cheek in her hand and teases him for his proclivity for impromptu lecturing. Benny holds himself together well, but his eyes are glassy from the beer and the impassioned chess sermon, his smile wavering woozily. He stares at her for a solid minute with his dark eyes and she (wrongly) assumes he’s searching his soused brain for a snappy comeback.

“I like your hair too,” he says.

Trying not to let the thrill of the implication show on her face, Beth unhurriedly crosses her legs, smooths her skirt, and stretches her foot towards him until she can run the side of it up his shin. A strange expression comes over his features. He reaches out, aiming for her hair, or maybe her cheek, but struggling to gauge precisely how far away she’s sitting. Smiling, she sighs and briefly clasps his hand in hers, only long enough to lower it and give it a consoling pat.

“Come on, Benny. You’ve had enough.”

—

“Where am I?” he asks groggily from the backseat. Then, scrambling up (she knows because he grabs at her seat and it tugs her blouse), he repeats the question.

“In the car,” Beth answers, smiling to herself and keeping her eyes forward.

“And where is the car, Beth?”

“On the road,” she replies in Russian.

He waves her off with clear irritation as he twists and heaves to climb from the backseat to the front. Thumping down into the passenger seat, he glares at her. She catches it in the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “it sounded like a question from one of my lessons. You could try to occasionally sound less pedagogical.”

“It’s too early for that shit.”

“Too early for preparing for my future as a chess player? That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Oh, and I’m patronizing?” He groans, so she doesn’t respond. “I feel like death. How’d I get in the car?”

“You walked. I helped a little.”

He huffs through his nose.

“Well,” Beth argues against that doubtful noise, “you said last night that you wanted to leave for New York in the afternoon. I prefer travelling early, and you certainly weren’t in any shape to drive.”

“For all I remember, I never proposed any plan to bring you there and this is a kidnapping.”

“Yes, I’m going to hold the great Benny Watts for ransom. You’ve found me out.”

“The cheerful sarcasm is giving me a headache.”

“That would be your hangover at work.”

At last, he laughs. She glances over to see him stretching his legs as far forward as he can in this cute little car. She shouldn’t say anything. Not a word. But.

“You said you liked my hair too.”

The road’s empty, so Beth chances a longer look at Benny when he doesn’t respond. He clears his throat and delivers his excuse.

“I had a lot to drink. Too much.”

“You did,” she agrees.

His gaze wanders over to hers and she snaps her eyes straight ahead. She can feel him about to say something; it unnerves her and she adjusts her grip on the wheel. He isn’t ready to admit his attraction to her while sober, he’s already proven that, but she isn’t an overly patient person. She goes out and does things for herself, including opening up the opportunity for Benny to possibly say that his bullshit no-sex rule was only voiced because he’s as afraid as she is. Afraid to want and need. Beth holds her chin high, knowing he’s not about to do anything more to end her loneliness than give up his couch and drill her on chess maneuvers. Maybe she’ll forget that they ever came close.

The rising sun is in her eyes. She squints into the defiant burn on the horizon as she continues to steer them east.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nods.

“Why the hell are you wearing my hat?”

Beth laughs and lifts a hand to touch the brim.

“I like it,” she says. “What do you have to say to that?”

#my writing #The Queen's Gambit #Beth Harmon #Benny Watts #beth x benny

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mountainsluna · 4 years

Text

good intentions

request: Seonghwa scenario in which the reader falls into bad habits after breaking up, if u want to you can make it fluff at the end

pairing: seonghwa x reader

genre: angst + fluff ending

word count: 1.9k

✩ [author’s note] this...this hurt :’( i love seonghwa so much my soft hearted baby :’(

✩ masterlist

✩ requests : check bio or masterlist ♡

Seonghwa always had the best intentions when it came to you. He wanted you happy whether that was with or without him. When you came into his life, he knew you were absolutely everything he had ever wanted. But good things could only last so long.

After he started his new job he ended up being a lot busier than he thought he’d be, traveling to different cities and countries nearly every week. It led to him only ever seeing you once a month or so. He couldn’t stand it, he hated feeling like he was neglecting you, no matter how much you reassured him that things would be okay he didn’t listen.

“Y/n I’m sorry, I just can’t put you through this anymore...You don’t deserve it. You deserve someone who can be there for you whenever you need them and I can’t be that.” His eyes were already glossing over as he spoke to you.

“Hwa, I’ve been okay these past nine months... No it’s not ideal but it’s worth it to be with you. I love you so much and I know you love me too, it doesn’t make sense for us to break up like this.” You pleaded to him at your apartment door. He hadn’t even wanted to come inside, worried he’d cave and not say what he went there to say.

“I do love you, so much. That’s why I have to do this. It’d be selfish of me to keep you... I’m so sorry.” His hands that were wrapped around yours, now letting them down slowly.

“Seonghwa...please...” You breathed shakily, tears already streaming down your face. Seonghwa couldn’t bare to look at you as he turned away. Leaving you a sobbing, heartbroken mess at your own doorstep.

You hated to admit you cried for nearly two days straight after your breakup. The shock and denial of it all was taking a toll on you in the worst ways. As the weekend approached your friends decided you needed to get out, dragging you to a local club to loosen you up a bit. You hadn’t been much of drinker, letting yourself get tipsy only on occasion but maybe this was what you needed.

The first sip of alcohol had your body warming up nicely, filling you with the relief you had been dying for as it coursed through your veins. After about three more drinks, the memory of your ex boyfriend was nearly forgotten.

The next morning you were definitely regretting your drink choices from the night before. But by that evening you were ready to go again, craving the break the alcohol brought from your thoughts.

When Monday arrived, your classes had been extra rough on you. On your walk home you decided to stop at the convenient store for food. Your eyes skimming over the wine section. You grabbed a couple of bottles, thinking they’d hold you for the next month or so.

But the bottles only lasted about four days. Not including Wednesday because Yeosang and Wooyoung had invited you to happy hour at their favorite bar and you had agreed a bit too eagerly.

Now it was the weekend and you were ready to go out again.

Seonghwa noticed your frequent outings that first weekend. He was friends with your friends on social media and although you had blocked him, he saw everything through Wooyoung and Yeosang’s profiles.

He hated to admit that after the second night of seeing videos of you downing several hard liquors and shots he was worried. But he knew he was in no position to scold you. He had left you, but he honestly hadn’t expected it to be this hard on you.

That Tuesday he saw Wooyoung’s story, a picture of two wine glasses with you tagged in the second one, letting him know you were drinking again. Then Wednesday when he saw you taking shots of whiskey with the two boys at a local bar. He decided he needed to call you. Whether you listened to him or not, it was getting out of hand. But you didn’t answer.

He even attempted to reach out to your friends but Wooyoung ignored him as well. All he got from Yeosang was a ‘you’re talking to the wrong person. text her, not me.’ When he informed the blonde haired boy that you weren’t responding, Yeosang told him he should ‘take the hint then’ and left it at that.

He was out of town all that week but he wanted so bad to go to your house and beg you to stop, to just stop, He wanted to hold you in his arms again and tell you that you were too precious and important to be doing the things you were doing to yourself but he couldn’t.

Seonghwa was on edge during all of his meetings that Friday, fully expecting to see you getting drunk with your friends again and sure enough, by 10pm on Wooyoung’s story. There you were, dressed in the tightest gray dress he had ever seen you in, downing drinks like a pro as the boys hyped you up. He threw his phone to the other side of the hotel bed. His head falling into his palms as he sighed in frustration.

This whole time he thought he had chosen what was best for you both but maybe he hadn’t. It’s not like had ever stopped loving you. He loved you to death and he missed you more than he could bear. Part of him only watched your friend’s stories so he could catch glimpses of your face. Missing the way you’d smile up at him and how he would pull you into a kiss, loving the way you'd giggle against his lips the longer he’d kiss you.

It wasn’t until Sunday night that he decided enough was enough. He saw a story pop up from a mutual friend of yours, Mingi, who hadn’t come around in awhile. It was a video of a blunt being passed around. The video didn’t show your faces but he recognized your body instantly as you were sitting between Yeosang and Wooyoung in a circle. A shot glass in one hand, as Yeosang handed you the blunt that you took with the other.

He was riding back to his apartment from the airport when he saw it and he knew he had to see you. As soon as he set his bags down, he called another cab to take him straight to your apartment.

It was nearly 1am but he was more determined than he had ever been to be with you. When he knocked on the door there was no answer. He sat on the ground, leaning back against your door as he recalled the events that occurred the last time he was here. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. He thought keeping you was selfish but now he knew trying to push you away was only hurting you both.

He constantly refreshed his feed, until a new story popped up, and he could see you in the backseat of Yeosang’s car, high and drunk off your ass and he nearly started sobbing. He could only pray that Yeosang was bringing you here and not to his or Wooyoung’s apartment.

About twenty minutes had passed when he heard voices coming up the stairs to your floor. He stood up quickly already recognizing Wooyoung’s loud voice. A few seconds later he saw you. Your arms slung over the two boy’s shoulders as they helped you stumble to your apartment.

Yeosang scoffed as he made eye contact with Seonghwa, not paying him any more attention than that. He left you to dangle from Wooyoung’s shoulder as he took your key from your purse to unlock your door.

Wooyoung was the only one to acknowledge Seonghwa. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Seonghwa didn’t really know how to answer the boy. “I-I came to make sure she was okay.”

“What you’re finally feeling guilty or what?” He slurred back at the taller boy. Yeosang told Wooyoung he’d wait for him in the car, not wanting to be in Seonghwa’s presence any longer. He helped you onto your couch, your head hanging low not even realizing Seonghwa was even there.

“Wooyoung...I can take care of her for the night...If you don’t mind..”

The smaller boy looked at him hesitantly not wanting to leave you alone with him at all.

“I...really want to be with her...I miss her so much... I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Wooyoung watched as he caressed your drunken face. Your eyes closed, indefinitely passed out. Even in his own drunken state, he could see the regret Seonghwa had in his eyes, silently pleading to him as they made eye contact.

After a few moments of silence while Wooyoung mulled it over in his head, he agreed. But not after a few select threats from him as he made his way out of the door.

Seonghwa helped you out of your heels and into your bedroom, talking to you in the softest voice. Wanting to make up for all the bad feelings he had caused you. While he was helping you into your sleeping clothes he heard you mumble softly.

“S...Seonghwa?” Your head lulling back as the room began to spin whenever you opened your eyes.

“Shhh, yes my love it’s me. I’m here. Let me lay you down, angel.” You grumbled in response but let him guide you to your pillows, he himself making his way beside you under the covers. Resting your head against him as he stroked your hair, leaving soft kisses on your head, mumbling apologies into your hair.

You woke up the next morning in Seonghwa’s embrace, the feeling of his arms around you startling you as you sat up quickly. Your movements waking Seonghwa as well. “Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Y..you...you’re here?” You stuttered out softly. Wondering if you were still dreaming, you reached up to hold his face. His hand coming up to wrap around your arm.

“Yes my love... I’m here.” He pulled you into his chest, and you accepted, your arm coming to wrap around his abdomen. “I’m here now baby everything’s gonna be okay I promise.” He kissed your head and you nearly teared up at his words, hugging him even tighter. “But...how are you feeling?”

The shock of his presence subsiding as you felt the pang of a hangover in your skull. “I...I have a slight headache but I’ll be okay.”

“My love....I’ll get you some medicine and some water, okay?” He moved to get up but you pulled him against you, not wanting him to leave your side just yet.

“Please...please don’t ever leave me again.” You said against his chest, your eyes closed tightly. You wanted to stay in his arms forever.

He hugged you back with all the strength he could muster without hurting you. “I won’t, angel, I promise. You’re the love of my life, I’m sorry I was so stupid.” He held your head to his chest, breathing out a small sigh of relief knowing you wanted him to stay as much as he wanted to. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hwa.” You picked up your head, kissing him with all the energy you had, making up for every day you two had missed together.

#request #ateez #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa angst #ateez angst #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #wooyoung #yeosang #san #mingi #yunho #jongho #hongjoong

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sadaboutniall · 3 years

Photo

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

sorry I suck at updating. happy valentine’s day, here’s a new chapter!! 💕💕 have a lovely valentine’s

Chapter Eight. May.

When all of this is over, I; Love me like there ain’t another day, lead with the heart, ain’t that the only way? Keep thinking ‘bout how much I changed today.

It’s surprisingly easy, then, for Niall and Lu to figure things out. It’s easy to fall into the routine of two people who can’t get enough of each other—for Niall to swing by the cafe every day after work, and for Lu to clear her weekends to watch Niall coach. They have dinner together more often than not, Ruairí sleeping at Niall’s feet while he sits at Luna’s kitchen table. They kiss on the couch and fuck on a wool blanket in front of the fireplace, Niall’s lips at Luna’s neck, Luna’s fingers clawing down his bare back. Afterwards, she likes to lie with him and trace the scratches with her own fingers, caressing the patterns that mark him as her own.

Niall tells her that if they don’t keep it on the downlow news of their relationship will travel the island fast, and Luna will never escape questions about it—it makes her think back, so far back, to that night on the roof, when he mentioned how much Inis Mór loves its gossip. She remembers watching him that night, freezing cold on the roof of her unfamiliar flat, wondering what it would be like to truly know Niall. All she’d wanted to do then was reach out and touch his hand, feel his skin against hers—now, she does it nearly every night, without thinking twice.

It’s one of those nights, in early May, when things change forever.

She’s lying all over him in her bed, the way they both like to after sex, his hand tangled up in the curly mess of her hair, her fingers tracing patterns against his bare chest, the smattering of chest hair starting to bloom out across his freckled skin. Luna has the windows open and the smell of spring is delicious through the windows, even this late in the night. As a gentle breeze billows her curtains, Niall slides one hand up Luna’s bare back, from where he’d been resting it at the curve of her ass, coming to a gentle stop between her shoulder blades. She glances up at him, feeling his chest rise as he takes a deep breath, ready to speak.

“Do you remember my mate Conor? From the Paddy’s Day party?”

As if Luna could forget the way Conor’s brother had cornered her in the kitchen. She nods, and Niall exhales quickly.

“Well he works at this pub down in Dublin, helps manage it actually, and he rang me this morning while I was at work to ask if I wanted to come down and do a bit of a gig at the weekend.” His eyes are trained on the ceiling, his chest still as he holds his breath, waiting for Luna’s reaction.

“Niall,” Luna sits up in bed, and, finally, Niall looks at her. She can’t quite figure out why he looks so nervous. “This is fucking amazing.”

Niall breathes out a giggle, hands coming up to cover his eyes for a second. When he moves them and looks at Luna again, they’re sparkling wet. “I know it’s nothing big, just a mate doing a favor but I—my first gig in Dublin, Lunes.”

“It is something big,” Luna doesn’t even try to temper the excitement in her voice—Niall never makes her feel embarrassed about how she reacts to things, not the way Ida, the way her old job, used to. “It’s something massive, actually, Niall. I’m so proud of you.”

Underneath Luna, Niall flushes beautifully, his pale skin warming up with pride, love, a little embarrassment. Luna feels an impossible swell in her chest, a balloon of pride that she can’t keep from flying away, that makes it impossible to act like the chill, unbothered, cool girl she’d tried so hard to be in New York. Instead, she cups Niall’s cheek with her hand, feeling the way his skin burns up under her fingertips, and leans in for a kiss.

And so, Luna takes her very first trip to Dublin.

Niall can’t wrap his head around it, the fact that Luna’s been living on Inis Mór all this time and has never been off the island—not even to Galway, the closest mainland city—and Luna can’t quite figure out how to explain to him that nothing off the island is of interest to her when the island has him. Instead, she tells him it’s all for the best, anyway, that he’ll be the best tour guide or her first foray into the rest of Ireland. He smiles, and wraps his arms around her middle on the ferry over to Galway, his body sheltering her from the violent wind and the bitter cold. Spring is tantalizing in the air, Luna can smell it in her every breath, but winter clings on nonetheless, biting and threatening.

On the train ride from Galway to Dublin, Luna and Niall sit across from each other, Niall’s guitar at pride of place in the seat next to him. Niall takes the seat travelling backwards, so Luna can get a proper view to watch out the window as the Irish countryside blows past her, a blur of impossible green and infinite horizon. He falls asleep somewhere near Mullingar, in the middle of the country, and Luna finds herself watching him more than the passing landscape—the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, the tangle of freckles on his neck, the gentle parting of his lips, the constant, comforting rise and fall of his chest as he dreams.

They arrive in Dublin late that night, the city illuminated by golden street lights and car headlights in a way the island never is, and as they board the Luas on their way to Conor’s flat Luna finds that she’s not taking in the sights around her, but staring instead at the sky above, squinting, strangely desperate to catch a glimpse of any of the stars that make the Inis Mór nights so bright.

All she can see are lights from planes, taking their passengers far away.

—

In the morning, Luna wakes up to the sound of Niall’s laughter. She’s on the air mattress in Conor’s living room, where she and Niall had fallen asleep the night before, and she can tell from the sound of his laugh that Niall’s only in the kitchen, a room away, chatting with Conor. But for some reason, it feels like a million miles.

She stretches out in bed, the air mattress creaking and deflating underneath her, and lets the sounds of the city wake her up, too, so that if she closes her eyes she can pretend this is New York—can feel like she’s back in Williamsburg, Ida next to her, the city bustling below them. As much as she denies it, as much as she loves her life on Inis Mór, Luna can’t shake the fact that there’s a part of her, small it may be, that misses living in a city. But then she hears Niall again, his giggle from the kitchen, and the feeling slips away without a second thought.

Niall is where she wants to be.

She pads into the kitchen, the sleeves of Niall’s sweatshirt pulled down over her fingers, and stills in the doorway for a second, the morning’s first smile working its way across her face as she watches Niall and Conor laugh over some video on Conor’s phone, their heads close together so they can both look at the screen. It hits Luna like a pang in the stomach, the fact that Niall is so far away from his friends all the time—the fact that, by staying where he is, he’s losing out on all of this.

She thinks about herself, too, her early days in New York, before things got so bad. The late nights out with her friends and Ida, crashing at whoever’s apartment was closest to the bar they’d ended the night at, waking up in the afternoon in a pile on the couch, heads throbbing with hangovers and someone, the least hungover usually, standing with her phone out, writing down everyone’s order for the bagel place. Looking at it now, a million miles away, a whole ocean between it all, Luna knows that those moments were the most precious: those exhausted mornings, giggling over Snapchat stories from the night before, splitting bagels so everyone could get at least one bite of every flavor. There was no better feeling than that—nothing more intimate than the morning after the night before.

Standing in the doorway of Conor’s flat, Luna realizes that Niall hasn’t had the chance to have any of those mornings.

He hasn’t let himself.

“Hey, petal. You’re up!”

Luna shakes herself out of her thoughts, eyes focusing on Niall, who’s looking at her with a smile on his face that makes her heart flip the same way it did back in January, when he walked into the cafe for the first time, wind blown and nervous. “We made a fry up, I put yours in the oven to keep it warm.”

“Thank you,” she tells him, her voice coming out a little croaky from lack of use. “That’s nice of you.”

“Wasn’t gonna leave you starving,” Niall smiles, standing up and making his way over to the coffee pot. “Sit down, lover, I’ll get your coffee ready too.”

—

Despite Luna’s dreams of spending the afternoon wandering around the city hand in hand with Niall, she finds that they hardly have any time to sightsee before they find themselves packed into the pub, Niall sitting next to her on a barstool, jiggling his leg up and down anxiously. It feels to Luna like there are more people in this pub alone than on the entire island of Inis Mór. She puts her hand on Niall’s knee, and feels him calm down, just a notch.

She’s only on her second Guinness (and Niall’s barely managed to get halfway through his first), but it’s been a long time since Luna’s been drunk in a bar, and she can feel the effects of it—the alcohol coursing through her in a way it only does when you’re surrounded by other drunk people, the heady smell of the bar adding to her intoxication. She’s overwhelmed, like she knew she would be, but it’s not as bad as she anticipated—not scary and claustrophobic, but fun, something new and different and familiar, all at the same time. She drops her head onto Niall’s shoulder and closes her eyes, safe and sure here, with him by her side.

—

Niall gives, without a doubt, the best performance Luna has ever borne witness to.

He starts playing to a loud, rowdy, packed pub, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of friends chatting to one another, their laughter flitting across the room—but by the time he’s three songs in he’s got the whole place captivated, all eyes on him, smiles on faces and pints raised in the air. By song five people are shouting out requests and Niall’s taking them, slinging a few jokes in between songs, and Luna could swear her heart has never felt so swollen, her stomach never so full with butterflies.

It’s midway through his set, when Niall makes the ground fall out underneath Luna’s feet.

“I wasn’t planning on doing this tonight,” he says into the microphone, “because I wasn’t sure anyone would be interested, but you lot seem like a kind enough audience. I wrote this tune myself, if you don’t mind me playing it? It’s called This Town.”

—

This Town is about Cormac. Luna can tell from the first lyric. It plays in her head on repeat for the rest of the night—through the rest of Niall’s set, through the heart-stopping smile on his face when he sits back down next to her afterward, through the unfathomable hour of strangers coming up to them and offering to buy Niall a pint for his performance, clapping him on the back and letting him know how much they enjoyed listening. It plays on repeat while Luna tells Niall how proud she is of him, leaning in for a kiss and tasting the Guinness on his lips, the lyrics on his tongue. It plays on repeat through the end of the night, too, Niall helping Conor put away some of the glasses after they lock up, Luna feeling like she’s watching herself through someone else’s eyes, spilling beer everywhere when she tries to help.

Niall cleans up her mess without a single complaint, but Luna can’t stop feeling sick to her stomach.

This Town still plays in her mind late that night, when Niall goes down on her in Conor’s living room, the air mattress rocking below them, and it plays in her mind the next morning, when they finally do walk hand in hand through Dublin, Niall stopping for selfies every time they pass a tourist spot. It plays on her mind when they board a train to Galway in the early afternoon, and, still, on the ferry back to Inis Mór late, late that night. Niall drives her home and they make out in the car for ages, his hands up under her sweater, windows open to let the spring air in. It smells like Niall and newness—the coming warmth, the longer days, the hope and life and breath that spring brings to everything.

It smells, to Luna, like everything thawing away.

—

Luna’s grateful for work on Monday, the constant orders and customers a distraction from the feelings that she knows are out of line. Niall adores her, she tells herself as she brings Mr. O’Keefe his usual coffee, a song is just a song, and nothing more.

But it’s hard to shake, Niall’s voice, “over and over, the only truth, everything comes back to you.” For so long, Luna realizes, Niall’s voice has been something special for her—something she hears in her cafe, in her bedroom, in her bathroom when the shower is on. Niall’s voice is the soundtrack to her washing dishes, to her curled up on the sofa reading while he plays guitar across the room. It’s the soundtrack to long car rides in the middle of the night, the moon and stars illuminating the cliffs ahead just for them. It’s the soundtrack to them, to Niall and Luna, and it hurts her more than she thought it would—more than it should—to realize that she has to share that with the rest of the world.

When Niall bustles into the cafe that evening, Luna can’t hide her excitement. It feels like a million years, a million miles, since last night, when he pulled her in for one more kiss before driving home to his mom’s house. His cheeks are redder than usual when he comes up to the counter, despite the warm spring day outside.

“Hiya,” Luna leans over the counter for a kiss, her anxieties melting a little when Niall’s lips meet hers. “You alright?”

“Lu,” Niall’s breathless, handing his phone to Luna across the counter. “Look at this.”

She glances down at his phone, open to the YouTube app, and her hands start to shake before Niall speaks. She knows exactly what’s happening—it used to be her job, to help make things like this happen.

“Someone recorded my gig down in Dublin,” he’s telling her, his voice so distant that it sounds muffled, distorted, in Luna’s ears. “It has a million views on YouTube, Lu. It’s—I’m going viral. People are asking if it’s on Spotify, I even had to take my Instagram page off private. Conor says I should come back down for another gig, people have been asking after me. I—Lu. I think we made it.”

####

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join the taglist here.

#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #without fear #sorry I suck lol #thank you to rand otherwise this would never have happened lol

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nakedmossy · 4 years

Text

Depth Over Distance - Part Ten [Rudy x Reader]

[A/N: I am literally still laughing at the one anon comment about Rudy nutting and it making Anna being pregnant funnier. So here is the part where we learn more about THAT. And have that awesome conversation nobody wants to have and whatnot...but also shower sex, so that’s nice. Stay tuned because in the next part we get some visitors at the cabin...Peace and love, Mossy x]

You had laid on the floor for a few hours, still coming down from the adrenaline high, while Rudy played with the hair that was sprawled around your shoulders and down your back, occasionally looking down at the bandage on your forehead to make sure the cut hadn’t reopened. The fire had crackled peacefully next to you, emanating warmth and comfort, and after the wave of ecstasy had passed, you had felt a small tug in your gut, a reminder of the reality settling in around both of you at a rapid pace. Deep down somewhere you knew that the way forward from here would be complicated and grotesque, that there was no going back from this, but tonight you wanted to enjoy it.

You were sat on the couch now, Rudy’s t-shirt on, your legs stretched across his lap. He watched the fire intently, the glare of the flames licking shadows across his calm features. His blonde hair and tanned skin glowed, his jawline chiseled in perfect sharp angles, his bare chest and rippled abs effortlessly defined. You caught your breath as your eyes glided over him, struggling to reconcile the new, intimate version of him with the innocent friendly version you had known your whole life. Inevitably your mind started to drift back to the overwhelmingly satisfying sex you had just had, and you felt your legs tensing as you remembered the way Rudy’s body had melted into yours, his muscles, the arch of his back and the way his neck tipped back, the orgasm…oh my god, that orgasm.

Rudy looked over at you and caught your eyes, smiling.

“Hi” He said quietly.

“Hey” You smiled back.

“You okay?”

“Mhmmm”

“What’re you thinking about?”

You looked over at the fire and felt your eyes flicker. Everything.

“Nothing” You lied, smiling at him. “Just enjoying this.”

He smiled over at you, his face relaxed. He looked like was going to fall asleep, his eyelids were heavy and his body limp. You gently pulled your legs off of his lap and took your time standing up, Rudy’s hand on the back of your thigh to stabilize you. You moved to the cabinet under the window and pulled out the record player, placing it on counter and dusting it off. You flicked lightly through some of the vinyls and pulled out your dad’s favorite Tom Petty album, slipping it out of its sleeve and placing it gently on the tray, lifting the needle and lowering it gently to the edge of the black.

It crackled and spurred to life as you turned around and smiled at Rudy, sauntering slowly back to him and offering him your hand. His face lit up as he took it, letting you guide him to the open floor space between the couch and the fire. He lifted your hands to his shoulder and placed his other hand on your hip, you began to sway back and forth slowly as the music floated around the cabin, your bodies perfectly in sync as you danced. He slowly pulled you closer to him until your face was resting easily against his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall and the even movement of his breathing lulled you into a transient state, the concept of time loose and unfounded until he spoke and you opened your eyes again.

“Little Fern?” His voice was quiet but it resonated through his chest with a deep hum.

“Mmmm” You acknowledged, waiting. When he didn’t speak, you pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked quietly.

He looked thoughtful, but he didn’t answer. You felt a flutter in your stomach, worried by the length of the silence.

“Rudy?” You waited, slowing the dance until you were both stood, holding each other, unmoving. Finally, his nose wiggled and he let out a breath, then looked at you deeply.

“What if I didn’t go back?”

Confused, your eyebrows knitted together as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I mean, what if I didn’t leave again. Didn’t go back to LA?”

You frowned now, stepping away from him and dropping your hands.

“What are you talking about?”

He lifted his shoulders slightly and looked around the cabin before looking back at you.

“I mean right now, in this moment, after the last couple days….I don’t…I don’t want to. I can’t. I can’t go back now. Not like this. Not without you, I mean…” He struggled for the right words, his face desperate.

You felt a rock settle in your stomach as you watched him clinging at words, the depth of what he was proposing swinging at you like a hard right hook to the chin. He was saying all of this as if there wasn’t a pregnant woman 8 hours away in his house. This was ruining your facade that everything in this moment was perfect.

“You can’t do that” You said quietly after a few seconds of silence. He watched you, confusion now on his own face, as your expression changed to frustration. “We just…” You looked at the blanket on the floor beside you both and motioned to it. “Can I not just enjoy this for a night before we have to face reality? Please.”

He looked at you with a small sad expression before his jaw set and his eyes softened, a smile creeping across his face. He nodded, stretching his hand back out towards you. You took it hesitantly and let him pull you back towards him, swaying to the soft music again.

“Tomorrow then” He said quietly, his mouth pressed next to your ear. You nodded silently and closed your eyes, dreading facing everything tomorrow would bring.

Despite all of that, you had gone to bed, both of you squished into the double bed on the bottom of the bunks, and laid in a peaceful, easy embrace for hours, reminiscing about simpler times and happy memories, laughing and kissing, until you both fell asleep in the early hours of the morning.

You woke up with a sore face and a small headache, smiling, as you heard Rudy banging around in the kitchen while listening to his favorite album on the record player. You wanted to get up and check your forehead bandage in the mirror, knowing it probably had shifted during the night, but as you left the bedroom you were struck by the sight of Rudy holding a frying pan, dancing slowly around the oven, his bare ass exposed and his front hardly covered by a small baking apron. A giggle erupted out of you as you slapped your hand to cover your mouth, Rudy turning around to grin widely at you, still holding the bacon pan.

“Morning, sleepy head” He said in a tired, gravelly voice. He looked like sunshine and sounded like whisky. Your eyes travelled slowly down his chest and abdomen, your breath catching in your throat, and you only briefly stared at the floral apron hanging loosely around his waist before you felt yourself blush, so you turned and kept walking to the bathroom, shaking your head.

The bandage was fine, slightly wrinkled, but your head was starting to hurt worse than any hangover you had ever experienced. You clutched either side of the sink and dropped your head between your shoulders, closing your eyes. You immediately pictured Rudy standing naked in the kitchen and felt your shoulders bounce as you laughed to yourself. You jumped when you felt a hand on your back.

“How’s your head” Rudy asked gently. You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying to smile at him but struggling with how puffy your eyes were.

“Pretty fucking sore” you said with a laugh, sighing. “Where are those T3’s?”

Rudy’s finger shot into the air and he whipped around, his bare ass flashing at you before he turned the corner and went to retrieve them. Arguably he had the nicest butt you had ever seen on a guy so there was nothing wrong with it.

When he returned with two pills and a glass of water, you smiled thankfully at him before taking them and sitting down on the toilet seat. You groaned at the thought of procuring the water for a hot shower, but you wanted one desperately.

Rudy walked forward and stretched his hand out, you took it and he led you into the living room, placing you at the couch before he brought a plate over to you with eggs and bacon on it. You looked down at the plate as confusion overtook you, not understanding where the extra groceries had appeared from.

“Where did this come from…I didn’t bring these?”

He shrugged, his shoulder muscles flexed. “I drove down to the store early this morning and picked them up.”

You looked at the clock hanging on the wall over the door. Just after 9am.

“That’s an hour each way. You drove an hour each way…you got up at 6am…to get ...eggs and bacon?” You blinked at him, disbelief plastered on your face. There was no way. You didn’t hear him leave or come back…you had fallen asleep deeply entangled in his arms. Not a chance.

He nodded, shrugging it off.

“I mean I got other stuff too. And called your parents.” He said the last part quieter, and with trepidation. Your fork fell down to your plate loudly as your eyes shot up at him.

“Pardon me?”

His hands came out reassuringly and he wandered back into the kitchen to grab his own plate.

“I just called them to say that you had ditched your car swerving a deer, but that we got your head looked at and we were both up here safe and we would be home in a few days. All good.”

“A few days? I’ve already been here a few days. I have to work in a few days, Rudy.”

“Relax. I took care of it.”

You pinched your face and looked around.

“What are you my fairy godfather? What makes you think I’ll agree to stay up here with you anyways.”

Rudy scoffed and smiled at his plate, scooping up a fork full of food and shoving it in.

“Because” He said through his mouthful of eggs and bacon. “I have the keys to the only working vehicle. You can’t leave until I do. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He winked at you before returning to his food. You rolled your eyes and went back to your own plate, but were smiling. You were both avoiding the upsetting truth that waited for you back home...but you didn’t mind putting it off for a while longer. Besides, the last thing you wanted was to confront Rudy’s pregnant manager who he was having a secret affair with while you had a concussion. You needed a few days.

“I need to shower.” You said when you finished your food, not even registering how hungry you had been until that point. Rudy nodded and collected your plates, placing them on the counter. He had already filled the pots with water and was walking them over to the fire to boil.

“Working on it” He said, stabilizing them so they didn’t spill on the floor, and carefully lifting each one on the tray over the flames. His arms were just absolutely stupidly strong. You couldn’t stop staring.

When the water was boiled he carried the pots and emptied them into the tank inside the shower, sealing the lid to retain the heat. He came back into the living room to help you up off the couch, you wobbled as your head spun.

“Easy” He said, bracing your arms. Annoyed at your head but smiling, you said a quiet ‘thanks’ as you pushed past him into the bathroom. You were about to close the door when you looked back out into the living room and saw Rudy standing silently and watching you, his eyes lustfully stuck on you.

You felt your stomach flutter and the blood rush to your face, making your head pound even more. You held his eyes and waited, then bit your bottom lip as you began to pull his shirt over your head.

Again, you stood naked, watching him, waiting for him.

Again, without hesitation, he came for you.

He pulled the apron off his waist in the doorway and you bit back a giggle as he discarded it on the floor next to his shirt that you had dropped. Now you both stood in front of each other, waiting, and neither making the first move. Your eyes travelled up and down him, seeing all the things it was hard to see through the darkness and the haze of last night. He was perfectly sculpted, his muscles were taught and toned from neck to ankle, the V of his hip muscles that travelled down to his pelvis made you feel like you were going to pass out. There were no flaws, there was nothing you would change. You felt lightheaded again.

Slowly Rudy came closer until he was directly in front of you, reaching his hand up to your face, holding your chin in place as he leaned down to kiss you. You kissed him back, eagerly, and felt him walk you backwards slowly into the tiled area, his hand moving to turn on the faucet. It was shocking, the sensation of the water, and you recoiled into Rudy, laughing as your bodies began to glean the water. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face, and clearing his eyes before smiling down at you.

As he grabbed the shampoo bottle from the shelf behind you and began to massage the liquid into your hair, careful not to let it get in your eyes, your hands travelled around his abdomen. You felt more grounded, more in tune, than you had last night. You also felt hungrier. You knew exactly what you were working with now. You closed your eyes and tipped your head back, letting the water rinse the soap from your hair, tickled by the sensation of the clumps of white foam travelling down your body.

You felt Rudy step closer to you, you could feel him against your leg, his hands moving to your shoulders, rubbing the soap suds down your chest, fondling you. You felt yourself slipping into the cloud of ecstasy, your eyes stayed closed as Rudy’s mouth worked around your neck and jawline. You didn’t have to think about what to do next, your hand slipped down his abdomen and below his waist line, you grabbed as much of him as you could fit in your hand and began to stroke back and forth. You felt Rudy crippling around you, his arm bracing you both firmly against the wall of the shower as his head dipped and he began to groan deeply. This was too easy. You opened your eyes and watched him, his face pinching tighter and tighter as he firmed and grew in your hand, and only moments later he was twitching and pulsing, his body pressing yours into the shower wall as he weakened in front of you, his head falling and resting on your shoulder.

After mere seconds he had regained himself and lifted his head to reveal a dazed but sinister smile, before lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

“What are you….oh” Your breath caught in your throat as his face disappeared between your legs. The water ran down your face as you tilted your head, your back pressed firmly to the shower wall, his tongue wreaking havoc on your ability to keep yourself upright. This wouldn’t take long.

After you were out of the shower and both sufficiently clean and satisfied, you walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel, pouring a cup of coffee. Rudy followed you and perched himself against the counter, sipping from his cup slowly.

You looked out the window, it was a beautiful morning, no grey clouds or rain, just a light blue sky and sunlight beaming down. Even the birds were singing. It was nice while it lasted.

“Was it like this? With her?” You asked briefly before bringing your cup to your mouth and sipping it loudly. You heard Rudy choke and spit some of his back into his cup, then felt his eyes on you.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded.

You turned around and stared at him, waiting, rolling your foot around in circles on the floor, stretching the muscles. You knew there was never going to be a good time to have this conversation, but you felt like the sooner the better. Besides, he had just eaten you out on the floor of a cold cabin shower. For some reason that gave you a confidence boost.

“Anna” You said her name, trying to keep the bitterness out of your tone. “Was it like this?”

You knew he understood your meaning. Was it like us? Was it easy like this? Was the sex this good?

Rudy stood perfectly still, his coffee cup trembling for a moment, before he placed it on the counter and ran a hand over his mouth.

“Um…” He started, his eyes wide. “Hmm.” He stared at the floor for a moment before starting again.

“Okay. I guess now is fine.” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. You knew you had shocked him, but it felt good to return the favor. “No. Simple answer. It was not like this.”

You nodded slowly, watching him, your head starting to pulse lightly again. He moved to the table and sat down clumsily, you followed.

“Not even close.” He said honestly, his eyes meeting yours again. “She…we had a fling. Briefly. A few months ago…and then…I don’t know. It got weird. It became something…ugly and possessive. I just, I had needed a distraction and it worked for a while but when I told her to cool it off and that I needed space, she didn’t listen.”

He looked out the window now, his jaw flexing, his face pained.

“Well I mean….maybe it had something to do with the fact she is carrying your child.” You said, forcing the words out reluctantly, bitterness seeping into your voice.

Rudy’s eyes flashed back to yours and his expression changed, something flickering across his face. He leaned forward, putting his arms on the table.

“Y/N…it’s… it’s not mine.” He said gently, breathing evenly.

You felt your heart jump and your chest start to ache. You stared at him, expecting him to take it back or say he was kidding, but he didn’t.

“Pardon me?” You forced the words out, your body numb.

Rudy swallowed hard and looked at his lap, smiling and letting a short laugh out before shaking his head and setting his jaw, his hands balled into a fist on the table.

When he looked back up at your inexplicably shocked face, his expression was firm and apologetic.

“I wasn’t sure…at first. But by the time I figured it out, you were gone. I tried calling you but your phone was out of service so it wouldn’t go through. I was already coming to find you when I got your voicemail, but then…I guess it kind of slipped my mind when I found your car…and I wanted to make sure you were okay before…I feel so fucking guilty about the whole thing.”

You felt yourself sinking into your seat, your mind reeling with the words he had just said.

“How do you know?” You spoke barely above a whisper.

“I know, trust me.” You scoffed at the choice of word considering you were both in this situation because he had lied in the first place. Trust.

“I know because…it’s not possible. I mean, we slept together once a few months ago but…we were drunk…and….i’m telling you it’s just not possible.” He was tripping over his words, forcing his explanation towards you. You looked up and met his eyes, unable to take his words at face value. You felt confined, like you needed distance from him, so you stood up and took a step back from the table, clutching your towel tight to your chest.

“So you slept together, drunk, but it’s not possible that she’s pregnant with your kid? No, sorry Rudy. I mean, I know we skipped a lot of Grade 9 Biology classes but, if you go around nutting in girls like you did last night, which by the way we’re going to have a SERIOUS discussion about later…it IS possible.” You were talking a million miles a minute and stumbling over your words, your face flushed.

Rudy stood up with his arms out in front of him, ushering you to slow down, saying your name repeatedly until you stopped talking.

“I didn’t finish.” He said firmly, staring at you Oh.

“What? I mean…” You took another step back, bringing your hand to your forehead. “…are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. I know what an orgasm feels like.” His eyes drifted over to the blanket in front of the fireplace.

“But…I mean you said you were drunk …how can you be sure.”

“Because I was thinking about you the whole time!” He practically shouted, trying to smile through his agitation. You closed your mouth as your eyebrows rose. He continued, frustrated. “I tried, I wanted to, it was painful not to, but…I couldn’t finish. I mean I could barely get it up with her let alone…. I had to go the bathroom to…you know...whack one out. It was brutal.”

You felt yourself breathing in but had to force yourself to breathe out. This was…a lot of information to process at 10am wearing nothing but a towel. Your eyes worked around the room, trying to focus on any one thing but unable to. Your mind started to reel. There was so much going on.

“So why is she here then?” You begged, starting to see bright spots around your peripherals.

“Because…” Rudy’s hands flew up and he sighed, defeated. “I fired her a few days before I got here, and…I don’t know…I guess this was her last ditch effort to try and get me back.”

Rudy watched you, concern clear on his face, waiting for you to calm down.

“You…you could have led with that.” You said sternly, not looking at him.

Rudy cocked an eyebrow, staring at the spot on your towel covering your very naked lady parts, and broke a small smile at you.

“I mean to be fair, we were a bit preoccupied.”

You cursed at him and spun around, throwing your hand in the air.

“That’s not fucking funny, Rudy.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes, more out of anger and the pain in your head than anything else. You wanted to feel relieved, you wanted to feel the weight lift from your chest, but you couldn’t yet.

You needed air.

You walked to the door and flung it open, stomping out onto the deck and pacing in small lines up and down the railing before leaning against it and closing your eyes. You were so dizzy.

“Seriously?” You said quietly to yourself, your mind spiraling around the thought of how just 3 days ago you had come to your absolute breaking point before realizing you needed distance from Rudy, to save yourself. That had ended in you feeling guilty about abandoning your best friend, driving inebriated from lack of food and sleep, and crashing your car in an attempt to just talk to him. You had gone through the biggest mental roller coaster of your life, and were still prepared to stand by him through this Anna bullshit, no matter how hard it was, and now he was telling you it wasn’t even his kid? Fuck that.

You heard the screen door open and felt Rudy’s presence, but he stayed at arm’s length.

“Y/N I’m sorry.” He said, his voice pleading. “I’m so sorry.”

You spun around and stared at him, your head absolutely thrashing with pain now.

“She was pretty fucking obviously pregnant, Rudy. You didn’t see that two weeks ago when you left?” You glared at him, unable to control yourself and maintain consciousness at the same time.

Rudy was breathing erratically, watching you like you were going to fall down at any moment. You might, who knows. This was a lot to think about.

“I hadn’t seen her in two months” He said calmly, his eyes firm on yours.

You sniffed, and squeezed your eyes closed, your vision starting to blur. You breathed slowly and stabilized yourself with the banister, making a deterring hissing noise at Rudy when he started towards you.

“Please come sit down.” He said softly.

“I’m fine” You said in an annoyed voice, still holding the bandage firm to your forehead. Your hand felt sticky so you pulled it away and saw blood spotted on your palm. “Shit”

“Okay no” Rudy said firmly then, walking towards you and bringing his hands up to the bandage. You swatted them away, smacking his skin and taking a step back.

“I can do it myself.” You said, pushing around him and starting to walk back towards the front door of the cabin. The sudden exertion of energy and movement had made black appear around the edges of your vision, and before you could stop yourself you were falling sideways, your brain spinning and your eyes pinching shut. You heard Rudy say your name and you felt his arms around you before you hit the ground.

_____________________________________

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#depth over distance #nakedmossywrites #rudy pankow #Outer Banks #obx fanfiction #alaska #rudy x reader #jj maybank

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Warnings: Cursing, drinking, injuries, fighting…all the good stuff. Word Count: 2.9k Requested: @nadderlover1 A/N: I feel like I’m really bad at writing jealousy…but here ya go anyways! Also it’s kinda long, sorry not sorry

“I still don’t understand why you are getting a roommate. Or why it’s not one of your fabulous brothers.” Jason chided his older brother.

“Cop salary? And I spend enough time with you guys.”

“Please, we all know you could just ask daddy –”

“No.” Dick quickly cut his brother off. “It’ll be fine. I did a background check on her and everything.”

“Her?! Oh Dickieboy, you didn’t tell me it was girl.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Of course! What if you fall madly in love with her? What if I do?”

“You will not be going near her, so that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh you take the fun out of everything.” Jason whimpered.

“You poor child. Now get out before she gets here.” Dick started pushing his brother out of the apartment.

“If she’s hot I call dibs!” Jason called over his shoulder as he resisted the force on his shoulders, before finally giving in and scrambling out the door.

Another hour passed before Dick heard rapping at his door. He swung open the door and saw you standing, suitcase in hand.

“Y/N, uh welcome…” Dick gestured you inside.

“Thanks. I uhm, have a few more things in my car…” You mumbled as you set the suitcase just inside the door. As you turned to head back downstairs, you noticed Dick step out of the front door. You looked back, slightly shocked, “So have long have you been in Bludhaven?”

“Traveled a bit when I was younger, then was in Gotham until a few years ago.”

“Gotham? I didn’t realize sane people actually lived in the city. My parents thought I was crazy enough for coming to Bludhaven.”

“Well, I lived just outside the city, technically.”

“So you ever see the clown? Or maybe that scarecrow guy?”

Dick held back his laughter, “Oh yeah. I’ve seen them all.”

“Wait seriously?” You stopped short and turned towards him, eyes wide. “And you’re still alive?”

“Luck of the draw I suppose.”

“Geez, someone is looking out for you.”

“Heh, yeah. Usually there’s a few.”

Over the next few months the two of you grew closer, roommates to friends. Movie nights and dinner dates weren’t out of the ordinary.

“Wait, so you’re father is Bruce Wayne.” You fell back into the couch with laughter.

“Well, adopted father. But yeah.”

“And you decided to be a cop.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh come on!” You slapped his shoulder, “Trust fund baby is such a better occupation!”

“Hey!” Dick’s hand flew up to his chest, pretending to be offended by your commentary. “Besides, if I was, then you wouldn’t have met me.” He elbowed you as a smile grew on his lips.

“Oh,” your voice exaggerated and raspy, “and how would I have lived without knowledge of THE DICK GRAYSON.”

Dick folded his arms, ignoring the obvious sarcasm dripping from your words. “Exactly.” He huffed out just as a notification came across his phone. He glanced at it and you noticed his expression sour. “I’m sorry,” Dick looked up at you, “I know it’s movie night but I have to go.”

“Oh yeah, it’s fine…” You tried to brush off the obvious hurt in your voice. His phone rang again, you glanced at the screen seeing the name “Barbara” flash. “Uhm, well don’t get shot. I do hate apartment hunting.”

“I’ll try my hardest.” Dick smirked as he hurried out the door.

You sighed as you pressed play on the movie. I wonder who that is…her name pops up on his phone an awful lot. Are they dating? You tried to shake the thoughts from your mind, who cares if they are dating. He’s your roommate. Your friend and your roommate. You repeated the last line like a mantra until your mind became invested in the movie in front of you.

Another few months went by and it seemed you couldn’t have asked for a better roommate. You had become friends with his brothers and Dick…Dick had become your best friend. Even though he was obviously keeping a secret from you.

“So pizza tonight?” You called out as you threw open the front door. Today had been awful and you just wanted a relaxing night with Dick at your side.

“Oh Y/N/N, I was actually just leaving.” Dick’s phone buzzed. You tensed as you saw “Barbara” flash across the screen. “I uhm, have a family thing. Don’t wait up.”

Your jealousy got the better of you and you pulled out your phone, dialing Jason.

“Well, if it isn’t my brother’s beautiful roommate. Finally realize I’m the hotter one?”

“Ha ha Jay. We’re just roommates.”

“Yeah okay, and my name’s actually Sam.”

You let out a loud sigh, “I need a drink and your brother just left.”

“Ooh is this like the ‘I’m home alone’ text?”

“No, this is like the I don’t want to drink alone, so I’m asking an annoying friend to come over.”

“Alright alright, I’ll leave in 10.”

You had already emptied half a bottle of wine when Jason arrived. A smile graced your face as you swung open the front door and lunged at Jason.

“Jay, you’re here!” you cried out as you enveloped him in a hug.

“And I see I need to catch up.” Jason smirked as he lifted you slightly off the ground and carried you inside.

“I’m fine, really. Just…” You let go of him and picked up your fresh glass of wine. “Just a bad day.”

“Hm, been there.” Jason poured himself a glass of whiskey and joined you on the couch. “What happened?”

“I just don’t understand why people are intentionally bitchy. Like for no reason. It makes everyone around them miserable. And it makes them miserable. So why do it?”

“They just want everyone to be as miserable as them.”

“But they make it worse that way! If you surround yourself with happy people you are more likely to be happy. So if your sole purpose is to make everyone miserable, then you’re solidifying your own miserable life.”

“Maybe they think they deserve to be miserable.” Jason solemnly looked down at his glass.

“I hope, Jason Peter Todd, you are not talking about yourself. Don’t make me fight you.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m working on it. You sure that’s the only thing bothering you.”

Your eyes darted around, avoiding contact with Jason’s. “Of course. What else would it be?”

“Something to do with my brother perhaps?”

“Wha –” your eyes narrowed as you grabbed the bottle of wine beside you, emptying the rest into your glass. You proceeded to take a long drink in order to avoid further questioning.

“We both know I can out drink you. So we can do this the easy way. Or the way that gives you a hangover in the morning.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You looked up at him as a smirk formed on his lips. He knew he had won. “I just know he’s keeping something from me. But what am I supposed to say? Plus, I’m just –”

“Don’t even finish that sentence Y/N Y/M/N. You are way more to him than just a roommate. Everyone can see that, even if you two can’t.”

Another bottle of wine later and Dick opened the front door, garnished with a new black eye. “Jason…?” He questioned as he saw the two of you sitting on the couch.

“And that’s my queue to leave.” Jason got up and whispered to his brother as he passed, “You should really just tell her. Though I’d do it in the morning, she’s two bottles in.”

Dick’s face grimaced with confusion as he walked over to you, slumped over on the couch.

“Richard John Grayson. Is that a black eye?” Your words were slurred and drawn out.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the important thing here. Why are you hammered?”

“I’m fine.” You attempted to stand, thankfully Dick was there to catch you before you hit the ground. You pushed out of his arms, “Really. I’m fine.” You blinked intently at the ground, trying to get rid of the blurriness. You took one deliberate step after the other, determined to make it to your bedroom. Dick followed at your side, arms ready to catch you.

“Y/N, will you just –”

“No! You can go on with your secrets I’ll be going to sleep now.”

“I –” Dick was left dumbfounded standing at your bedroom door, until a crashing sound shook him. He looked over to see you on the floor, blood beginning to seep from your head. “Shit.” He ran over to you, “Y/N. Y/N, I need you to look at me.” You pushed his hands away.

“I’m fine!”

“You’re bleeding. And I don’t give a shit if you’re mad at me right now. I’m going to help you get to bed and then you can hate me later.”

You let out a stubborn huff, but quickly realized you did not have the energy or the sobriety to argue with him. Dick picked you up, bringing you into his own bathroom and set you on the counter. He opened a cabinet full of way too many medical supplies for the average person and pulled out some bandages and glue.

“This is probably going to hurt, but it’s pretty deep. I’m going to have to glue it.”

“You can’t glue my face!”

Dick couldn’t help himself, as he let out a laugh. “Y/N/N, I promise it’s safe. I’ve used it a million times.” Your lower lip puffed out as you stared into his impossibly blue eyes. Your little pout broke his heart, “You’ll still be as breathtaking as ever.” His hand cradled your face in an attempt to console you. Once you were patched up, he brought you over to his bed. “Now my drunken little Y/N, I’m going to bring you some water. Wait here.”

You kind of followed his instructions, only you fell backwards and promptly fell asleep. Dick walked back in, carrying the biggest water bottle he could find. He stopped in the doorway when he saw you already asleep. Dick contemplated if he should carry you to your own room or leave you in his. He, somewhat selfishly, chose the latter. He tucked you under the blankets and got ready for bed, crawling in next to you.

Dick woke several hours later, with you on his chest. He dared not move, after logging this into his memory, he attempted to fall back asleep. You began to stir a few moments later, forcing your eyes open you glanced around in confusion. Your mind raced as you felt someone’s chest beneath your head. Slowly, you rose, letting out a sigh of relief once you noticed it was Dick. Quietly you tip-toed to your own room, grabbing the bottle of water and aleve Dick left for you on the dresser. You crawled into your own bed and fell back asleep, tomorrow was going to be hell.

Unshockingly, the two of you completely ignored the past nights events and fell back into routine.

You were looking forward to movie night, Dick had missed the last three and you really needed some best friend time. As soon as Dick walked through the door you rushed to his side.

“So, decided on a movie?” You looped your arm into his.

“Actu –” His response was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

You threw your hands up in the air. “Of course you can’t. You haven’t been here all month, why start now.”

“Y/N/N…” He glanced down at his phone, Barbara was calling again. He sighed before continuing, “I have to go.”

“Girlfriend calling again, I get it. Have fun.” You turned to leave, as Dick grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards him.

“That’s not – I’ll explain everything when I get back. I promise.” You were left speechless and confused as he walked out of the front door. The slam of the front door shook you free from the trance. You walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine. Before you could open you heard a knock on the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you went to open it.

“Forget your –” you stopped once you realized it was not Dick, and the two men were both armed. You attempted to slam the door, but the first man shoved in. Slamming the unopened bottle of wine against his head, it shattered as he fell to the floor.

“You bitch!” The second man screamed as he grabbed you, wrapping his hands around your neck. You repeatedly punched him in the side, but to no avail and soon everything went black. When you woke, you were gagged and tied to a chair. Thankfully, you recognized the surroundings, they hadn’t moved you from the apartment.

“Oh the birdie is awake. Don’t worry, we just want your little Detective friend.”

You looked around and noticed the first man was awake, holding a bag of frozen vegetables to his head.

“Yeah, so when the fuck is he coming back? If it ain’t soon, I may need to start paying you back for this.” The man pointed to his injured head, which was still bleeding. “Can’t we just call him from the bitch’s phone?” He pleaded to his partner.

“No. He can’t know something is wrong. The boss wants him alive. Teach him a lesson about poking around where he shouldn’t.”

You made the mistake of rolling your eyes at the comment. The action was quickly met with a swift punch to the jaw. Honestly, you had no idea how long you were sequestered to the chair. All you know is the two idiots couldn’t stop arguing about what to do. Finally, you heard footsteps in the hall. They stopped at your front door, but it seemed as if they would never open it. At last you heard the key in the lock just before light from the hall began to flood the room.

“Y/N?” Dick’s voice sounded worried. Did he know something was wrong?

You attempted to scream, but the sound was muffled by the fabric in your mouth. Somehow, it was enough. Dick rushed to your side, but you shook your head furiously in an attempt to warn him. He didn’t seem to need it. Your eyes went wide as a man came up behind him. Dick sunk to the floor, sweeping the assailant’s feet from under him. The next man came out of the shadows and charged at him with a knife. Dick swept his body to the side as he jabbed underneath the man’s shoulder, forcing the knife to crash to the ground. The man clutched his arm, as you watched Dick’s fist collide with the man’s jaw.

Dick walked over to you, pulling the gag from your mouth just in time for you to scream out, “Behind you!” Once again, it seemed as if he didn’t even need your warning. Dick’s arm came up just in time to block the attempted blow to his face. He stretched the arm out and slammed it against the man’s neck. Before you could blink Dick’s foot collided with the man’s chest, sending him flying into the wall. You watched as the man sunk to the ground.

“So obviously I’m –” Dick’s eyes darted towards the man attempting to sneak out. “Well you’re not going anywhere.” He raced over, grabbing the man’s forearm, Dick swung him into the wall. Dick flipped on the light and his eyes went wide as he saw the bruises forming on your neck and jaw. He raced up to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “What did they do to you?” His hands cradled your face.

“I’m okay Dick. Really, just…”

“What?” His expression filled with fear as his eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I’m still tied to a chair.”

Dick’s hand went up to cover his face, stifling a laugh. He withdrew a knife from his pocket and cut your hands and feet loose. Before you could move from the chair, he was kneeling in front you again. “You’re okay though?” He asked worriedly, as his hand lightly grazed your bruised jaw.

“I’m okay.”

Dick let out a sigh of relief as he hung his head. “Alright, I’m going to call the station.” When Dick got off the phone he walked over and sat next to you on the couch. “They are going to come take pictures, get your statement…I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“Dick, it’s not your fault. You were doing your job.”

“I was…I was only looking into them for my other job though. I should’ve known better.”

“Your other job?”

“This is, uhm, this is what I wanted to explain. I’m Nightwing. And and I get so many calls from Barbara, she’s like uh the woman in the chair? Behind the scenes…gathering intel.” He looked over at you, eyes hopeful for your approval. He was not expecting you to burst out in laughter. Which is exactly what you did. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry Dick. I just…it makes so much sense!” You took in a deep breath to compose yourself.

“You aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Of course not.”

“Good. Because there’s something else I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What’s a bigger secret than –” Your words were cut off by his lips moving against yours. He pulled back, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.

“I love you.”

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sevenstarsinning · 4 years

Text

Summary: Raditz loses his mate when Planet Vegeta is destroyed and finds himself working alongside Prince Vegeta. When he comes to Earth to recruit his brother, he’s dealt another devastating blow when Goku refuses to join and leaves him near death. He’s found by a human and attempts to adapt to life on Earth.

Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 2

The smell of wet grass and dirt filled your nostrils when you awoke. Before you opened your eyes, you knew the sun was beaming overhead. Judging by the layer of sweat on your forehead, it was going to be a hot one.

Your clothes stuck uncomfortably to your body as you turned over to your back, groaning the whole way. Along with the nausea, your entire body ached from sleeping on the hard ground all night.

"Human, who are you and why did you sleep on me last night?" A large silhouette stepped up next to you, nearly blocking out the sun entirely.

"Thought you were just a vivid dream." As the events of the previous night flooded your brain, you realized how many unanswered questions there were regarding the handsome stranger.

"Wait... how are you standing? You were pretty much dying a few hours ago."

He bent down and grabbed your wrist, bringing you to your feet without much finesse.

"Hangover!" You shouted when you came face to face with his wide chest. A cold sweat broke out all over and before you could so much as turn your head away, you vomited all over the front of him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, human? That smells horrible," he growled, stepping back to get away from the odor but, of course, it followed him. He tugged at his armor and tried to wrestle it over his head but his face went pale before he could get it off.

"Spicy," you panted while you pulled your shirt over your head to wipe your mouth, "bar food, man... it's good going down but it fucking sucks coming back up."

He bent over and dry heaved a couple of times before his stomach emptied what little still remained. He groaned and clutched his ribs before pulling his cracked armor off the rest of the way. One side of it was almost completely gone and the rest was barely hanging together.

The two of you fell silent when you stopped and finally got a good look at one another. The only thing that covered him looked like some kind of spandex wrestling attire that left little to the imagination.

You stood a few yards away in a black bikini top from your visit to the community pool next to the bar the day before and your favorite pair of jeans, perfectly worn in and comfortable.

"As far as morning after looks go, this is not my finest. Self medicating hangover is not a good look on me," you said, breaking the intense silence between you.

"Who are you?" He asked again, completely unamused.

"Dude, you were dying in the field right next to my house dressed like you just left an anime convention. You tell me who you are first."

"I don't take orders from weak little humans," he snarled, offended you would even attempt to tell him what to do.

"I don't see any weak little humans," you shot back, unfazed by the difference in size between you. He had to be well over a foot taller and built like a tank.

He took in a sharp breath to come back with another insult but all that came out was a groan as he clutched his ribs and dropped to his knees.

You approached with caution as he tried to catch his breath. Each time he inhaled, the pain seemed to intensify. Even on his knees he was close to being at eye level with you.

"Do you need a doctor or... " you trailed off, unsure how to help him.

It was clear he wasn't from Earth which wasn't all that surprising or disconcerting living on the outskirts of West City. It seemed to be a hotspot for strange activity and visitors from the cosmos.

"No doctors," he growled.

"So, what, I'm supposed to just leave you here to die slowly? Not my style, big guy. Come on, my house is right over there." You took a step forward and offered your hand.

He tilted his head up to meet your gaze. The friendly smile you displayed took him by surprise. He expected some amount of fear from his less than welcoming first impression, but there wasn't any.

"I don't need help from a human," he grumbled as he began to stand.

"That's too bad, you're getting it anyway." You grabbed his arm to help him stay balanced and hoisted it over your shoulder. The second he let the full weight of his massive arm rest on you, it felt like you were sinking into the ground.

"Jesus fuck... how are you so goddamn big?"

"How are you so tiny?" He grunted, shifting to take a little weight off of you. All you could do was help keep him steady, anything beyond that was out of the question.

"I haven't been home in a couple of days so the house is probably a mess," you said, ignoring his question.

The small patch of woods near your house offered a short reprieve from the sun's intensity. You had never been more thankful for the end of summer. The sweltering hot days were miserable and difficult to enjoy because it was too uncomfortable to do much of anything.

You came to an abrupt stop when your house came into view. The front half looked fine, not a brick out of place. The back half had been reduced to crumbling walls and bits of rubble.

When your eyes settled on the pod sitting in what used to be your bedroom, you slowly turned your gaze to the stranger at your side.

"What's your name?" You asked, calm on the surface but inside your blood was boiling.

"Raditz, why?" He answered with a little more attitude than you could let slide.

"I'm assuming that's yours, Raditz?" You pointed to the small round ship surrounded by chunks of your walls and roof. Imagining him folding his massive body into the pod would’ve made you laugh if not for the anger over your house.

"Yes."

"And where you're from, I'm assuming you're well versed in galactic travel?"

"Yes, human. What are you getting at?" He sighed and clutched his ribs, not at all bothered by the fact that his pod decimated your house.

"This area is like 90% cow pasture, how the actual fuck did you crash land on my house?!" You shouted, loud enough for your voice to echo.

"How dare you raise your voice-"

"Oh fuck no, you're not pulling that high and mighty bullshit with me," you interrupted, hands shaking from the overwhelming anger.

"Do you have a death wish? I've killed beings bigger and far scarier than you for much less," he shouted back despite the pain he knew it would cause.

"You destroyed my house, you gigantic asshole!" You stared up at him, not the least bit intimidated.

"I'm warning you, human, your life means nothing to me and I won't hesitate to end it," he growled back.

"Is that supposed to scare me? Dude, this is Earth, like half of us wish for death every fucking day!"

Raditz opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out while he processed what you said.

Your chest heaved with a long, drawn out sigh. Without another word, you headed towards what was left of the house. The inside was a complete wreck even in the front half of the house. The impact of the pod hitting the back half of the house shifted everything and left the floor covered with valuables from your shelves and TV stand. The only thing left unscathed was the furniture.

Glass from broken picture frames crunched under your shoes as you navigated the living room to grab the first aid kit from the small closet across from the bathroom.

"Sit." You pointed to the couch when Raditz appeared in the doorway.

He hesitated for a moment, looking around at the chaos his ship caused. After crossing the threshold, he moved gingerly towards the couch and sat down next to you.

With the first aid kit laid out on the coffee table, you shuffled through to find disinfectant wipes, bandages, and whatever else you might need to get him patched up.

He slowly pulled his ripped up black spandex top over his head and sat back on the couch, shifting to find the most comfortable position. His whole left side was one massive bruise with cuts and dried blood smeared across it. The cuts on the rest of his body had long since stopped bleeding but still needed to be cleaned.

"I'm guessing you have a broken rib or two?" You finally turned to look at him. The anger and annoyance that marred his chiseled features just minutes before was replaced with curiosity.

He nodded and moved his arm out of the way to give you access to his battered side.

"How do you take care of broken bones where you're from?" You pulled a disinfectant wipe from a small foil packet and unfolded it.

"Medical machines," he answered. Right when you pressed the wipe to the cuts on his abs, he hissed.

"Keep talking, what's a medical machine on your planet?" You continued, hoping to keep him distracted from the discomfort.

"A pod... " he winced and took a deep breath, "full of a healing liquid... it can heal us from any wound as long as we're still breathing."

You placed a bandage over one of the deeper cuts and moved onto the next. "I wish we had something like that here. How long does it take?"

"Dammit, woman," he grunted when you added a little pressure to his ribs to clean another long gash.

"Depends on the wound," he said through gritted teeth, "minutes up to a few hours."

"And I'm guessing you don't have one in the pod that destroyed my house?" You raised an eyebrow and glanced at him.

"Obviously not. What do you have on this pathetic planet that can heal me quickly? I have more important things to do than sit here and answer your questions," he bit back.

You pressed against his ribs out of spite and got an anguished groan out of him. Before you could return to cleaning the last of his cuts, he grabbed your arm to stop you.

"I could snap your wrist with one hand."

"Yeah? If you really wanted to, you would've just done it," you challenged. It was a gamble to keep pushing back but you ran out of fucks to give long ago.

A few seconds of silence passed between you and he finally released his grip.

His curiosity returned when you focused on patching him up as if he didn't just threaten bodily harm. The way you were able to be simultaneously angry and caring towards him wasn't something he expected from a human.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't want a rotting corpse in the field next to my house," you answered without a second thought, "you're also not leaving until you fix the chaos your pod caused."

"I owe you nothing, human-"

"You're also kinda cute but that's not going to last long if you keep being a dick," you continued, turning your attention to his arm.

He jerked it away and growled when a sharp pain shot through his body.

"Feel like a big man now?" You chided before pulling his arm back into your lap.

"How do you expect me to fix this? I'm a warrior, not a builder."

You raised an eyebrow and said the first thing that came to mind. In retrospect, it was probably the worst thing you could've said but you were incapable of keeping your mouth shut.

"Maybe you'll be a better builder since you clearly suck at the whole warrior thing."

A tingle went down your spine when he turned his murderous glare to you. It wasn't the dying part that filled you with fear, it was the infinite number of ways he could go about it that made your life flash before your eyes.

#raditz x reader #raditz x female reader #raditz #dbz #dbz fic #let you go fic #supremeleadershitlord #7ss raditz

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

Paper Rings

So yes, it is 2 am and here I am just finishing this, but oh well (ignore typos, I’ll probably reread it in the morning and catch them all. Or point them out, I’m fine with that). But keep supporting the Black Lives Matter movement! If you want or need any resources I’m totally happy to help you find them! OR you have any that you wanna share, please do!

Shout out to @bandgirlsclub for helping me with the Instagram part, she’s the greatest and you should read all her stuff!!

This was requested and inspired by Paper Rings by Taylor Swift. I hope you like it!

____________________

March

“We’ve been here for twenty minutes and they’re already stoned out of their minds?” you say to your friend, your voice high like it does when you can’t believe the world around you. You weren’t one to smoke, and normally you didn’t care if people did, but when you didn’t know anyone around you besides your friend from work, you started to worry.

“We were late, and they live here. It’s no big deal. Like you always say, you don’t care if people do it as long as they’re safe and they don’t make you do it if you say no,” she says, going to join them. You stood off in the corner, just watching the scene unfold; you hated being the only sober one at a party, but it looks like that was going to happen tonight.

“So you’re not one to smoke, either?” someone says, startling you.

“Oh, my god. Uh, no, clearly I’m paranoid enough as it is.”

You both start laughing, him handing you the drink that was in his hand. You look down at the clear liquid, not sure what it is. You look back up at him, eyebrow raised, lifting the cup to your nose to see if it smelled like vodka.

“It’s just water. Something tells me you need to stay sober tonight, too.” He gestures over to your friend, whos already giggling like nobody’s business. Apparently, you were either going to be staying over at whoever’s place this was, or you were going to have to get her home.

“Are you the babysitter tonight?” you ask.

He nods his head, his curls bouncing as he does, “That and I have to be up early tomorrow and something tells me that a hangover and traveling across the country isn’t the best combination.”

“You get to travel for work? I would love a job like that.”

“Uh, yeah. What do you do?”

You roll your eyes, exhaling. “I’m an HR rep for an insurance company. It’s so exciting,” you say with the most sarcastic tone. You didn’t hate your job, but you would give anything to do something else if the money wasn’t so good. “What do you do?”

“I play for the Avalanche.”

You nearly spit out the water right in his face, “Like the hockey team?”

“Do you know of another Avalanche I could play for?”

“Touche.”

You spend the rest of the night talking to Tyson, as he said his name was, while everyone around you just kept smoking whatever they had. You ended up on the balcony of the apartment, looking up at the sky, a breeze cooling you off in what was otherwise an unseasonably warm night for the end of March.

“It’s amazing how many stars you can see considering how close we are to the city,” you say, breathing in the clean air. You couldn’t remember the last time you say the sky this clear and naturally bright. It was calming, the moon bringing out a more tranquil presence than you had expected.

“Sometimes when we don’t stay directly in the city we’re playing in I’ll go up to the roof at night and just look up. It’s easy to get lost in the stars even when you’re down on Earth.”

“For a hockey player, you sure have a way with words,” you tease, knocking your shoulder against him as the two of you lean on the railing of the balcony.

“And for someone in HR, you’re surprisingly likeable.”

You turn to him, not sure if you should be shocked or flattered, “How many unlikeable HR people do you know?”

“I’m basing everything off Toby from The Office.”

“Toby was not that bad! He was just...weird.” You both laugh and launch yourselves into a debate about the TV show, talking for hours until the sun starts to come up.

“Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Early?” you say, turning to look inside. Everyone was still your, your friend on the couch while the guys around her were on the floor, all asleep.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you don’t need to be up in,” he runs his hand through his hair, checking the time on his phone, “Fuck, I need to be with the guys in less than an hour! I have to go!” He gets up, reaching for his keys in his pocket. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I really do hope we can see each other again.” And just like that, he leaves.

You sit there, shocked that the night actually just happened. That was easily the best night you’ve had in a while. The last time you stayed up like that was probably the night after your high school prom, talking with your best friend and now ex-boyfriend. You want to see him again, but if he’s a professional athlete who couldn’t even get your information, then what was the point?

“Hey, babe. Do you want to go back to your place or mine?” You practically jump out of the chair that you had been sitting in, falling asleep after finding Tyson on Instagram and following him. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Wanna get food first? I was promised dinner last night and ended up drinking a lot of water instead,” you say, checking your phone.

Tyson Jost (josty17) started following you.

“Sure. The dinner down the street from work?” she suggests, pulling you up out of the chair, going back inside.

As you’re careful not to step on anyone who’s still asleep on the floor, your phone dings with another notification from Instagram: josty17 sent you a message.

“I’m down.”

June

Four. Four books was all he had on his nightstand, and all he seemed to have in his entire apartment. “We need a trip to Barnes and Noble or something, you need more stuff to read for me,” you whine, picking up one of the books you’ve already read twice since starting to date Tyson. You were lying on your back in his bed, holding the book up over your face and praying that you don’t drop it on yourself.

“Am I supposed to buy books for you?” he asks, flipping through the channels to find something to watch.

“Well, no, you could buy books for yourself and then I’ll read them once you’re done.”

“I don’t really read that much.”

“But reading’s fun!” you say as he looks at you, his eyebrow raised. “Oh, stop that, you just need to find the right book.”

“And I’m assuming you have a list of books that you want me to get?” he teases, jabbing his hand into your side to tickle you.

“Yes, stop that!” you let out, not hiding your laughter but almost kicking him in the face in the meantime out of reflex, “Fiction or nonfiction?”

“You’re gonna tell me both, aren’t you?” He looks at you, smiling as you nod your head. Rolling his eyes, he says, “Go ahead.”

“Well I personally love Educated by Tara Westover, Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston-”

“Woah there,” he cuts you off, putting his hand over your mouth to get you to stop talking, “I need more than just titles here if I’m gonna buy them. You don’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

“Gross, cliches. But you actually want to hear me sit here and talk about the books I like?”

“You’re cute when you talk about things you’re passionate about, and you hate your job so it doesn’t happen often.”

“Two cliches in like five minutes? That’s gotta be a new record for you, Josty.”

You both start laughing as he turns his attention back to his TV, finally picking a channel to settle on before turning back to you. “I know it’s only been a few months, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You can’t help but smile at his third cliche. Third time really is the charm. “So,” you kiss his cheek, pulling away before he can turn and kiss you more, “Invisible Man is about an unnamed narrator; he’s a black man living in America before the Civil Rights movement, and it’s about how he feels as a black man in white America.” You spend the rest of the night telling him about all your favorite books, him nodding along and smiling as you don’t shut up, knowing that he won’t remember any of the book titles that you told him.

He just loved the way you got excited over stuff like this.

January

“I feel like two gallons of paint is a lot for one room,” Tyson says, handing you the blue paint your brother asked you to pick up. He grabs the rest of the supplies from the back seat of your car to lug up to your brother’s new place. He bought it as his first home with his new wife and asked you to help them paint it. It was getting you a free dinner, so why not?

“We’re only doing his bedroom today and apparently two gallons is enough for a standard-sized room, whatever that means.” You walk up the path to his new house. It was the first time you had seen it, so you were excited to go in even though you knew everything was covered in tarps and plastic.

“My little sister!” Tommy yells as soon as you approach the door. You didn’t even have the chance to knock, him startling you and causing you to almost drop the cans of paint right on his porch.

“Hey, jackass,” you say, bitter that he scared you.

“And you must be Tyson,” Tommy says, taking some of the supplies from him and leading you into the house.

“Uh, yeah, nice to meet, you,” he responds, clearly a little confused by the ‘jackass’ greeting. You might have forgotten some details about yours and your brother’s relationship on the drive over. It was the one where insults like jackass and dumb shit were terms of endearment.

“Shit, bub, you have a nice place!” you look around, admiring it. “Erica must have been so happy when you found this.”

“She was ecstatic. She was even happier when you agreed to help paint for the price of some dinner.”

“Painting is calming and food tastes even better when it’s free, how can I say no?”

He opens the door to the room at the end of the hall. “This is the master. Do you guys want to paint here while Erica and I finish the guest room and work on the living room?”

“Yeah, works for us,” Tyson answers for you.

Tommy leaves the two of you alone to start painting the entire room. You open the can of paint, revealing a light blue paint.

“Remember that night last month when one of the guys dared us to jump in the pool?” you ask Tyson as he pours the paint into the tray.

“Yeah, why?”

“This is the color of blue that I thought we were going to turn if we stayed in the water any longer.”

“Ya know, you’re the only girl I’ve dated that would complain about being in the water with such a hot guy,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, so you’ve dated actual psychopaths?” You joke, rolling the first coat of paint on the wall.

“I’ve only dated one psychopath, and that’s you. But everyone’s a little crazy, most people just call it unique.”

“Can I ask you how many girls you’ve actually dated?”

“You can ask but do I have to answer?” he says, your backs facing each other as you paint opposite walls.

“Please? I’ll tell you mine. Oh come on, what couple doesn’t talk about their old relationships?”

“Healthy ones?”

“Tys.”

“Fine. I’ve been in three serious relationships, or I guess relationships lasting more than four months, not including ours, and one really serious relationship.”

“What’s the difference between the serious ones and the really serious one?”

“Wait, no. Your count and then I’ll tell you.”

You roll your eyes knowing that he can’t see you, letting out a sigh. “A boyfriend in highschool and one in college. Now you.”

“No way,” he says, turning towards you to get more paint.

“What do you mean? I’m not the type to date around. If I’m going to date the guy I want to make sure it has potential for something that’s more than a fling.”

“Well, how can you grow as a person if you don’t give other people a chance? Isn’t it an important part of life to get hurt sometimes?”

“I’m not saying I’ve never gotten hurt before, I just wasn’t in a relationship when I did.”

“How does that work?”

“I thought this was I ask, you answer, you ask, I answer?” you ask, whipping around. Tyson was already facing you when the excess paint comes flying off your roller and splatters across Tyson’s face and chest. “I am so sorry!”

He gets a mischievous look on his face as he dips his hand in the can of paint, “No, no, no!” you screech as he splatters you with paint. The two of you start throwing paint at each other, at one point Tyson grabbing you by the face right after he put his hands in the can.

You’ve wasted half a can of paint on each other when Tommy comes knocking on the door, “What the hell are you two doing? Is this some sort of kinky sex thing?”

You scream, grabbing onto Tyson out of reflex, “That is not something I would talk about with you, and no! Go back to your wife!” Tommy just shrugs and leaves, closing the door slowly behind him. “Was this a fight?” you ask Tyson once you hear your brother go down the stairs.

“Maybe? We can say yes. What kind of couple doesn’t fit?”

“Weird ones,” you say, both of you laughing as your dripping with paint.

“I love you,” he says, “And I want to kiss you, but I don’t think the paint would taste good.”

“I love you, too. But yeah, no. Please don’t eat the paint.”

December

“Why are you giving me the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” Tyson asks, walking hand in hand with you through the streets of Denver.

You stop and pull him aside, “I don’t think you understand what the cold shoulder is.”

“It’s when someone is intentionally unfriendly.”

“Am I being unfriendly”?

“You haven’t talked to me since we left the restaurant.”

“I’ve been thinking!” you defend yourself. When you get deep in thought, you sort of shut down from the world around you. You still move about like a normal person, but the interaction between you and other people is minimal.

“Thinking about what?” He lifts your chin, trying to get you to look at him. You bite your bottom lip. He knows you’re thinking about something that’s bothering you.

“How long is this going to last since you’re always going to practice and traveling?”

Since that night you met, you had been talking nonstop. You feel hard and fast for this boy who was never home at the start of whatever relationship you had with him. Once his season was over, he started taking you out on dates; the two of you probably went on actual dates at least twice a week, and hung out the other five nights at your apartment, his apartment, or at whatever party one of you had been invited to. He was your boyfriend in every sense of the word, but would that end once the season starts.

“What do you want to happen?” he says, smiling, pulling you closer to him.

“Well, I like what we have. I don’t want it to end.”

“I wasn’t planning on ending it, where you?”

“No.”

“Then why worry?”

“I mean, do you want this last?”

“Of course I do. Come on.” He puts his arm around your shoulder, leading you down the street. He takes you into a Target, “Whatever you want, I will buy you.”

“That’s dangerous, bud. You know what I’m like in Target,” you tell him as he steers you towards the jewelry department.

“What about this?” he says holding up a ring.

“Is that just a ring, or is that a promise ring?”

“What do you want it to be?”

“It’s going to be nothing if you don’t start making decisions!” You both start laughing as he slips the ring onto your right ring finger.

“I like a promise ring.”

“Wait, actually,” you say, taking the ring off and grabbing Tyson’s hand, “Come with me.”

You lead him to the party section of the store, down the aisle with all the tissue paper. “Pick a color.”

He looks at all the options, the solid colors, striped pastels, polka dots, rainbow, scalloped paper. “I like the red.”

“No. Green,” you ignore him, picking up the package of green tissue paper and pulling him down on the floor to sit with you.

“Then why did you ask?” he cries as you tear open the package, “Um, isn’t this stealing?”

“No, you’re gonna pay for this. What you’ve never opened a bag of chips and snacked while shopping before?” He laughs at you as you start folding the paper into strips. You reach for his right hand, wrapping and folding the paper so that it stays on his ring finger. You do the same thing for yourself, holding your hand up to admire it.

“What is this?” he asks, smiling, shifting his gaze between the ring and you.

“Paper rings. I like these better. I don’t need something flashy from you to prove that you want to stay with me,” you say as he pulls you up off the floor, pulling you into a hug, “Plus $1.59 is a lot less of a financial burden than any ring that I probably wouldn’t wear.”

“I love it,” he says, kissing the top of your head as you walk to the register to buy your rings.

September, three years later

“Happy anniversary, babe,” you say, hugging Tyson from behind and kissing him on the cheek as he sits at the kitchen table, the dinner he made sitting in front of him.

“Happy anniversary, my beautiful wife.”

“Can you believe we’ve already been married for a year?”

“And yet it feels like I’ve known you forever.”

You start laughing, nearly spitting out the wine that you were drinking. “There’s that cliche crap I love from you.”

“Do we want to do presents now or after we finish eating?”

“That depends: is the gift something that actually can be given right now before the food gets cold?”

He stops for a moment before realizing what you mean, “One of them yes, the other is definitely in the bedroom.” He puts a large box on the table, wrapped neatly with a bow.

“I have to go get yours, wait!” you say, running down the hall to the closet where you were keeping his.

“Open yours first!”

You take off the bow, ripping through the paper. Inside the box are a bunch of books: Their Eyes Were Watching God, Educated, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Blind Side, and Native Son. “Are these all the books that I suggested to you years ago?”

“Some of them, yeah. The others I actually got and have been reading on the road using the Kindle App on my phone. Who would have thought books were good?”

“You sound like an idiot. But I love this! I can’t believe you remembered!” You get up and kiss him, shoving the gift you got him in his face. “Now it’s your turn!”

He opens the bag, his face lighting up when he sees what it is. Last season, the Avalanche won the division, winning the Campbell trophy. You and some of the other wives and girlfriends were allowed on the ice, you jumping into Tyson’s arms as he lifted you up and kissed you. Someone got a series of pictures of that night, and you got them framed for him. “Babe. I love this.”

“I think we set the bar too high for anniversary gifts,” you say as he kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, next year I’m just going to sleep with you.”

“Tyson!” you squeal, throwing a piece of lettuce at him from the bowl of salad that was in front of you. “That’s so crude!”

“Yeah, maybe. But I have one more gift for you tonight.”

He puts a small box on the table in front of you. “What is this?”

“Well, open it!”

You shake your head, smiling at how eager he was. What could it be? Inside the box are two green pieces of paper. “Are these the paper rings we made at Target? You kept these?”

“Yeah. You said that you didn’t need jewelry to know that we were going to stay together. That was the night I knew you were the one, craziness and all.”

You can’t help but start crying over how sweet that was. You couldn’t believe he had kept something like two pieces of tissue paper. How many people can say paper rings were a symbol of their relationship?

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagines #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche imagines #avalanche #nhl #nhl imagines #paper rings #taylor swift #hockey #hockey imagines

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queenmylovely · 4 years

Text

Wedding Party- Mini ii

Summary: Ben hardy x fem!reader. Your normal Sunday routine with Ben is interrupted by a hangover.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: cussing, smut (fingering, protected sex, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

Request: smut and hanging around being cute?- requested by my roommate

A/N: I still love these two and they deserve all the soft smut in the world. I think I’m done with 700 stuff (I mean unless anyone wants to send more stuff) other than something that was sent in that might have taken on a life of its own. Keep tuned. Any feedback is super appreciated but especially replies, messages, and asks are super helpful for my writing ‘cause I get to hear what you think!

what’s going on send me stuff!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Mini i, Masterlist

(ignore joey but that’s how ben looks at you, gif by @mrbenhardys)

💖💖💖

A month and a half after Lucy and Rami’s wedding, you and Ben had developed a good routine that started with going out on Saturday nights, whether it was to dinner, to a bar, over to Lucy and Rami’s, or whatever plans you could scare up. Then you would go to his or yours, it alternated every weekend, have hot sex and crash for the night. The next day you would laze around, having a relaxed brunch of pancakes or waffles, eating them as they came off the griddle. You two might help each other do whatever chores you needed to do, if you had the motivation. If not, it’d just be a nice day to hang out and probably have some lazy sex in the afternoon.

This Sunday was pretty much the same and the two of you were laying in bed at your apartment about an hour after waking up. The night before was another of Lucy and Rami’s game nights, and since you were staying at your place, you drove. It was the last one before Joe had to go back to the states (though he still wasn’t leaving for another week). Since you were driving, you told Ben to live it up and he really listened, getting too drunk to do anything but be put straight to bed once you got to your place.

So today, Ben was extremely hung over. Lucky for him, and you, he wasn’t the type to throw up, but he did have a raging headache and achy body. So when the two of you had gotten up, you had drawn the blinds and closed the curtains to block out the bright sunlight. And you had gotten him a glass of water and aspirin to help the headache.

Then he had looked at you with puppy dog eyes and jutted out those lips of his in a pout and asked, “Can you give me a massage?”

You rolled your eyes but acquiesced, pushing him onto his stomach. Then you straddled his lower back and started with his arms. From his biceps down to his forearms to his hands, you got every inch while Ben hummed his approval. Next you moved to his shoulders and neck, working out the tension and Ben groaned when you worked out a knot with your elbow.

“You know, you should get regular massages with all the working out you do. You don’t get knots from being hungover,” you pointed out.

“Mhmm,” was all that Ben managed.

After his upper back, you did a quick bit over his lower back because that wasn’t very sore or tense. Then turned around so you were facing the other way. You even did a few rubs over his ass, then gave it a quick swat which made Ben cry out, “Babe!” and you laughed.

“I refuse to do your feet for a hangover,” you told him and he chuckled, so instead you started with his calves.

Once they were done, you slowly moved up his thighs and you probably spent a little extra time there, but who could blame you? Lastly you started to work your way up his inner thighs and you heard Ben’s breath catch. You kept going and Ben moaned, more sexual than relaxed.

“You good, baby?” you asked with a light laugh.

“Fuck, you got me hard,” he lifted his head from his arms and said with a little whine in his voice that made you feel a type of way.

“Too bad you have too big of a headache to fuck right now,” you said wistfully.

“Says you,” he countered, turning to look at you, but still squinting his eyes due to the light.

“Well me is who you have to convince to get fucked,” you pointed out. Then you got up from on top of him and said, “I’m going to make some breakfast. You’re welcome to join if you can stand the light in the kitchen.”

Ben groaned and put his head back on his arms as you walked away.

A couple hours later with some food in your stomach (you had taken some to Ben who was still in your bedroom), you were lounging on the couch, reading a book with soft music playing over the speakers.

Ben came walking out of your bedroom, rubbing his eyes and groaning softly.

“Did you have a nice little nap, baby?” you asked with a smile, putting your book to the side.

He nodded sleepily and then asked, “Can I lay down with you?”

“Yeah, come on,” you told him, holding your arms out for him. Since you were on your back, he laid down between your legs, resting his head on your chest. He pressed a soft kiss to your boob through your shirt and you laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly.

“Read to me, babe,” Ben said softly.

Picking up your book again, you found your page and then started reading. Ben interrupted every so often with questions to catch up but for the most part was quiet, paying attention to your voice.

The two of you laid like that for a while until your voice got tired and you set down the book again. Then you settled in and started playing with Ben’s hair lazily and he pressed another kiss to your chest. This time you didn’t swat his shoulder and he placed another kiss.

***

Ben’s hands smoothed up under your shirt and he brushed the sides of your breasts with his thumbs. The light touch made you shiver and Ben kissed his way to your right nipple, mouthing it over your shirt. You hummed and tugged his hair lightly to get him to switch to the other side. Once he had you breathing quicker, he helped you lift your shirt over your head.

“Yours too, baby,” you said with a smile and you helped him take it off. You ran your hands down his torso, thumbing at his nipples and feeling his abs.

Ben pressed hot kisses up from your chest to your neck and then finally reached your mouth. His lips moving against yours, it wasn’t long before you were moaning and opening your mouth for his tongue.

His hand traveled down your body and landed over your clothed pussy. He rubbed at your clit through your clothes and while it was good, you wanted more.

Breaking the kiss, you whispered against his lips, “I can just take them off for you.”

Ben chuckled against your mouth and took your pants and underwear off for you. You opened your mouth to say something but Ben beat you to it.

“I know, mine too,” he said with a laugh and you nodded happily.

Everything off, Ben’s hand came back between your thighs and his middle finger found your clit. You sighed and brought him to kiss you again, running your hands through his hair and then scratching your hands down his back.

Ben’s finger moved down to your entrance, pushing inside slowly and you moaned into his mouth. You could tell that Ben was into it too, his hard dick pressing against the side of your thigh. Ben pushed another finger in with the first and you gasped when the heel of his hand started to rub against your clit.

One of your hands on Ben’s hip, you pulled him closer to you until his hips were practically flush with yours.

He broke the kiss, “Uh, you’re kinda trapping my hand, babe.”

“Then move it-- out of the way-- I’m trying to get-- to something else,” you mumbled in between short kisses.

Ben grinned and moved his hand, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before jumping up from the couch.

“Ow, that hurt my head. Just a second,” Ben said, searching for his pants wherever they landed. Then he pulled a condom out of the pocket of his sweatpants and you laughed incredulously.

“Are you serious? Did you put a condom in your pocket ahead of time?” you said, still laughing.

“Well you said that I had to convince you and I knew that’d be pretty easy,” Ben admitted, already putting the condom on.

You gave him a mostly fake shocked look, “Are you saying I’m easy?”

“I’m speaking from previous experience. Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he said with a smirk, gesturing to himself.

“Shut up and get over here,” you said with a roll of your eyes, reaching up for him again.

He climbed back on top of you, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to guide his cock inside of your pussy slowly and he dropped his head to your shoulder. Then he just stayed there for a moment.

“Aren’t you going to move?” you asked, tapping the back of his head.

“I’m just feeling for a minute,” he explained, still staying still but lifting his head.

“You convinced me of fucking, not cockwarming, speed it up,” you told him wryly, clenching around him purposefully to entice him.

“Always so impatient,” he commented, finally starting to thrust. Even though he was still going slower than fast, he was going deep, and you made a happy sound at the feeling. “‘cept when you’re the one teasing.”

“That’s an entirely-- entirely different situation,” you said, stuttering a little when his hand found its way back to your clit.

“You should be able to take what you dish out,” was Ben’s rebuttal, but with how deep he was fucking you and the mix of frictions of his cock in your pussy and his fingers on your clit, your words escaped you.

All you could do was shush him before pulling him into another kiss. At least that didn’t need brainpower because your mouths always naturally worked together. But the slow pace and amazing feeling was making you itchy for more, like your fingertips were burning with need. So you kissed down his jaw to his neck, using your teeth to nip at all of the spots with faded hickeys on Ben’s neck. He would probably complain again that you kept giving him hickeys in the same spots, never letting them completely fade, but they looked so good there that you did it anyway.

When you nipped at his pulse point, Ben moaned and his hips snapped against yours and you gasped.

“Yes, Ben, do that-- do that again, again,” you said breathlessly.

To your relief, he did, and you continued your work on his neck. One particularly hard thrust had your pussy clenching around him and Ben whined, “aah fuck-- fuck, babe, you feel good, so good.”

“You too, so good, baby,” you breathed into his neck. “I’m gonna come, just keep going and come too, wanna feel it.”

Ben nodded frantically, keeping his hips thrusting into you even a little harder, and his fingers moved faster on your clit. A few more seconds and you were coming, your mouth pressed against Ben’s neck to stifle your moans as you felt the pleasure radiate from your pussy and clit out to burn along your back, neck, all the way out to your fingertips.

You came down and Ben was still going, still chasing his release like you told him to. Wanting to help him along, you wrapped your legs around his waist and just that little change in angle had him coming in two more thrusts. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, his pitchy moans next to your ear, and your aftershocks gave you a heady feeling that you now associated with sex with Ben. Knowing that you were able to make each other feel so good was a pleasure of its own and always kept you hungry for more.

Once Ben’s breathing had slowed a little, you leaned up and brought your lips to his in a soft and sweet kiss. After a couple minutes of lazily making out, you pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, we gotta get up, baby. Still need to do meal prep for this week,” you reminded him and he groaned.

“Let’s just stay here a little while longer,” Ben tried, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” you said.

“Fine, but you have to give me some of the food to take home,” lifting his head to look at you.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, “Of course.”

💖💖💖

Permanent taglist: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor @queenlover05 @johndeaconshands @supersonicfreddie

Series taglist: @killer-queen-87 @theprettyandthereckless @radiob-l-a-hblah @theonsasheart @hannafuckingsucks @takemetoneverland420

If you would like to be added to my permanent taglist, just send me a message or ask!

#my fav sex positive couple #and theyre in love already just fyi #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #ben hardy #ben jones #wedding party #queenmylovely #fic #series #fluff #smut #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #borhap x reader #borhap boys #borhap cast #bohemian rapsody movie

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lelitachay · 4 years

Text

Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: Even though Anna loved her sister-in-law, she couldn’t help but notice there was something peculiar about Elsa. Everything starts to make sense after an accident and a forced family reunion.

Modern AU. Kristanna - Frohana - Kristoff & Elsa BrOTP.

Chapters 1 to 10 - Here

Chapter 11 - Repercussions

Chapter 12 - Time apart

Chapter 13 - Guilt

Chapter 14 - The way I see it

Chapter 15 - Reconnecting

Chapter 16 - Finding home

Chapter 17 - What the future holds

Chapter 18 - Broken trust

Chapter 19 - Reopening old wounds

The visit

Lying in bed for several hours had proved to be useless for Elsa. It didn’t matter how tired she felt, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. She had tossed and turned for hours, hoping to finally get some sleep, but her mind kept going back to her conversation with Anna. It kept going back to the document she had found and what it meant for her.

She had gone to bed shortly after Anna had left. But she had barely slept for an hour or two before another nightmare woke her up. And after that, falling back asleep had proved to be impossible.

Talking about her past to Anna had opened up scars that weren't completely healed. Her days inside the clinic had been the worst of her life, and talking about them always triggered the worst memories. Memories that took days or weeks to fade once again.

In the past, every time those memories had come back to haunt her, she had calmed her restless mind with the idea that those days were over. They were part of a troubled past that she was little by little leaving behind. But this time, however, she couldn’t find that silver lining.

Telling the world what Weselton had done put her on the spotlight, and being in the public eye could backfire. Kai’s petition meant she was going to be forced to talk about her past in front of people. She was going to be asked question and possibly requested to give more details than the ones she had given Kristoff and Anna. And she knew for a fact she wasn’t ready to do something like that. She knew there was no way she could face a courtroom full of people and talk about her past without her powers manifesting, or what was worse, they acting on their own and hurting people around her.

In short, she couldn’t put her mind at ease if there existed a slim possibility of people finding out about her powers and locking her up once again.

She sighed and turned for the umpteenth time and faced the ceiling once again. Eighty-four wooden planks. Eighty-four wooden planks and nine beams. She didn’t even need to count the wooden planks in her ceiling. It had been the only activity that had helped her keep her mind distracted, but it was no longer working.

Tired of lying in bed and fighting against her own mind, Elsa got up and went to the kitchen to find something to drink. She needed her mind to stop over-thinking things for just a moment, and she guessed that moving could actually help with that.

The idea of drinking a beer was tempting, but she thought better of it. She found it hard to stop at just one whenever she was feeling anxious and the last thing she needed was to wake up the following day with a hangover. Opting for a glass of milk instead, she opened the fridge in hopes of finding one last bottle. But to her disappointment there was none. It was at that moment she remembered she had planned to spend the afternoon grocery shopping instead of trying in vain to fall asleep.

She closed the fridge's door with more force than necessary and sat down on the closest chair. Yet another tired sigh escaped her lips as she rested her head on the wooden table. She knew she could still catch the last bus to town and continue with her original plan and pretend the events of the previous night hadn't happened; but part of her knew she couldn’t face her family just yet.

She wasn't sure she wanted to confront her father so soon. And even if Anna insisted she should listen to him before jumping to conclusions, she couldn’t stop feeling disappointed and hurt.

She raised her head when a knock on her door distracted her from her thoughts. At first she thought it had been her imagination, but a second knock made her realise there was actually someone waiting outside her door.

The first person to come to mind was Marshmallow. He usually travelled to Trolheim on Saturdays, and from time to time he would offer her a ride. And since she didn't wish for him to see her like that, she stayed where she was pretending she wasn’t home.

She knew he was bound to ask questions giving her appearance, and she wasn’t sure she could make up a believable story. After all, she had big bags under her eyes and she was still wearing the old baggy t-shirt and worn out shorts she wore to bed. A look that didn't match a fake smile.

After three more knocks, when she thought he had finally left; she heard the door open. Knowing Marshall would never enter her house uninvited, she got up to see who was entering her house.

"Elsa! You're here!" said Kristoff, when she walked into the living room. "Why didn't you open the door?"

"Why does everyone enters this place as they see fit?" she answered, ignoring her brother’s question completely.

"You never lock your door." A lame excuse, he knew.

"That doesn't give you the right to barge in."

"Sorry," he apologised. It was clear she was angrier than usual about his lack of manners, and he just wanted to avoid a fight. "We thought you weren't home. We were going to wait inside until you returned."

"I should listen to Kai and start locking the stupid door," she said to herself, a little bit louder than intended.

"Yes, you should," came Kai’s reply from outside the door.

"Dad?” The lack of sleep was surely making her mind play tricks.

"Can you please let us in, Kristoff?" asked Gerda from the outside, tired of waiting for her son to move from the entrance.

Only when he did move, she was able to hurry to her daughter's side. "Elsa, dear, how are you feeling?"

Not wanting to be rude, Elsa told her she was feeling fine before asking, "What are you doing here?" She didn't like the sudden visit, and she knew there was a reason behind her mother's fussiness.

"Are you sure, sweetheart? You look exhausted." Gerda insisted, as she cupped Elsa’s face with her hands.

"We came to see you," answered Kai still standing near the door.

"Yes, mum. I'm fine," repeated Elsa as she moved her face from her mother's grasp. Elsa made sure to hold the old woman’s hands, preventing Gerda from touching her again.

She didn’t mind her mother’s affection under normal circumstances, but right at that moment she wanted some space. Elsa knew Gerda was going to notice things were not okay, but she still wanted to keep up the appearance. However, it was really hard to do so if Gerda continued fussing over her.

"What are you really doing here?" Elsa asked Kristoff, hoping her brother was going to be more straight forward with his answer.

Contrary to what his mother was doing, Kristoff tried to give Elsa some space, and he sat on the couch. "Anna told me what happened last night. We came here to talk.” Noticing the way his sister's face suddenly contorted with worry, he clarified, “Actually, dad came here to talk. Mum and I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Dear, your hands are really cold." Gerda had always made the effort not to point out Elsa’s powers without a reason, but right at that moment Elsa was still holding her hands and it was becoming hard to pretend they weren’t painfully cold.

Her mother's comment made Elsa realise there was a thin layer of frost covering her hands and she let go in an instant. Putting some distance between her family and herself, she said, "I don't blame Anna for worrying, but right now is not the best time.” They way her powers had just reacted was clear indication of that. “I'm not in the right mood to have this conversation."

“I’m sorry, Elsa. But we need to talk about this,” said Kai. “The sooner I explain what that document you found is, the better.”

“Dad-” she tried to stop him. She was still hurt about his idea of opening her case once again, and she wasn’t sure how to explain to him her fears.

However, Kai interrupted her before she got the chance. “First of all, I'm sorry you found out about this on your own. I wanted to talk to you and explain things to you before doing anything. That document you found is part of a formal petition-”

"Anna explained to me what it is,” Elsa cut her father off. She was tired. She didn’t want to hear him talk in a methodical way. She wasn’t part of another police procedure, at least not anymore. The least she expected from her father was for him to be straightforward. “You're requesting for my case to be opened once again."

“Yes. That is correct,” he admitted. “However-” Elsa turning around and walking to her bedroom interrupted him mid sentence. “Where are you going?”

“Elsa?” called Gerda soon after.

Before they could follow, Elsa reappeared with the document in her hand.

“Here,” she said as she put the paper in Kai’s chest. “You can have it back. Do whatever you want. But I won’t take part in any of this.” Not waiting for her father’s answer she walked into the kitchen ready to continue with her original plan for the evening. Find something to drink and go back to bed.

Gerda took a step closer to Kai and whispered, “Kai, you better do something.”

He exhaled as he thought what was best to do. Elsa was clearly hurt, he could see it in her eyes, but he couldn’t solve anything if his daughter didn’t give him the opportunity to talk and explain himself.

He entered the kitchen and said, “Elsa, we need to talk.”

Continuing with what she was doing, Elsa closed the cupboard door and ignored her father. Maybe some tea could help her fall asleep.

“Elsa.”

“I'm not in the mood to discuss this right now.” She didn’t turn around to face him.

“I need you to listen-”

“No!”

It wasn’t the angered response what surprised Kai, but the sound of a cup breaking.

“Damn it!” Elsa cursed when she noticed the cut on her finger. Her control over her powers had slipped for just a moment, and it had broken the cup she was using to fill the kettle. She hated whenever her body didn’t let her do the simplest tasks. "Useless freak."

Gerda entered the kitchen just in time to see her daughter muttering to herself after the curse. And then she noticed her hand covered in blood. Her instincts kicking in, she rushed to Elsa's side. “Let me help you.”

“It’s fine.”

“But-”

“I said it’s fine.” Turning around, Elsa looked for a piece of cloth and wrapped it around her finger to stop the bleeding. She could feel the disapproving look of Gerda, but she didn’t care. She could just clean the wound later.

Kai waited till the situation was under control before trying to talk with his daughter once again, “Can we talk now, Elsa? Please.”

"I don't want to talk,” countered Elsa in a lower tone of voice. “I don't. But that doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't matter what I want.”

“Of course it does.”

“Then why did you open my case?” she asked. Finally reaching her breaking point. "You promised me you wouldn't, yet you did. My opinion didn't really matter after all.”

“Elsa, you're getting ahead of things. This is just a petition. A request. Your case is not open yet.” He tried to reason. He could understand Elsa’s distress, and he wanted to make sure she knew there was nothing to worry about.

To hear Kai say the case was still closed allowed Gerda to sigh in relief. At least things could be resolved inside the family.

“You’re not answering my question. Why did you do it?” Elsa didn't stop to think about his answer. At that moment she wanted to hear her father's reasons more than anything.

Thinking it was best to just answer her question. His explanation could wait. “Because I care about you. And I think it's unfair you're the only person who didn't obtain justice in his trial.”

“I don't blame you for wanting justice, Kai. I do too. But this was not the right way to proceed,” Gerda was still mad her husband had written the petition without taking Elsa's wishes into consideration.

“You and Gerda promised to help me build a life away from my past. Away from everything I went through. That paper is the opposite of that,” said Elsa pointing to the document in his hand.

Kai walked to the closest chair and sat down with a sigh. “Look, I know it isn't exactly what I promised,” he agreed. “But I need you to understand I had your opinion in mind, all the time. I wasn't going to send this without your approval. I was going to talk with you.” Turning around he looked at his wife and son, who had also entered the kitchen, and clarified, “all of you.”

Noticing his sister wasn't reacting, Kristoff picked the document from the table and skimmed over it quickly. “It's signed by several police officers. Why would you take the trouble to do that before talking with Elsa?"

“At the beginning, I thought it was plausible to open a case against Weselton without getting Elsa involved.” He looked at his daughter to make sure she was listening and continued, "Some colleagues let me see it wasn't going to work and they all agreed it was best to work with Elsa's original case if I wanted justice. They offered their help; and soon after, the petition was written and signed.”

Even if Kristoff didn't agree with his father's methods, he too believed Weselton needed to pay for his crimes. And it made him happy to know there were other police officers willing to help Elsa find justice.

"I found myself with half the initial work done before I knew what to do," continued Kai before his son could answer. "It’s for this reason I kept the document inside one of the composition books until I decided what to do."

"Why were you looking for it earlier today?" Gerda couldn't help but ask.

"I wanted to show it to you and ask for your opinion, Gerda. I wanted to talk to Elsa and I didn't know how." He looked down in shame at that. The love he had for Kristoff and Elsa was immeasurable, but there were times Kai still felt inadequate to communicate with them. It was hard for him to express his ideas and not sound like he was imposing them.

“So, you never sent the petition?” asked Kristoff, wanting to make sure there was nothing to worry about.

Kai shook his head and asked Kristoff to hand him the document back. “This is the original document.”

“Rip it up,” Elsa demanded. Hoping to put an end to her problems.

Kai looked at her and then at the document in his hand. He wanted to destroy the document and be on good terms with his daughter again. He wanted to make Elsa happy and show her she could trust him. However, a part of him still wanted to help that little girl he had seen in a hospital bed all those years ago. “Are you sure you don't want to give this a second thought?” he asked.

Arms crossed in front of her chest, she answered with resolution. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Not having the heart to go against her wishes for a second time, Kai tore the document apart in front of her. He was letting go of their chance to keep Weselton behind bars, but he couldn’t force Elsa to do something she didn’t want.

Elsa remained where she was. Leaning against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. She was feeling a lot better now that she knew there wasn’t any risk of people finding out about her past and her powers; yet pain and sadness still lingered in her mind.

Just like everyone else, Gerda stayed silent lost in her own thoughts after Kai complied to their daughter's wishes.

From the very beginning Gerda had been against Kai’s idea of opening Elsa’s case once again. She was aware of the consequences of exposing Elsa to the public eye. The prosecutor had been more than clear about it years before.

Nonetheless, there was a part of her that still wondered if what they were doing was right. The idea of such an unscrupulous man walking free was unacceptable. And she knew anyone would agree with her on that matter. Anyone but Elsa. Or at least that's what it looked like. The way Elsa had reacted let Gerda see she'd rather accept Weselton’s freedom, than being requested to speak in front of a jury.

Gerda couldn't help but think of it as something strange. One would think she'd be the first person to ask for justice, but that wasn't the case.

Elsa wanted to keep her past behind and move on with her life. That was clear. But Gerda could feel there was something else.

Not thinking twice about it, and believing it was finally time Elsa opened up about the way she felt, Gerda dared ask, “what's keeping you from accepting your father's offer?"

Elsa raised her head to look at her mother, who was a few steps away from her. “What?”

“I don't want to change your mind,” she said before Elsa got defensive once again. “I've got my reasons to believe it's best to leave things as they are. But I want to hear your reasons. After all..." She took a deep breath knowing it was a sensitive topic. "Weselton will be walking free in a few years.”

“Mum...” Kristoff tried to warn before things got out of hand. He understood his parents' concerns, but he also understood Elsa’s fears.

Elsa’s silence only encouraged Gerda to continue. She usually avoided talking about this with her daughter, but she felt it was best to have the conversation now that the wound was open. "I just want to hear your reasons, Sweetheart."

Not knowing how to explain the way she felt, Elsa simply answered, “I can’t face a jury. I just can’t."

“Why?" she tried again. "Try to put into words the way you feel. I think it’ll help your father and I understand.”

Kristoff stayed silent looking how with gentle words and patience his mother was able to get Elsa to open up. He admired that about the old woman.

Elsa, on her part, took some time to put into words the way she felt. After taking a deep breath, she gave it a try. “I'll be on the spotlight.”

“And?”

“And I'll lose control of my powers as soon as I start talking. I'll be exposed…" She made everything in her power to avoid her mother's eyes. "Everyone will know how dangerous I am.”

“You’re not dangerous, Elsa,” said Kai interrupting their conversation. He couldn't stand Elsa talking about herself in that way.

“As soon as I lose control of my powers people will think I am.” She continued, ignoring her father. “It will be easy for Weselton to prove his point then. Everyone will see reason behind the things he did."

"Elsa, wait. Try to-" Gerda tried to make her slow down.

"Sooner than later, they'll lock me inside a clinic to be studied again.”

“That won't happen, Elsa,” said Kai not tolerating even the idea of that happening again.

“Yes, it will.”

"No, it won't," he insisted. "The judge and everyone involved will be surprised, but if you explain what that horrible man did to you-"

"It won't make a difference because people hate the things they can't understand… People can be cruel, Kai."

The look of pain on her face broke Gerda’s heart. It hurt to know she was talking from experience.

"I know what it feels like to be at the mercy of cruel people. Not you."

Kai had to agree that it was true. He hadn't experienced cruelty first hand, but his job had taught him a thing or two and he knew he could keep her safe. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

"You can’t promise that," answered Elsa dejectedly. "You don’t know how my powers are going to react under so much stress. It could be a disaster. If I end up hurting someone again, everyone will see reason behind Weselton's actions and I’ll be forced back in a cage."

“No one's going to force you back in a cage. I won't allow it.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How can you believe something like that?!” To hear Elsa had so little faith in them hurt him deeply. “After everything we've gone through-”

Gerda, on the other hand, didn’t take Elsa’s statement to heart. She wasn’t accusing them. She was merely stating a fact, as if she believed the right thing was for them to allow that to happen. “What do you mean, ‘hurting someone again’?” she asked, interrupting her husband.

Elsa held her mother’s for just a fraction of a second, before looking at the floor in remorse. That was the reason she never talked about the way she felt, she always ended up saying a little too much. She stayed silent battling what to do. She could feel her powers tickling under her skin and the lump in her throat getting bigger.

From where he was standing, Kristoff noticed the tears streaming down her face. He considered it was time Elsa told their parents everything she had gone through. He believed they were going to understand. He was certain. And finally knowing about her past was going to help them understand. “Elsa, they deserve to know,” he said, surprising everyone in the room.

“What is your brother talking about?” asked Gerda gently. Elsa had come so far, she just needed her to say had really happened to her.

“I hurt someone with my powers once,” she answered after several minutes, when she felt the ice was more or less under control.

“Who?”

“A nurse. It was inside the clinic.” She couldn’t raise her head. She couldn’t face her mother’s disappointment.

“How bad?”

“Bad. I never saw her again-” A sob interrupted her. “I don’t know what happened to her.”

“Oh, dear…" Gerda walked the distance that separated them. But Elsa moved away just before she could wrap her arms around her.

"Mum, aren't you listening? I'm a threat." She said with a broken voice.

Angered by the fact Elsa wouldn't even allow herself to be comforted. Gerda forced Elsa to lock eyes with her. "Look at me. Look at me," she repeated when Elsa tried to look away. "Get it into your thick head. You are not dangerous. You were just a child trying everything in your power to protect yourself. You're not dangerous. Those who locked you up are."

Not giving Elsa the chance to put some distance between them, she hugged her tight.

There wasn’t anything Elsa wanted more than to believe her mother’s words, but it was so hard to ignore the frightened look of that nurse. “I still don’t understand why you aren’t afraid of me…”

Her big blue eyes carried so much guilt and sadness, Gerda couldn’t fathom the idea of someone considering her dangerous. "Because when I look into your eyes and I see how much you care. We know who you really are. You are not your powers. They are part of you, That’s true. But they don’t define who you are.” Gerda held Elsa tighter, showing her how much she really trusted her. “You’re just a scared child."

Finally letting her walls down, Elsa hid her face in her mother’s neck and hugged her just as tight. She let go of all the pain and frustration she had been holding and allowed herself to cry.

It was only when she had calmed down that Gerda spoke again. “Your father and I need you to tell us everything you went through, okay?” She offered her a sad smile as she dried with her thumb the remaining tears. “It’s the only way we can help you and protect you. Not to mention the only way we can avoid doing stupid things like-”

“Opening my case again?” she asked in a low voice.

“Exactly,” said Gerda with a smile.

Kristoff couldn’t help but chuckle at his father’s mortified expression.

“Okay…” agreed Elsa.

It was almost midnight when Elsa finished her story. Somehow having told her story to Anna the previous night helped her open up to her parents. Kristoff’s presence and constant support also made things easier. Just like she had done with Anna and Kristoff, she had avoided the most gruesome parts, but she knew her parents perfectly understood the things she didn’t say.

Both her parents had cried and cursed, but true to their word, they didn’t suggest doing anything against Weselton. And it helped Elsa feel more relieved, knowing that they had found logic in her fears, and they weren’t going to force her to do anything that could put her in danger.

They only bid their goodbyes after Elsa assured them she was going to be okay on her own. Going straight to bed and calling them first thing in the morning.

Kristoff, being the last to walk out the door, stopped in his tracks and looked at Elsa for a moment. He offered her a smile and said, "I'm sorry we showed up the way we did. We were worried."

"I know."

“I didn't want you to be alone and I thought Kai owned you an explanation.”

Elsa nodded, perfectly understanding her brother’s reasoning. Maybe her mind was a mess right at that moment, but she was honestly happy her family had showed up. She still felt somewhat hurt for Kai’s actions, but she couldn’t blame him for caring. “I'm glad you came, Kristoff.”

“Elsa?”

“Mmh?”

“Can I give you a hug?”

A small smile appeared on her face. “Since when do you ask permission?”

“Since this afternoon, when I thought you were going to kill me for entering your house without permission,” he answered, trying to light the mood.

Elsa gave him a hug and then watched him go, together with their parents.

Once inside her house, she cleaned her wound and made herself some tea. She sat on the couch to think about everything that had happened in just forty-eight hours. It was crazy to think she had been so miserable the day before. She felt good about the fact she had been able to tell her brother the truth when he was leaving. She was truly happy her family had showed up when they did. And she was relieved she had finally opened up about her past with the people she loved the most.

When she was about to turn the lights off, a pile of letters on the coffee table called her attention. Idunn’s letters had been tossed over it earlier that day, and she hadn’t given them much thought.

She pondered for a moment what was best to do with them. The idea of burning them came to mind, she definitely wanted to. But those letters contained the answer to several questions about her childhood. Thinking it was best to ignore the letters until she could think more clearly, she picked them up and put them in between some books inside her library. Maybe one day, she could give Idunn a chance.

Several knocks on Kristoff’s door woke him up from his slumber. He stretched his arm and picked the alarm clock on the bedside table. He wasn’t surprised to see it was already midday. After all, he had arrived late the previous night feeling more tired than usual.

Even if hir sister had been the one who had opened up about her fears and her past, Kristoff had been nervous himself for most part of the conversation. He had felt like that fourteen-year-old kid all over again, who didn’t know what to do to help his parents or his sister.

He remembered the excitement he had felt when his childhood friend became his sister. But once the excitement had worn off, he began to notice how much Elsa had changed in a just a few years. She didn’t smile as often, and the silly jokes once amused her, no longer made her smile. He had noticed his parents’ constant worry and he had felt useless. It was for this reason he had self-appointed himself as Elsa’s protector.

But there was little he could do to protect his sister when the things hurting her were her memories and the distorted version she had of herself. It was then he let his mother do what she did best, which was to prompt Elsa to talk and help her in the process. Something he believed she had done perfectly well the previous night. But still, the meeting had been emotionally taxing, and for that reason he was having such a hard time getting out of bed.

Sven barking near his front door reminded him someone was knocking at the door. And he had an idea who that someone was. Jumping out the bed, he hurried to let his girlfriend in.

Anna entered the apartment and Sven didn’t waste time to jump and greet her. “Sven, you saw her yesterday. Please, let her be.”

“You know I don’t mind,” she said while she kneeled in front of the dog to scratch his ears.

Sven got tired after a few minutes and he sat near the door once again, expectant to see if it didn’t open once again.

Once Anna was standing once again, she pointed to the dog’s strange behaviour. “What’s with him?”

“He always does that when he misses Elsa.” He called the dog’s attention, “she’s not coming, buddy.” The dog whined a couple of times and then gave up, going back to sleep on the couch.

“I should take him to the mountain next weekend.”

“About that…” Anna said, finally getting to the point of her visit. “How’s Elsa? Did you see her yesterday?”

“She’s okay,” he said with a small smile. “I took my parents to the mountain and Kai explained everything to her. She’s still a little hurt at him for making her worry, but she was finally able to explain her fears to my parents.”

“Did she tell them everything?” She hesitated, not knowing if Elsa had come clean about that part of her past.

“Yes.” Kristoff offered Anna something to drink and continued, “they reacted the way I’ve always imagined they would.”

“They don’t blame her.”

“Of course not. Just like you and me, they let her know she was just a child trying to protect herself.”

“What about the petition? Will she have to face a jury?” Anna was really concerned about it, and she was willing to fight her parents-in-law in order to help Elsa.

“Turns out that was the only copy. No one outside the family read the petition. Kai ended up tearing it into pieces.”

Anna let a sigh of relief escape her lips. The idea of talking in a courtroom was nerve-wracking even for herself, she imagined how stressful it could be for someone like Elsa. “So, she’s okay?”

“She’ll need a few days to tame her mind and control the unpleasant memories. But she’s okay, yes.”

“Are you sure?”

The concern in Anna’s voice made him smile. For her, everything about Elsa was new, and Kristoff couldn’t blame her for worrying. “I’m sure.”

“And what about… Never mind.”

The way she kept fidgeting let Kristoff know her question was in fact important for her. “What is it, Anna?”

“Did my parents have anything to do with the petition?” She didn’t want to ask the question. She knew Kristoff was still having a hard time accepting her parents as Elsa’s biological ones.

“I asked Kai after we left Elsa’s place. He said they’ve met your parents a couple times, but opening Elsa’s case was his idea entirely.” He was still unsure how he felt about his parents meeting the Arendelles behind Elsa’s back, but he guessed it made sense. After all, they were the main reason Elsa had ended up in the hands of someone like Weselton. Kristoff could see his father taking the trouble to see if they were worth Elsa’s tears.

Even if he hadn’t forgiven Anna’s parents, Kristoff guessed they were actually good people. Kai wouldn’t have met them more than once if that hadn’t been the case.

“I need to talk with mum and dad. I can’t believe they’ve been meeting with your parents and they didn't care to tell me.”

He understood his girlfriend's discontent, he had felt the same way when he found out the previous day. “I think you should.”

“Would you like to be there when I do?" Deep down she hoped for him to accept. She missed the days Kristoff would visit her in her parents' home. "I could use your company.”

“Anna…" He didn't like to disappoint her, but he wanted to avoid a confrontation. He couldn't face Agdar and Idunn since he still blamed them for Elsa's miserable life. "You know how I feel about your parents.”

"Let me know if you change your mind...” It pained her to be in the middle of the chaos. But there wasn’t much she could do when her heart understood both sides.

Marshall sighed for a third time, as he tried to find the courage to knock on Elsa's door. He had been waiting for her in the slope for an hour before he accepted she was not going to show up. And for some reason, instead of going back to his place, he found himself standing in front of her door.

He had no real reason for his visit. Elsa could simply had been busy. But she had never stood him up in the past, and the few times she hadn’t been able to meet him, she had called in advance.

Part of him wanted to turn around and simply accept the fact she probably had better things to do than spending time with him. Still, his curiosity to see if she was all right was bigger and he decided to knock.

Straightening his back, he waited for the door to open. And, to his relief, it only took a few seconds for Elsa to greet him.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, pleased to see there was nothing to worry about.

“Marshmallow? What are you doing here?” The mountaineer usually worked on weekdays, and it was strange for him to spontaneously visit after work.

“Just stopping by,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck. “I wanted to see if you were okay…”

Elsa looked at him puzzled. She had no idea what reason he could have to worry about her, unless her brother had called the guy and bothered him. If that were the case, kristoff was not going to hear the end of it. “Did Kristoff call you?”

“What? No. I-”

“Because if he did-” Elsa interrupted.

Trying to get his point across before she jumped to any other strange conclusion, Marshall explained in a hurry, “you didn't show up at the slope like we agreed, and I worried.”

“What?”

"You-" Elsa’s confused expression made him think about the possibility he had been mistaken. Hadn't he asked Elsa to meet him like he had intended? Not wanting to make a fool out of himself, he said, "It doesn't matter. I should've just called."

Elsa grabbed his arm before he could turn around and leave. "Wait, Marshmallow, what are you talking about?"

"On Thursday, when I called you," he began to say, as he scratched his beard - a nervous tic she had seen him do many times before. "I told you I was free today, and you said you'd meet me at the slope."

"Oh?… oh!" Everything that happened had made Elsa forget about her plan with Marshall. "I completely forgot."

"It doesn't matter. There wasn't much to do there anyway. Most of the snow is melted."

Elsa could see he was trying to pretend it wasn't important. But she knew he had probably been waiting for her. "I really am sorry, Marshall. Truth is I had a hard weekend."

“Everything okay?”

“I’ve been better.” There was no way she could explain to him her problems, so she left it at that. “I wish I had remembered about our plan. It would have been a good distraction.”

"Would you like to come to my place?” he offered. “We could eat something. If you want…"

Elsa wondered if it was a good idea. She felt guilty for the little time she had been dedicating to her studies, and she had finally found the will to sit and work in her assignments just before his visit. On the other hand, she could really use some time away from her worries.

Before she got the chance to answer, however, Marshmallow said, "the cats miss you."

Smiling at his ridiculous attempt to convince her, she asked, "Do they?"

"Yes. Well…" He cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. He wanted to punch himself for the moronic reason he had come up with. "I think they do. And maybe they can be a good distraction from whatever is bothering you."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes." Smiling after days of sadness felt nice. She had to be thankful Marshall was considerate enough to invite her right after she had stood him up. "Maybe you're right, I could use some company. And I've missed the cats too."

Marshall smiled too, pleased to notice she wasn’t really talking about the cats.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I apologise in advance for any mistakes. I’ve been writing the whole day, and I can’t identify mistakes at this point.

Big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review and share this story. You’re all amazing!

Tagging: @swimmingnewsie @melody-fox, @kristoffxannafanatic, @kristannafictionals, @neptrabbit, @skneez, @ellacarter13, @wondering-in-life, @who-i-am-8, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @815-allisnotlost, @khartx, @joannevixxon, @betweenthedreams, @lilrann, @burbobah, @rileysfs, @zutonium, @earlvessalius, @blood-jewel, @disneydreamer8901, @the-sky-is-awake, @disneyfan103, @the-magic-one-is-you, @anamaria8garcia, @welovefrozenfanfiction, @bigfrozenfan-archive, @bigfrozenfan, @frozen-snips @deisymendoza @zackhaikal123 @cornstarch @roostercrowedatmidnight @wandering-bard-from-the-id, @showurselfelsa @fuzzyelsalikeiduna @when-dawn-arrives @drafteedragon @snowycrocus @tare8chan @localarendellian @wabitham @roostercrowedatmidnight @aries1708 @tare8chan, @just-your-local-history-nerd, @dontrunintofirexoxo @daphmckinnon @poketin @bruni-is-love @luna-and-mars, @anotherpersondrawing @lovelucywilde

Wish you guys the best. Stay safe!

#frozen #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #frozen modern AU #modern AU #elsa #anna #kristoff #kristoff & elsa BrOTP #kristanna #frohana #gerda #kai #agnaar #iduna #ice bros #sosken #søsken

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emma-nation · 4 years

Text

Within You - Bloodbound AU - Chapter 6

Summary: One year after defeating Gaius, the gang has finally found peace… Until a tragic incident awakens the ultimate and most dangerous threat they ever faced.

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

Notes:

- Sequel to the fics For You, In The Daylight and Without You. You can read all of them here.

- Sorry, I couldn't resist using the garden plot 😍

- In case anyone is wondering this is the song I picked for their wedding dance. I just thought it fits them really well.

Tag List: @supersphynxsworld, @lightning-fury, @spacecarrousel, @tigerbryn11, @gavryllo, @annabellewerecorgi, @whoinvitedalx, @sheyah, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists, @scaryqueenbee, @bigmemesplz, @la-guerra-69, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me, @morvengarde, @tephy24, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @voltos9, @scorpistraub, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @justejuste727, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices, @mrskamilxh, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @noodledragon22, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @ilovetaylor13m, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @allaboutchoices, @fal-carrington, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @trouble-with-the-curve

Kamilah

A couple of days had passed since the failure of the debut party. Amy couldn't be more distant and hurt, even if all the misfortunes of that night weren't Kamilah's fault directly.

When she arrived home from work that night, the girl was still on the couch wearing an oversized t-shirt and watching a TV show. Empty ice cream containers and Cheetos packages were lying on the coffee table. An antique and rare coffee table Kamilah bought decades ago in an auction. That was a major red flag that she needed to do something urgently to fix the situation her wife.

After a quick shower, Kamilah went to the kitchen and prepared dinner. Mac n' Cheese. With all the food in the world, Amy seemed to enjoy that above anything. Not even the fanciest restaurants she visited could change her mind. Respecting that, Kamilah prepared a more refined version of that dish.

Amy was quite surprised to see her in the kitchen.

"You're cooking," she pointed. "Aren't we ordering?"

"Not tonight," Kamilah told.

The girl sat at one of the counters to watch her add the final touches to the dish.

"Mac n' Cheese?! You find it distasteful."

"But you love it, don't you? I'm learning from your tastes I guess."

Amy silenced and look at her in disbelief.

"Wow, we have been ordering for weeks. We never have time to cook something nice. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Absolutely, Amy. I was just thinking, we have all the time in the world. We should make the best of it. That's why we need to start changing some habits."

"Like what?" Amy asked.

"Let me see," Kamilah took her cell phone from her pocket and handed to her wife. "This is my schedule from now. I'm not working over 8 hours a day or traveling so often. I need to spend more time with you."

A smile finally lighted up Amy's pretty face. Her green eyes sparkled with joy.

"I... I'd like that."

"And so do I," Kamilah placed a kiss on her lips. "There's something else."

"What is it?"

"I'll show you tomorrow."

As she predicted, Amy was curious for the rest of the night, trying to guess what other change Kamilah could be planning for their lives.

"Are we... buying a boat?" She attempted a guess.

"No," Kamilah furrowed her brows confused. "Why? Would you like that?"

"I don't know, I'm just guessing."

She turned off the lamps, but she still could sense her wife awake and intrigued, even in the dark.

"Are you finally letting me adopt a cat?" Amy grinned. She had been begging for that in months. Kamilah always postponed with the excuse they spent too much time away from home.

"Uh... no," Kamilah sighed. "But I'll think about that too. I promise."

She kept it a surprise until lunch time, when she texted Amy requesting her presence at their house in Hamptons.

"Meet you there," she added.

----------

Amy

Everything about Amy's debut party had gone terribly wrong. Especially the hangover, that felt way worse now she was a vampire, when she woke up in the morning. And also the flashbacks of her arguments with Kamilah.

"God, I should've waited until the Awakening Ball just like everyone else."

She still couldn't sit down and talk things out with her wife for the following couple days. Not until she was able to fully calm down and process her feelings. Maybe she acted too harsh. Kamilah always hated being away from home for too long. She made sure of calling all the time to check how she was doing. She'd also surprise her with gifts from all her trips. That realization made Amy suddenly feel extremely guilty.

"I'm a horrible wife," Amy lamented drowning herself in ice cream.

Kamilah was the one to raise the peace flag. She cooked them dinner. Her favorite meal. Her own version of it, at least. She always wondered how Mac n' Cheese could be Amy's all-time favorite dish. In the end, she apologized and promised she'd be spend less time working and traveling, dedicating herself more to their marriage. That was enough to soften Amy's heart, but Kamilah still had another surprise.

It was about lunch time when she texted her asking her to go to their Hamptons' house. Amy quickly grabbed her car and started driving, wondering what she could be planning.

"Okay," Amy said when she arrived, "I'm here but... what's the matter?"

"Follow me," Kamilah ordered. She walked to a green area they had outside the house, surrounded by trees but rather empty. "Isn't it a perfect place for a garden?"

Amy opened a huge grin. Kamilah always dreamed of having a garden on her own and now she was able to walk in the sun, she finally could.

"That's right! It has always been your dream."

"I was thinking we should dedicate more time doing things we love."

For a few minutes, she heard as her wife gladly explained her plans for the space. Then, she had something else to show her inside the house.

"Kamilah," Amy's eyes went wide in surprise. "You really bought... a piano?!"

"You said you've always wanted to learn," Kamilah sat down at the piano by her side. "I'd be more than glad to teach you."

"You never told me you could play!"

"Well, it has been a few centuries."

She started playing the first notes of the song they picked for the first dance as a married couple. The way her fingers moved graciously, hitting every note with perfection and her sweet low voice, singing along with the melody, made Amy's eyes fill with tears.

"That was not supposed to make you cry," Kamilah stopped.

"I know," Amy smiled and wiped off the tears from her face. "But it was just... wonderful."

"Enough for you to forgive me for the last few days?"

"Kamilah, I... I should be the one to apologize for the way I acted. It wasn't your fault."

“Amy, I’m truly sorry,” Kamilah sighed. “You died in my arms, I can't bear the thought of losing you again. This is why I want to protect you and make sure you’re safe all the time.”

“I understand,” Amy spoke. “But I’m no longer frail and vulnerable as before, you know. I need to learn from my new powers and instincts.”

“I won’t lie to you, Amy. Being a vampire can be amazing, but it also can be a disgrace. It can change and destroy you. It can turn you into your worst self. I don’t want you to go through the same experiences I did.”

“I won’t, trust me. Now regarding the darkness…”

Amy finally revealed the two occasions where she saw a dark version of herself, capable of killing her own wife.

“I told Lysimachus and we both believe they’re unreal and could be produced by…”

“The First Vampire,” Kamilah completed.

Amy had tears in her eyes again when she finished her story.

“I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?”

"Of course," Kamilah pulled her closer to her body, embracing her tightly. "Whatever that bitch is up to, we'll fight together."

With her face buried on Kamilah's shoulder, Amy let out a muffled laugh.

"What?"

"You said 'bitch'."

"Yes," Kamilah laughed too, caressing her hair, "I did."

----------

Lysimachus

After waking up in the morning after the party, Lysimachus locked himself alone inside his apartment, ashamed of his own actions. Not only he got very drunk, but he ended up in bed with two women, one of them being Priya.

He'd check his answering machine and his messages at every thirty minutes, waiting for an answer from Ivy. Or a text from Katherine. But there was nothing.

Loneliness had never been a problem for him, but he truly desired to have someone who he could share his theories and suspicions.

"Hey," Adrian said as he entered the office. "I was starting to wonder what the hell you were. I barely saw you at the party."

"Oh well," Lysimachus sighed, "let's not talk about the party."

"So why are you here for?"

"I've been training with Amy and she has shared some of her latest visions with me. Together with the stuff I heard from Balthazar... I think the First may be back."

"What?" Adrian sat in front of him, reading carefully all his notes. "When the sap of the tree rests in the blessed chalice... the First shall walk again... Oh my god."

"I tried to make sense of these words but..." Lysimachus told, "nothing comes to my mind."

"What if the 'blessed chalice' is actually Amy, this generation's Bloodkeeper, and the 'sap of the tree' is any vampire's blood? Kamilah's blood when she Turned her?"

"Makes sense. But did we ever find her tomb?"

"I had some clues," Adrian told. "With the help of Serafine, I came to the conclusion she was there all along, inside the tree."

"And assuming she's free, where she could be right now?" Lysimachus wondered. "I mean, she spent over two millennia inside that damn tree. It's not like she'd know how to catch a plane or even speak our language!"

"We need to pay attention to all vampires, all over the world."

"How do we do that?"

They called the most appropriate person who could help them with that task, Lily Spencer. Most of the vampires from all over the world were part of the Fangbook, her social network. Including from Europe and the Five from Japan.

"Lily, send them a warning," Adrian ordered. "Any unknown vampires sightings must be reported to us. We need to be aware."

Then, he went to his desk to make a call.

"According to my friend Elias, no one has been seen around Mydea since we destroyed the Order's compound. Only my researchers when they extracted those samples."

"Guys..." Lily was pensive for a second. "If she has this connection with Amy, her first impulse would be to come to find her, right? What if she's already headed here somehow?"

"We have to pay attention. Any new vampires in New York must be carefully studied by The Council."

Lysimachus quickly had two people in mind. Rheya, Kamilah's new employee, and Nadine, the female vampire he slept with. He'd be investigating them by himself before taking extreme measures.

He set a dinner with Rheya first, with the excuse he'd like to interview her before the voting process with The Council. She showed up just in time, wearing a business suit. That woman was extremely gorgeous. She radiated confidence and kindness. He wasn't able to notice that so well at the party.

"How were you Turned?" Was his first question.

"I lived with my husband and daughter at a small village in Greece," she told. "A king was willing to take possession of our lands. Most of our people got slaughtered, including my family. Gaius Augustine found me and Turned me."

Rheya wouldn't break eye contact for a single moment, or exhibit any signs that suggested she could be lying.

"Gaius... what did you think of him?"

"A real maniac. I deeply despise that man for not letting me join my family in death. Only to use my pain to turn me into my worst self, but... when I noticed what I was getting into, I resisted. I escaped."

She couldn't help letting her emotions show telling this last part of her story.

"And then you spent centuries in Europe, until the Order caught you?"

"Exactly. I was tortured, humiliated and..." she broke down in tears. Lysimachus sighed, feeling bad for submitting that poor woman to those questions.

He apologized and offered her a tour around New York. She was mesmerized by the buildings and attractions the city had to offer.

"The Phantom Of The Opera," Rheya said, reading a flyer about the current attractions playing at Broadway.

"Are you a fan?" Lysimachus asked.

"I find it amusing and strangely familiar. A mysterious creature, living in the shadows, who mentors a young artist he becomes fascinated with."

"Fascinated? The man develops an obsession."

"That's a way to see it. Maybe he believed they could've accomplish something greater together. A real masterpiece."

"A real tragedy, you mean."

Rheya stared at him serious for a second. That very same look that brought him chills at the party. Then, she grinned playfully.

"Hey," she patted him on the shoulder. "I was just toying with you, you're always so tense. He sorta reminds me of Gaius himself, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Lysimachus relaxed and smiled too, "the obsession he had with my sister. It was very similar."

They spent the next hour joking and chatting about their favorite books and movies. Nothing about Rheya indicated danger.

There was only one option. Priya's friend.

----------

Kamilah

They had barely started to enjoy their timing together when Kamilah had to stop and answer her cell phone that was ringing insistently, even thought she told at the company she didn't want to be contacted. For her surprise, it was Amy's mother. She was headed to New York to meet them.

With everything that was happening recently, Kamilah had forgotten about that one detail. The detail Mrs. Parker was familiar with her nature.

"What?!" Amy asked when she told. "How does she know?! I mean, I never told her anything!"

"I don't know," Kamilah was focused on the road back home. "Didn't you let any details slip?"

"No, I'm pretty sure. She'd be deadly worried if I told. You know how paranoid and overprotective my parents can be."

Kamilah was pensive for a moment. She remembered the papers Serafine gave her. The Bloodkeeper abilities could be passed from mothers to their daughters. Now it all started to make sense. Now she knew why Mrs. Parker hated her from the beginning.

"It explains a lot of things," Amy said. "When I was a child she had those moments were she'd become distant. Sometimes she'd spend hours locked in the bedroom."

"I'm surprised how she allowed this marriage to happen. I mean, she probably saw... things about me. Things I've done in the past."

Amy cracked into laughs.

"Hey, this isn't funny!" Kamilah frowned, quickly blushing and trying to hide an embarrassed smile. "Okay, maybe it is. But not in a good way."

They arrived shortly after Mrs. Parker. Kamilah invited her to the penthouse and prepared some tea. That conversation promised to be intense. In the living room, Amy was sitting on the couch in front of her mother, showing some discomfort.

"So Mrs. Parker," Kamilah decided to break the tension, "what brings you here?"

"Amy hasn't been really answering my calls or properly replying my texts," the woman accepted the cup of tea Kamilah offered. "I came here to check how she's doing."

"I'm sorry," Amy said. "I just have a lot going on right now. There's my job at the company and I've been focused on... my training."

"You're a vampire now."

"Y-Yes. How do you feel about it?"

Kamilah decided to leave mother and daughter alone. That conversation should be private between them. She locked herself in her home office, remembering her own mother. She wondered how she'd feel about the path both of her children followed in life. Would she ever forgive them for everything they had done? For what they had became?

One thing she was sure, her mother would have loved Amy. No one could dislike that girl. She had something magical in her personality and in that bright smile. She was able to gain the affection of everyone she met.

"Kamilah?" Mrs. Parker knocked at her door some time later. Her eyes suggested the conversation with Amy was full of emotions. "Can we talk for a moment?"

"Sure," Kamilah pointed at the chair in front of her desk. The woman sat down and sighed, thinking of her words.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for saving my daughter's life. Even though you had to Turn her."

"I... I would give my life to protect her. I apologize for not noticing earlier she was in trouble. Trust me, Turning her was the last of my options."

"I know."

There was an awkward moment of silence. Looking into Amy's mother eyes, Kamilah wasn't sure of her perceptions about her anymore. The fact she had access to her entire past made her feel very vulnerable.

"So, you're a Bloodkeeper," she spoke. "Like Amy."

"I wasn't familiar with the term until now," Mrs. Parker told. "But yes, I've had these visions since early and so did my daughter. This is why I was concerned for her safety."

"Especially when she got involved with me."

"Exactly."

Kamilah closed her eyes, remembering Amy's mother reaction since the very first moment they met. She had all the reasons in the world to fear her, to feel disgusted and wish for a different future for her daughter.

"I'm not proud of who I used to be, or the things I've done in the past. However, I can't change it. Everyday I have to face the guilt. I hope you know, Mrs. Parker, I'm an entirely different person now. And Amy did help me. She makes me want to be better everyday."

The corners of the woman's mouth curled up in a small smile. She placed her hand on Kamilah's in reassurance.

"I can't say I accept it, but I'm not judging you. Not anymore. I can see that. I can see how Amy has grown with you, Kamilah. I can see how happy you make her. This is why I'm willing to give you a chance."

"I appreciate that."

----------

Amy

"How do you feel about it?"

That was probably the hardest question Amy had to ask her mom. She never had a good relationship with her. Since she was little, Mrs. Parker was a distant and closed parent. Sometimes she felt unloved, rejected by the woman who brought her to life.

The conflicts between them intensified when Amy became a teenager. Her mother was excessively protective and mistrusted her actions. One of the reasons why she wanted to leave their small town and explore the world. She wanted to escape the suffocating environment of her home. And she wanted to prove her wrong. She wanted Mrs. Parker to know she was capable of living on her own, doing what she loved.

"I can't say I'm happy," her mother said. "But otherwise, you'd be dead. I couldn't lose you, Amy. You're the most important thing in my life."

A small spark of anger appeared in Amy's heart. Somehow she felt betrayed. If she had been told about the visions, about what they were since early, she'd be prepared. She'd be stronger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, grinding her teeth. "Y-You always knew it! You had visions and you hid it from me. Instead, you... you pushed me away. You made me feel unloved. How could you???"

At this point, she was already standing up with tears in her eyes and clenched fists.

"Amy..." her mother grabbed her shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes. "I wanted to protect you. When I noticed you were faded to experience those visions too, I... I was scared for you."

"What about dad? Does he know?"

"Yes, he does. For years he supported me, helping me to find all kinds of treatments, medication, therapy... Needless to say it was useless."

Amy stopped for a moment, trying to process what she was hearing. Most of her life, her father was all she had. During her mother's crisis moments he'd do his best to comfort her and keep her distracted. He'd assure her that her mom was experiencing a strong headache or stress due to work. He was also a liar.

She let out a small ironic laugh.

"Great," Amy shook her head in denial. "My whole life is a lie."

"It doesn't have to be," Mrs. Parker grabbed both of her hands, "not anymore."

In silence, she heard her mother's stories about her dreams and visions. It all started with a cave and a tree, the mysterious woman and her two soldiers. Long before Amy moved to New York, Mrs. Parker already knew Adrian Raines and Kamilah Sayeed, without even knowing her daughter would accidentally become so close to them.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's fate," she finished. "If all of this has a bigger purpose. For me and especially for you."

"I wonder about that too," Amy agreed. "Especially now my abilities have... expanded."

After telling her about The First Vampire, she closed her eyes and she could hear her mother's thoughts. She was hurt, traumatized by those visions. She carried an immense guilty and regret for keeping them a secret, wondering how different Amy's life could have been. There was only one thing she desired in that moment... forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, Amy. For all I've done. I love you more than anything in this world and I only intended to keep you safe. And I'm sorry for being so intolerant about your relationship with Kamilah in the beginning. Once I got to know her, I figured out she's not the monster from my visions."

"That's okay, mom. I'd have probably done the same in your place. Most of the time I kept my visions a secret too. I understand why you did it."

Amy embraced her mother tightly, catching a glimpse of a memory from when she was pregnant with her. How she chose her name, meaning 'beloved' and how she'd sing for her. A tear ran down across her cheek. For the first time, she felt so connected to her mom as most of the daughters were.

"Is it..." her mother started sobbing too, "is too late to make it up for our lost time?"

"Not at all, mom," Amy smiled.

"Good, I'm going home and I'll be sending you some journals and drawings I kept from my visions."

"Thank you so much, it'll be a great help."

After Mrs. Parker left, all Amy wished for was to cuddle with her wife in bed. Kamilah patiently listened while she told her everything about her conversation with her mom.

"I feel better know, you know?" She said. "All my life I felt so unloved and rejected, but now I know I was wrong. She loves me, Kamilah. And I guess she's starting to like you too."

"Really?" Kamilah sighed. "Yet, I don't feel any less embarrassed to know your mother can look at me and access my memories. It's still intimidating."

She couldn't help but laughing again. Her wife eventually stop fighting against her own smile too.

"I feel like a weight has been removed from my chest now I've forgiven her and I was thinking..." she paused, raising her head and facing Kamilah. "I'd like to start a family on my own someday."

"Oh. Someday?"

"Soon?"

"Soon as...?"

"As in the next couple years? Like when we solve things regarding the First Vampire or when I'm completely adjusted to my powers?"

Kamilah took a moment to respond. Then, she kissed her forehead and pulled her closer to her chest again.

"It think I'd love that," she finally said.

----------

Lysimachus

After solving things with her wife, Kamilah had finally decided to make it up to her brother too. Amy had told her about the visions and hearing his version of the facts, she agreed with his suspicions.

"How do we find her?" She asked. "She could be anywhere."

"This is what I'm trying to figure out," he answered.

The meeting with Nadine was nothing but a disaster. She was just a young foreign vampire, lost and confused, who was being quite mentored by Priya, what wouldn't probably go well. There wasn't a single part of her that indicated she could be a vampire goddess. Lysimachus took her to the Shadow Den, Jax would probably provide her the guidance she needed.

Kamilah followed him to the warehouse he turned into a personal training center. It was time for another combat lesson with Amy.

"Kamilah," the girl smiled in excitement to see her, "you decided to join us?"

"Yes," she cracked her knuckles, "my twin brother's technique has some weak spots. You don't want to get them for yourself."

"Teach me your ways," Lysimachus mocked her, master."

They had just started training with daggers. He taught Amy some basic moves, but she would easily become bored and beg for more complex stunts.

"Okay then, Kamilah and I will be doing a little demonstration for you. Then, we can discuss together the moves you should learn."

"Hell yeah, that will be awesome!"

Amy pulled a chair and sat down to watch as Lysimachus and Kamilah positioned themselves for a small, harmless combat.

Lysimachus waited. He wouldn't strike first. He knew how Kamilah would easily deflect that blow and counter-attack.

"Well, brother," she teased, "afraid much?"

"No, just being honorable. Ladies first."

They continued to move in circle, facing each other. His sister's gaze was deep and intimidating. Though he was a psychic and a skilled fighter, he could never predict what she was up to.

Lysimachus made the mention of a move, what triggered a reaction from Kamilah. As she placed herself in a defense position, he drew his daggers and attempted to strike.

"Too close," she smirked, ducking and sweeping his legs out from under him.

As he fell on his back, Kamilah's daggers were already pointed to his neck.

"Witchcraft," Lysimachus complained. "It's the only explanation for this abnormal speed of yours."

"Don't be a cry baby," Kamilah continued to brag. "It's called practice and discipline."

None of them saw Amy coming from behind, locking her arm around Kamilah's neck. Though she was caught by surprise, she had no difficult to free herself.

"Nice one, Amy," she complimented. "You must analyze and take advantage of the situation. I'm proud, but now... disarm me."

Amy tried all the techniques she learned from both Kamilah and Lysimachus, but her wife wasn't make it easy for her.

"Get creative," Kamilah suggested. "Just like you've done. Sometimes technique isn't enough."

The girl was focused on Kamilah's hands. On her daggers. Dodging her attacks but with no clue how to disarm her.

Kamilah moved forward to strike one more time, but this time her daggers flew away from her hands, hitting the nearest wall.

"W-What... How did you..."

"I didn't do anything," Amy said.

"Of course you..."

Lysimachus entered the fight, lunging forward for a surprise attack at his sister in law and test her reflexes. He couldn't get any close. Intense balls of energy that came out from her hands, sent him and Kamilah flying across the warehouse.

"Oh my god," Amy covered her mouth in shock. "Are you guys okay? What have I done?!'

Stunned, Lysimachus and his sister exchanged a concerned look. Never in his 2065 years of life he had seen a vampire with those powers. Especially a newly-Turned.

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound fanfiction #within you

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1000roughdrafts · 4 years

Text

Family Secrets: Chapter Eleven

This Bed is for Sleeping

Summary: You spend the evening talking and drinking with Dean, which leads to a flirty night. Despite wanting more than a steamy kiss, Dean doesn’t let you break the promise you made yourself when sober.

A/N: Sorry about errors in previous posts. this one should be fine though :) This is my favorite chapter in this series, so let me know if you like it:)

Warnings: intense fluff, things heat up between Dean and reader, kissing,

W/C: 1.6k

Masterlist/schedule

Previous Chapter

The room glows by the moonlight coming in from the window, and the flicker of the candle that sits on the coffee table. Surrounding the table and around your feet are empty beer bottles. An icy breeze flows in from behind the curtains, leaving you twisted in deciding whether to be upset that you left it open, or thankful that it gives you something to focus on rather than being alone with Dean.

Oh, how times have changed, you accidentally think a little too loudly.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Dean shatters the silence and stands from the couch. “You want another?” He motions to the empty bottle you’ve been holding in your hands for the majority of the conversation.

“Yes, please.” You stretch out your arms in an attempt to hide your concentration of his movements. He lightly scratches the tip of his nose as he unavoidably brushes against your leg while walking between you and the coffee table. The sensations sends a jolt to your spine, eliciting a response that comes out as a quick shiver.

Without shame now, you continue to admire his muscular physique. The denim of his jeans hugs his thighs, but leave his calves to breathe. His shirt droops down as he leans into the small fridge, exposing the celestial skin underneath. With a beer in each hand he languidly turns around with a drunken smile when he sees you’d been watching him. This time, his provocative and magnetic eyes shatter the silence.

Sitting closer to you now, he rests his forearm on your thigh. The chilly bottom of the beer sends goosebumps down your leg when his eyes are on yours like they are. His fingertips trace along your leg as they trail back to his side.

You move your tongue around in your mouth and lick your bottom lip. “I can’t tell if it’s the beer, the last five months, or you that’s making my head spin,” you say, your voice still cracking from the dryness in your throat and mouth. You tilt your head to face him, and amend the cord between his eyes and yours.

He lets his voice be delicate, “is all three an option?”

You hang your head with a smile and a small giggle, “I’m starting to think that’s the only option.”

With his body leaning forward, he turns his head to look at you with crinkled eyes and the start of a smile, “yeah.”

He keeps his attention focused on you through the silence, indulging himself in the treat that is you. Taking in every detail from the way your eyes glimmer from the flame, to how the moon illuminates parts of your face while keeping the other parts in the shadows.

He folds his tongue in his mouth before lightly biting down on it, “well, if you’re in control of this brain train, we need to set some ground rules. No more drinking and driving,” he reaches into your lap in a failed attempt to take the bottle from your hands, “you’re letting a few,” he softly bites his lower lip as you grip tightly onto your beer, “uh, personal thoughts loose.”

You try to conceal your laughter by putting the drink to your mouth, but you can’t hide your sly smile. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” He nudges your side, laughing authentically before you dare let yours out. “Oh, that’s real classy, Y/N.”

“Hey, I heard you thinking the same things the other night,” you smirk. “And that was even before we remembered our past.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, holding out the word while searching for an excuse, “that was just... shut up,” he hums with a boyish grin.

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, mouth opens and you try to suppress your smile, “I was just bluffing. I can’t believe I was right.”

“Yeah, remind me not to play poker with you,” he laughs weakly, taking a sip of his drink, “like, ever.”

“Well, but now I’m curious,” you pull your leg onto the couch, folding it between you and Dean and rotating your body to face him. “What were you thinking?”

“About you?” He sweeps his leg, brushing off nothing but finding himself needing something to do with his hands. “Oh, it was nothing. Just, you know, wondering if you were as feisty in bed as you were when we first met,” he says in a self deprecating laugh. “The second time, I guess.”

You inch closer, moving your leg onto him as you do. “Is the Dean Winchester being bashful? Who’d have known?” you tease.

He looks up at you with a pink tint on his cheeks. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, Y/N,” the smile fading into a yearning expression with merciful green eyes. “But this doesn’t exactly feel like taking things slow.”

You put a foot onto the ground and pivot around, positioning one leg on either side of him. “Maybe I changed my mind,” you whisper sultrily with your hands on his shoulders, bringing them down his chest as you drop comfortably and slowly onto his lap.

He shakes his head, wrapping his hands around your wrists, “sweetheart, you know there’s nothing I want more, but,” he slides his hands down your arms and lets them fall off of your elbows and onto your waist, “I made sober Y/N a promise that I’m not about to let drunk Y/N seduce me into breaking.” His head moves with his eyes as they study the image of you in his lap.

You brush your lips next to his ear, sending a tingle down his spine before you can even get out the words, “sober me won’t be mad about a silly kiss, Dean.”

His eyes close as he leans his head against the couch. You bring your lips under his ear, only allowing the warmth of your breath to do the work as you enjoy the slight flinching of his hips under you. “I mean, we’ve only been waiting for this moment for damn near twenty years,” you say in a slow, and somewhat sarcastic tone against his neck before kissing his skin.

“With that logic,” he says in a heavy breath. “What’s the harm in waiting another night, huh?”

You deepen your kiss, suctioning your lips against his neck, taking your time before moving on to an untouched piece of skin to tease. He wraps his hands around your head, pulling it back and takes a handful of your hair, brushing it away. Putting his lips against your neck, he kisses you a little deeper, more passionately, than you’d done for him. A subdued moan escapes you and you feel his lips curl on your skin.

“If you’re gonna be a tease,” he says, “you gotta do it right.”

His lips travel from your neck and onto your cheek before meeting up with your slightly parted lips. His calloused hands move through your hair. He shuffles the two of you forward, just enough to pull you closer to him and wrap your legs around his hips. He lifts the both of you with ease, and waddles the few short steps to the perfectly made bed, gently dropping you onto your back. Propping himself above you, he takes the moment to ogle you, looking so natural and flawless in front of him.

You arch your back as you scoot further down just a bit, catching eyes with him, “what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he smiles.

You wrap your hands around his face, pulling him into a kiss. One of his elbows buckles at the suddenness, dropping his chest onto yours. You move your hand down his side and rest it on his hip, keeping the other wrapped around his jaw, fingers in his hair.

Slipping your leg between his, you tenderly push against him. He breaks the kiss to softly moan in your ear. “Okay, that’s it... for tonight,” he suppresses another moan and swallows, “and just for night, this bed is for sleeping.”

He kisses your cheek and lays beside you, wrapping an arm over your chest. No matter how badly you want to say ‘screw it’ and go against your own wishes, you keep to the rule and snuggle up to him, falling asleep when you do.

You’re not sure which woke you first, the sun as it spilled into the room or the banging in your head from a well deserved hangover. You lay on your side with his arm wrapped around you, hand curled up next to your stomach. You don’t need to remember the night to know who it is, but to say you remember more than bits and pieces wouldn’t be the full truth.

Without moving your body, you turn your hand to peak at him out of the corner of your eye. His lips and face droop peacefully in his slumber.

“Dean,” you say quietly. With no response, you wiggle yourself out from under him to sit on your knees facing him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you shake him gently, “Dean, wake up.”

He mumbles, eyelids fluttering as they open and adjust to the light. When he sees your face, he puts on a sleepy smile, “mornin’.” He sits up and stretches out his arms, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I think,” you say, looking to the side and around the room at all of the bottles. Looking back at him, you point to the bed, “did we...?”

He matches your gaze at the state of the room, then shakes his head, “no. Believe me,” he chuckles, “I wanted to, but uh, no it wouldn’t have been right.”

You raise an eyebrow, though you have no reason to suspect him of lying to you. “You’re sure? One hundred percent sure?”

He laughs, “oh yeah.” He wraps his hands around you, pulling you into his chest. “I’d make sure you remembered it,” he says with a wink.

After getting your balance, the two of you meet Sam outside. Dean has a hand to his forehead, and holds up a finger as Sam starts to speak, “no talking. Just coffee.”

Next Chapter

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whoever-iwant-tobe · 4 years

Text

It wasn’t meant to be a long game (part 13)

David x Natalie: fiction. Attempt #2 at this chapter since one was lost to a chrome crash (I don’t want to talk about it)

No warnings for this chapter, just some miscommunications and light fluff

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You fought last night. It was yet another halloween week party. You were having a blast and drank a lot more than you realized. You didn’t notice at first, but David was almost nowhere in sight for most of the night at most of the parties you hit up. You were throwing back drinks with Zane and everyone and you just didn’t notice. What you did remember was snapping at him at the last stop of the night, something about letting you dance with Zane and you just remember feeling justified about it. Like he was being ridiculous and you were the rational one. He raised his voice for just a moment, then stormed off. When he came back, he acted like he was trying to have fun, but he had a drink in his hand like he needed it. David didn’t drink often, and even this night, he didn’t drink much.

When you got home, you stumbled onto the couch and you figure David helped you change or you figured it out yourself, because when you woke up, you were in his shorts and a hoodie and curled up on the side of his bed. But David was nowhere to be found. To be fair, you didn’t wake up on this particular day until well after noon, but it was still unusual for you to be asleep so much later than even David. You had a pit in your stomach though-- the pit that you get when you're pretty sure you did or said something you should regret, but can’t pinpoint what.

When you did get out of bed, you took the advil Dave had left on the desk for you, grabbed some orange juice, and started responding to emails. You figured he’d be home soon, but he didn’t come. Not for a while.

When he walked in the door around 9, he was with Carly and Zane and Jason. He greeted you like he would any other time his friends were around.

“Hey Nat,” he called.

“Hey. You get footage?” you asked. Act normal.

“Yeah, should be decent. We’re going to another Halloween party tonight. You wanna come?” he asked. That was a good sign, maybe everything is fine. He’s inviting you to go.

“I would, but I have a killer headache still. I don’t know if I can even stomach being around liquor right now” you answer, regretfully flopping your head back on the couch.

“That’s cool. Well we’re getting food and then will probably go.”

“Sounds good-- I can order it if everyone tells me what they want.” you offer.

“No it’s cool, I got it. I ordered your favorite too.” he said with a small smile. Another good sign. Maybe things weren’t as bad as you remembered.

You all ate, crowded on the big couch watching a playlist of David’s videos. He’d been rewatching them to get re-inspired. It was fun for you because you never watched his old stuff.

He gripped your shoulder before they all left, a subtle goodbye, and you were on your own again.

You kept working-- catching up from your late start in the day and then getting ahead for the next. You were supposed to fly to New York for David to do a bunch of press and you didn’t want to get behind with all the travel.

Even though you woke up so late, something about a hangover sucks the life out of you. You wanted to wait up for David to come home. You wanted to talk and have that reassurance that everything was fine between you two, but you got to the point where you couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tried and tried, but resolved to go take a nap. You didn’t want to sleep in your own room in case David just went to bed when he got home, but you didn’t want to be in his bed either in case others came in with him, so you dragged your laptop to the love sac in his bedroom. Then if you fell asleep and didn’t wake up on time, he wouldn’t be able to avoid you. You worked for a bit longer before you passed out, laptop open on your lap.

You woke up to the group chat dinging like mad. It was muted on your phone, but not on your computer. Something about Scott and Todd’s tour--they were probably drunk. You closed your laptop and grabbed your phone to check the time, then got on instagram just to check in one what everyone was up to. David looked bored at the party and so did Carly and Zane based on their stories. You were about to go back to sleep, when you accidentally opened your explore tab and saw a wall of this dark purple-toned picture. It was hard to make out, but everyone was tagging it as David and Liza. And it was from tonight. Like, now.

Your heart literally sank. You loved David. You trusted David. But you hated this. You waited for a text to come through from him. Like ‘Hey, bumped into Liza at this party. Just wanted to let you know’ or something, but nothing came through. It was all over your mentions now, The people who were still holding on to Diza were thrilled. The people who wanted you and David to be together were panicking, and you were just sad. You put your phone down, grabbed a pillow to cling on to, and let yourself get swallowed up by the lovesac as you drifted back to sleep under a weighted blanket. You just needed to get your mind off of everything.

You didn’t hear David come home. You also didn’t hear him check the living room for you, then your own room for you. You woke to your phone ringing in your lap and David switching on his bedroom lights, phone in hand.

“Shit. There you are!” he exclaimed, pressing a button on his phone, causing yours to stop ringing. “I didn’t know where you went!”

You pulled the blanket higher over your body and slung an arm to shade you from the bright light now filling the room. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep... I’ll go to my room.” You moved to get up, flustered now. Frustrated about what you saw online and still stressed about what happened in the argument you barely remembered from the night before.

“What? No. Stay here.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just gonna go..” he blocked your path to the door.

“Nat, what is going on?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” blocked again, heavy blanket wrapped around you.

“Why are you going to your room? Do you want me to come with? I’ve barely seen you all day.”

“No, you’re upset with me and I get it.. I’m just gonna..” you tried to walk around him, but he moved with you.

“Natalie, stop.” he placed both hands on your shoulders. He looked you in the eyes. Whatever he saw must have made him sense your stress level, because he pulled you to his chest in a bear hug.

You let out a sigh of relief/release/something and rested your head on his chest.

“Will you tell me what’s going on at least?” He asked you, speaking into the space above your head.

You stayed silent for a moment.

“Come on, Nat.” he waited.

“It’s probably better... after last night... then Liza...”

“Wait what??” he stepped back out of your arms to look you in the face again. “Nat, we bumped into Liza at a party, we talked for a few minutes, then we filmed a quick bit when we drove past her walking to her car. It was literally a coincidence.”

“Yeah but last night, we argued.. I don’t even remember..”

“It’s fine! People argue. People who love each other argue. It was not even a big deal. I swear.”

You pondered over his words for a moment, head still hung. “You sure??” you asked.

“Yes. Babe. Come to bed. I’m tired and I didn’t get great sleep last night and honestly I just wanna cuddle. We can talk more tomorrow if you want, but please come to bed.”

You walked into his arms and his hands found yours. You held them and leaned up to kiss him. “Okay.” and then you crawled into bed and waited while he brushed his teeth, stripped down to his boxers and a t shirt, and joined you in bed.

He snuggled you into him and you peppered tiny kisses from his chest to his neck until he pulled you closer, dragging one leg across his legs and pulling you so you were laying on his chest. He kissed your hair and breathed you in while you released a contented sigh. “I do love you, Dave” you told him.

“I love you too”

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Cross posted on AO3 as usual

#david x natalie #david dobrik #david dobrik smut #david dobrik fanfic #david dobrik fanfiction #vlogsquad fanfic #vlogsquad fanfiction #daviddobrik #datalie

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