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abouttofillhisshoes · 1 month

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Do you wanna dance? - Matty Healy

A/N: i couldn't help myself, these two deserve to be happy forever and ever xx

this is a part two to this request i did earlier, but can also be read separately!!

wc: 3k

content warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), cursing, typical MPIND banter, kissing, a touch suggestive?

May, 2009

“I’m so fucking boreddd, kill me now.” you drag your feet on the ground, letting yourself be pulled along by Matty, his hand tightly clasped against yours. He rolls his eyes, begging you to walk properly, and that you would find something to do soon.

“Carolines?” he suggests, pointing in the general direction of the old paper factory, it being maybe a 25 minutes walk from where you were currently at. You raise your eyebrows at him, a skeptical look on your face. “Really?” you ask, whining about how your feet hurt and you didn't want to walk any further.

“Pretty please, I promise I'll make it worth your while.” he lowers his voice, winking at you cheekily. A groan leaves your lips, and you shove him off to the side, taking a swig from a freshly opened bottle of cheap tesco wine.

“I’d do alot for you,” you burp, making Mattys face scrunch up in disgust “but i am not shagging you on a terrace, not a chance in fuck.” he laughs like music to your ears, a gross snort slipping out.

You suggest calling your other mates, inviting them for a few drinks on the balcony, just like old times. That small platform just off the main office held dear memories, good and bad. Matty immediately shakes his head, bringing your hand away from the phone in your pocket. “Just you and me, no one else.” He sounds different, you couldn't quite place it.

“Carry me.” you joke, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead. Imagine your surprise when you feel a firm hand press against your back, and another wrap around the back of your knees, hauling you up. Your hip hits the bare skin on Mattys chest, another ‘stylistic’ choice of his, only being covered in a thin, see through black shirt.

“Jesus, fuck, let me down!!” you scream, attempting to push him away.

All he does is giggle at your struggle, only pulling you closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“D’you think I'm too weak to carry you?” you huff, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m too heavy, you’ll proper hurt yourself-” he laughs again, almost in disbelief. “Oh, come off it, I'm pretty strong, you know!” you roll your eyes, shooting him a worried look. He nods, leaning in to give you what you think is another kiss.

Instead, he fucking licks across your face, making you squirm away at the odd feeling.

“Perv.” you spit, turning your head away from him. He nuzzles his face into your freshly curled hair, humming contentedly as he starts walking down the sidewalk. You notice him adjusting his hands a few times, trying to get a better grip, so you ask to be let down. He refuses, like he’s trying to prove something to someone. It was no use, he was going to see this through, apparently.

It was wet, the rain from a few hours prior making everything smell like damp concrete. It was barely sunset, the sky painted several shades of blue, purple and orange, clouds sparsely littering the sky. Trees were finally starting to green again, and the warm air kissed your skin, warning you of the hot summer to come. It was late May, breezy and comfortable, even if it was pissing it down most of the time, you didn't mind it, rarely getting sick anyway.

The back entrance was covered by stacks of cardboard, soggy and flimsy from the rain. Matty tries to set you down gracefully onto a rock nearby, miserably failing as when trips over his own feet, sending you both flying down onto the soft, grassy ground.

Laughing at the stumble, he kisses you while you're still under him, gripping your cheeks between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long, wet dirt sullying the back of your shirt, making you whine like a small child. He reluctantly rolls off you, offering a hand to help you stand. Wobbly on your very impractical heels, Matty takes a jab at your choice of footwear.

“Who wears heels to go walk around? You've got fucking ankles of steel or something, thats mad.” he laughs, gesturing at your red platforms, thin straps the only thing keeping them attached to your feet.

“They’re platforms.” you correct him “You’d know that, if you knew anything ever. Fuck you, you’re just jealous i’m taller now.” It was true, you towered slightly over him, even if only a few inches, it gave you a sense of power.

Twirling your hair around your fingers, you let Matty lead you up the stairs, hand firmly gripping your wrist. His nails were painted black to match, though they were significantly more chipped than yours, the nail polish peeling off in chunks.

Still, you found it endearing how he always wanted to use the things you did, whether it be makeup, clothes, even colors. What was yours was his, and what was his was yours, evident au cause de the blue top you were wearing. The stupid tourist shirt, his prized possession.

The wind had died down a bit by the time you reached the smashed glass door leading to the terrace. Ross had managed to fall through it one night, absolutely wrecked off half a bottle of tito’s, no mixer. The four of you spent hours afterwards trying to pick small shards of glass out of a blacked out Ross, utterly convinced he was dying of alcohol poisoning. Fucking drama queen.

Orange light floods the terrace, painting the worn down sofa in a warm hue. Matty smirks slightly as he plops down onto it, patting the space beside him, asking a silent question. You smile, the sight of him making your heart swell up with love. God, he looked beautiful, it was almost too much. Thicker chunks of his hair were now dyed blonde, streaks of pink peeking through. Impulse decision, though a good one, the bit of color really suited him.

“You got any?” he asks, tucking both his hands behind his head, spreading his legs, his shirt riding up slightly. A suggestion.

“What do you take me for?” you giggle, already pulling out your weed. He never brought his own, insisting that if you wanted to roll them yourself, you’d also buy it. His logic was deeply flawed, but honestly, you loved him too much to tell him.

Rolling the spliff, flashes of memories flip through your mind, you hear Hann’s voice.

‘Girls don't roll their own spliffs’ God, he was such a dickhead.

“Girls don’t roll their own spliffs.” you giggle, grinning at Matty as you lick it closed, admiring your work. George had given you a few tips, and you’d actually gotten better. Mattys angelic laugh fills your ears, bouncing off the concrete walls.

“Fuck yeah, I'm your girl.” he says proudly, brushing tangled curls out of his face, slightly more tan than usual, the sun having branded his fair skin. Your eyes roll of their own accord, and you nudge him with your elbow, muttering quietly.

“Shut up mate, honestly.” he lets out a dramatic gasp at your words, pressing a hand to his chest is faux shock.

“Do mates do this?” You jump as he snatches the spliff out of your hand, grabbing your face just like he did on the grass before, pressing a hot kiss right beside your mouth, just missing it. Biting back a moan, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, running across your own.

“Okay, fuck off now, thanks.” you smile, unable to stop yourself. Not when he looked at you with such joy, eyes glimmering in the warm light.

He hands the joint back to you, your hands brushing against each other. It felt loving, purposeful, real.

Grabbing the lighter from your right pocket, you run your fingers across the worn rhinestone, fondly remembering the day he’d made it for you.

The way he was reluctant at first, only giving in after you physically dragged him through the doors of the hobby shop, forcing him to pick out decorations. His concentrated expression as he tried to pick off the cheap stones, having to let you help him do it after numerous failed attempts. It was one of your favorite days with him, wishing you could relive it a thousand times over.

Laying back, you hold it in front of you, rotating it over the flame to get an even burn. The smell flooding your senses, you close your eyes, bringing the spliff to your lips. Inhaling deeply, you feel Matty shuffle next to you, shifting and making the sofa creak under him. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes shut as you feel the drug hit your system, a warm, weightless sensation enveloping you. It was when he moved for the third time that you snapped your eyes open, going to complain.

“Christ, will you stop moving around like tha-” your words get caught in your throat, dying out.

He wasn't in the spot next to you anymore. No, he was on the floor. On the floor, on one knee, holding a small, red velvet box in his right hand. Your breath hitches as you notice the expression on his face. Anxiety. You could speak, hell, you could barely fucking think. Matty was in front of you, kneeling, holding a white diamond that was shimmering in the light, like a goddamn dream.

You watch as he opens his mouth to speak several times, closing it before any sound comes out. His eyes fill with panic as you sit up, eyes wide in shock. He was proposing. Properly proposing, with a ring and everything, down on one knee. You’re convinced this is a dream, of a fucking hallucination, something more believable than what was actually happening in front os you.

“Marry me?” he forces out, hand slightly shaking as you look him up and down, mouth completely dry. You felt tears stream down your face. Obviously, with Matty not being able to read your mind, his eyes dart around your features, trying to gauge what your reaction meant.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you.” are the first words you say, hands coming up to shield your face. The panic only grew as he tries to speak, only things coming out being bits of words and ‘sorry’.

Shaking your head violently, you reach out your hand, presenting your ring finger. Tears well up in Mattys own eyes, dangerously close to rolling down his puffy cheeks.

“Yes, oh my god, I fucking love you so much.” you scream, bouncing off your spot on the sofa, lunging towards a very emotional Matty. You catch his lips in a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not daring to let go

“Really? You’ll marry me?” he says in genuine disbelief, his left hand gripping your lower back, pulling you close.

“Of course i’ll marry you Matty, christ.” he pushes you away, giddily slipping the silver ring onto your ring finger, planting a soft kiss to the metal.

“Fucking hell that is a boulder.” you look at the diamond in awe, the stone basically blinding you. He grins from ear to ear, grabbing the fabric of your top, kissing you softly, a gentle warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips make contact.

“Only the best for my wife.” giggles leave his lips, delirious and ecstatic, disbelief still evident in the way his eyes rake over you, settling on the ring. Pressing a hand to your cheeks, he thumbs the tears away, kissing all over your face. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest.

“Bit early, innit?” you comment, sucking in a deep breath, eyes glued to Mattys. You're both on your knees, concrete digging into the skin of your legs. It was cold, uncomfortable, but you truly couldn't care less.

“Never too early, Mrs. Healy” he smirks in that cheeky way of his, both hands settling onto your shoulder, rubbing small shapes into your skin. The moment doesn't feel real, nothing does. You hope to god that this isn't a dream, that that this was really happening.

“Can Hann be the flower girl?” your inability to be serious for five fucking seconds shines through, the both of you falling into each others arms, uncontrollably laughing. Mattys eyes crease as he giggles, the feel of his hands on your body is heavenly, l of his hands touching your skin makes you truly believe you've reached a higher plane of existence.

“Only if he wears the dress.”

“Deal.” you say, knowing well that getting Adam Hann into a dress would require months of begging, maybe even bribery. You would probably need to buy him a fucking house to get him to even consider it.

More laughter, more kissing, more planning a future neither of you had ever actually thought possible. A future with each other.

Matty fumbles around in his pockets, pulling out his Ipod, initials erratically scratched into the metal. You raise your eyebrows at him, asking a silent question of ‘what the fuck?’

“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, smirking at you as he swiftly stands up, extending his hand. This is so incredibly cliché, and you know that yourself, but you can't bring yourself to care.

His fingers press one earphone into your ear, before doing the same to his own. He smiles sweetly, expression softening. This was true, raw, unbridled love.

“Can I choose the song?” you ask, fingers trailing down Mattys jaw as he settles his hands onto your waist. Nodding, he hands you the Ipod, letting you select whatever you wanted.

“I love you so much, my darling girl.” he mumbled into your hair, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Stop being such a sap,” you laugh, quickly adding a “I love you too.” as to not offend him. As if he would be offended.

Suffragette City blared through the headphones, the music filling every corner of your being. Your hips swayed, and so did his, guiding you lightly with the hands gripping you tightly.

You didn't speak, letting Matty spin and twirl you around, breaking out into fits of laughter when you almost tripped over your ridiculous heels. Fuck, they were really a bad idea.

Stopping for a second, you reach down to unclasp your shoes, kicking them off without a second thought.

“Already taking your clothes off? We haven't even said our vows yet-” he teases, being met with a sharp look and a hand threaded into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“Don't ruin the moment, you wanker.” you mutter against his lips, licking into his mouth as you let him take back control of your movements.

You don't know how long you dance for, but by the time the two of you finally come up for air, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the tall buildings of the city.

Your life together flashes through your mind. That very first kiss. That night in The Sound. Ruby. The drugs. The lighter, smashed into little bits. Your fight with the guys. The night he had called you, shaking and crying, scared. The photos. The sight of him, down on one knee.

This was it. Everything that had happened; every mistake, every fight, every passionate kiss, every gasp of pleasure when skin met skin, every tear shed since that night at the bus stop had been leading up to this final moment.

You and Matty,

Matty and you

Forever.

Properly this time

The music faded, the sound of rainfall pattering loudly against the metal roof replaced it.

A Suffragette City, A Suffragette City

Quite all right

A Suffragette City

Too fine

A Suffragette City, ooh, A Suffragette City

Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City

Ah, Suffragette

Suffragette!

#i actually cried during this #its so sweet #no smut for once surprise surprise #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfiction #the 1975 smut

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walkingaftermidnight07 · 1 year

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Kit x Ty Balcony oneshot

ackkk im so bad at writing my little intros to these so i apologize in advance lol

did i wait until new year's to post a oneshot that was requested weeks ago? yes, yes i did. in my defense. im shit at remembering to write stuff. on the bright side, i'm actually pretty proud of this one so....yeah.

anyways, my lovely friend @tys-kitty requested this a couple of weeks ago and I loved the idea so I had to write it!!! i believe it was inspired by a post by @aro-ace-cat-lady but i dont have the original post. whoops.

anyways, this is a KitTy first kiss *and sort of love confession* on the Chiswick balcony.

word count is abt 2k :D

make sure to reblog if you enjoyed it to help get this out to more people thank you very much. I am sending virtual hugs and kisses to all who take the time to reblog :)

if you want any more KitTy content from me, i have a playlist linked here as well as two oneshots of the reunion scene from sobh which are linked here and here. I ALSO TAKE REQUESTS FOR BOTH ONESHOTS AND PLAYLISTS.

anywayssss enjoy :DDDD

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Sometimes Kit felt like Blackthorn Hall seemed to be closing in on him. The shadows felt like they were growing, wrapping around him. Suffocating him. Despite everything that Emma and Julian had done to fix it up, there was just something about it…

If Kit was being honest, he kind of hated it here. It gave him shivers and made him feel like he was being watched from all directions. He couldn’t tell if it was because of Blackthorn Hall’s history, or because of the fact that it used to be haunted by a ghost, or because there was something demonic about it, lurking in the shadows…

Or maybe it was because of what happened last time he had been here with certain members of the Blackthorn family. And while yes, parts of that had been resolved, Kit still thought often about that stupid day in the kitchen with the stupid gun. And with Ty.

Speaking of Ty, he’d disappeared. He’d left the kitchen this morning at breakfast, giving some vague excuse to the rest of the Blackthorns and Tessa and Jem about some reading for the Scholomance, but Kit had a feeling that was bullshit. And now it was afternoon and Ty was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t reappear for training with Dru and Tavvy. Nor for lunch. And Kit wasn’t sure whether he should look for him or not. Was this normal for Ty?

It hit Kit yet again, as it always did, that he didn’t know Ty anymore. Once, he would’ve known without any hesitation where to find him, and whether or not he’d want to be found. Hell, he’d probably be with Ty already, wouldn’t have felt the need to look for him because he was already being included in Ty’s bubble.

Now…well…they couldn’t avoid each other. Not with everything that had been going on. But apparently they could still go without talking to each other beyond a basic level. Nothing beyond that. Ty wouldn’t even look at him. He’d been at Blackthorn Hall with his family all week, and he could count on one hand the amount of times Ty had even looked in his general direction.

Dru had been telling him he needed to fucking talk to Ty, but he kept holding it off. This was his chance, he might not get another one.

But he was so so scared. What could he even say to Ty? How could he explain to him how he felt? How could he even ask Ty what Ty was feeling? Did he even want to know what Ty was feeling? Kit feared it would hurt too much.

The door to Kit’s room opened and Dru strode in. She stalked right over to where he was lying on the bed, and she grabbed him by the ankle, yanking him off the bed swiftly. He landed on his ass on the ground, staring at her in confusion. She was glaring at him.

“Hey, what was that for??” He groaned, rubbing his hip. “That hurt, you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re fine, Kit, don’t be so dramatic.”

Kit stuck his tongue out at her and she cracked a smile. She offered him a hand up and he took it.

“Okay, but seriously, why did you do that?”

“Kit.” She stared at him intently. “My dear friend. My darling friend. My favorite person. My—”

“Okaaayyy, get to the point, Dru,” He grumbled.

She sighed. “I can’t find him, okay? I’m worried. He seemed kind of upset earlier, but I didn’t wanna say anything…but when he didn’t come down for lunch…”

Kit didn’t reply. He just looked at her. “Fine. I’ll look.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Kit.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

As he left the room she called after him, “And remember what we’ve talked about! Communication!!”

He decided it would be in his best interest to ignore her snarky comment and continued on.

He immediately went to the balcony at Blackthorn Hall, because he didn’t know where else to find him. And oddly enough….there he was.

Ty’s back was to Kit, but Kit could see Ty’s shoulders stiffen as he stepped closer. Ty could clearly tell that he was there. But he didn’t turn around.

An awkward silence settled over them both. Kit stared at Ty’s back as Ty continued to pretend like he wasn’t there. He was running through things to say in his head but nothing came to mind.

“Do you need something?” Ty finally said, straightening. He still didn’t turn around.

“Yes—I mean—No. I mean—” Kit couldn’t seem to find the words. “I just…wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Finally Ty turned to him. He wouldn’t meet Kit’s eyes but he nodded. “I’m fine. You can leave now.”

Kit bit his lip. He should’ve expected this, this harsh dismissal. After everything, he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

But he didn’t want that to be it. This was his chance. To try to fix everything.

So he took a step forward.

Ty furrowed his brows. “I said you can leave me alone now.”

“I heard you, Ty,” Kit said softly. He took another step closer. He leaned against the balcony railing next to Ty. “But I think I’m going to stay out here, with you. To keep you company.”

Ty chewed on his lip, his expression torn. He looked confused, and kind of…nervous. “Are you—have you…um. Nevermind.”

“Hmm?” Kit asked, his heart starting to beat a little faster, anxious to know what Ty wanted to say.

“Nothing, sorry,” Ty said. Kit glanced over and noticed that Ty’s hands were clenched on the railing.

Fuck it, here was his chance.

“Ty.”

Ty turned his head a little quicker than Kit suspected he meant to. “Yes?”

“I forgive you,” Kit said softly. Now it was him who couldn’t meet Ty’s eyes. His stomach was all fluttery as he waited for Ty’s response.

“What?”

“A while ago, you asked me how long it would take for me to forgive you and I told you I didn’t know,” Kit continued, closing his eyes as he remembered that horrible day, remembered his harsh words to Ty. He’d still been angry then. Still been hurt. Still felt like it was impossible to love or be loved. Now he realized how wrong he’d been. He knew now that he still loved Ty, just like he had when they were fifteen. Like he always would. His anger had subsided and all he felt when he thought back to those interactions was regret. He wished he’d been there for Ty when Ty had needed him most. “Well, now I know.”

“Kit.”

Kit turned slowly to face Ty. “Yeah?”

Ty reached out and grasped Kit’s hands. “You had every right to hate me. I know that now. I shouldn’t have expected you to forgive me. You still have every right to hate me.”

“But I don’t,” Kit blinked. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, Ty. I—”

“Don’t say it,” Ty said. “Please.”

Kit froze. His hands dropped from Ty’s. If he was honest, he hadn’t expected Ty to say it back. At least not in the way he wanted Ty to. But it still stung, not even being allowed to get the words out.

Ty peered at Kit’s face, and his own face fell. “I’ve offended you, haven’t I?”

“No, no you’re fine,” Kit said, aware how hollow his voice sounded. But he couldn’t help it. He was embarrassed all over again. “I can’t expect you to reciprocate, can I? Some things just aren’t meant to be—”

Ty’s brows furrowed. He looked confused. Then his expression became one of determination.“No, sometimes, I think they are.”

And then Ty grabbed Kit gently, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Every emotion flooded through Kit at once. This was the last thing he’d expected from this conversation. But now here he was, Ty grabbing him by the shirt, their lips pressed together—

And his entire brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts. All he knew is that he liked it (perhaps too much) and that he was kissing Ty back. He didn’t touch Ty, instead he gripped the balcony behind him, letting Ty take the lead. He only wanted whatever Ty wanted; nothing more, nothing that could be out of Ty’s comfort zone.

Kit had expected Ty to be more hesitant, but he wasn’t. He seemed almost desperate, like he was afraid Kit would push him away. And though Kit had kissed boys before, this was different. This was Ty. And any other person he’d ever kissed was completely and utterly forgettable to him in comparison to Ty. In fact, he had forgotten them. All he could think was Ty.

Then he heard the sound of someone coming onto the balcony. A voice followed the sound. “Kit, are you out here—”

Ty and Kit broke apart and turned to the voice. It was Tessa….with a sleeping Mina in her arms.

Tessa was staring at them, surprised. Her surprise turned into a small smile.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Ty let go of Kit’s shirtfront and Kit straightened up. “Um, no. Hi…”

“Hi, Kit,” Tessa said, outright smirking now. Kit’s cheeks flushed bright red and he noticed that Ty was looking everywhere but at Kit or Tessa. “Sorry about that. I was coming to ask if you wouldn’t mind putting Mina to bed for her nap…but you seem busy so I’ll do it. No worries.” She turned and started walking away. She called back over her shoulder with an amused voice, “You kids have fun, see you later. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Kit wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. That was embarrassing to say the least.

Ty coughed.

Kit turned back to him. “I’m so sorry–”

Ty pulled him in for another kiss. This one was just a quick brush of lips but it was enough to shut Kit up and offer a sheepish smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Ty said, sounding almost surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. “So that’s what all the fuss is about.”

Oh.

“It was better than I was expecting,” Ty mused. “Probably because it was you.”

“So that means—”

“I liked it, Kit,” Ty said, moving so that he was leaning on the balcony next to Kit. He brushed his hand against Kit’s ever so slightly. “I like you. I never understood what people meant by that until you. But now, I understand what that means. I understand that feeling.”

Kit rubbed his other hand over his burning face to try and bring the color out of it. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

Ty turned to him. “Yes, you do. You’re just afraid to because I cut you off earlier. But I only did that because I wanted you to know how I felt first.”

“Ty….” Kit said slowly. “Did you really mean it when you said that some things are meant to be?”

“Yes, of course,” Ty replied. “Of course I meant it. I always mean what I say, especially when it comes to you. It’s taken me a lot longer to get there, but I know how I feel now. And I would never even consider lying to you about those feelings, because they involve you too. And because I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I love you, Ty,” Kit said after a moment of processing Ty’s words. “I’ve always loved you, ever since we were kids. I never stopped. And I never will.”

Ty rubbed his eyes, and Kit realized Ty was crying a little bit.

“Can I hug you?”

Ty nodded, and Kit slid his arms around Ty’s shoulders. Ty held onto Kit tightly. They stood like that for a long time, even after Ty had stopped crying. Kit suspected that Ty was trying to make up for three years wasted. And he was completely fine with that. Nothing was better than the feeling of Ty’s arms around him, knowing that Ty felt something for him. He didn’t want to call it love necessarily, because it was Ty’s decision to call it that and he hadn’t yet, but it was something. And Kit would take something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thanks for reading, lovely human!! plz reblog, like, and comment if you enjoyed!!!

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Sixteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n:

***

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

In Cassian’s arms, Nesta is shocked for all of a second before melting into his heat, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and joy as he gives her.

Fireworks go off, illuminating the scene around them, but he doesn’t hear or see any of it. Confetti poppers are popped, sending glitter and paper flying everywhere, and still he kisses Nesta.

It’s not until the fireworks show hits its crashing climax that Nesta flinches, breaking away from his lips.

She hates loud noises, Cassian remembers. He stupidly considers covering her ears against the noise for her, but then her shoulders relax, and she comes in again for a deeper kiss. His hands tangle in her bronze hair, and when they next break apart, he remembers the words he’s been holding in for so long. “I love you,” he says against her mouth, imprinting the shape of the words onto her lips. Her answering grin is bright enough to match the moon.

For a single moment, they are a perfect couple. No secrets, no baggage, no outsiders to judge them. And then the fireworks die out and the confetti falls to the floor, and the lights seem to turn bright enough to burn the eyes. The party returns to normal, and so do they.

Nesta is clutching Cassian’s wrist, looking like she has something she needs to say, but then her gaze drifts past his shoulder. To where her sisters and his friends are. She looks up at Cassian nervously. “Can you—”

“Deal with that?” he finishes for her, referring to the friends who had surely seen everything. “Yes.” It’s his responsibility to bear in the first place. Nesta doesn’t owe anybody except her sisters an answer.

Nesta looks torn between feeling guilty and grateful. “I should be there with you.”

Cassian can’t help but be awed. Nesta, who can’t have dinner without knowing what’s on the menu at least two hours ahead, has no idea what to expect from his friends. And still she’s offering to face them with him.

He takes her hand and runs a soothing thumb down her racing pulse, then her sweaty palm. “Go back inside,” he tells her, placing a kiss on her fingers. “I’ll find you when I’m done.” He might put a little sensual promise into his words to ease the nerves lacing her body, but he doesn’t know if it helps. She nods and stalks off.

Cassian stays where he is and leans his arms against the wooden balcony railing, staring into the clear night while the rest of the guests slowly trail back into the warmth of the cabin. He and Nesta will have to clean up this whole mess of confetti and streamers tomorrow, and they’ll have to do something about the new wine stain he spotted earlier on the couch—

Feyre storms up to him first. “How long?” she demands.

He looks sidelong at her. “How long, what?”

“How long have you had feelings for my sister?” Her cheeks are flushed red, either from the cold or rage Cassian can’t tell. This isn’t the question he expected from her.

“Since the day you told me to pick her up from the middle of the woods,” he answers honestly.

Feyre turns impossibly redder. “And how long have you been together?”

“Since Thanksgiving.”

Feyre looks seconds away from attacking him. “I trusted you—”

“Darling.” Rhys has come up behind her, Mor and Elain trailing him. Azriel watches coolly from the door, likely only there to see the drama unfold.

Rhys puts a hand on Feyre’s back, and she ignores it. “I trusted you to take care of her, to live with her, because I knew you would never take advantage of her like that. Because I believed you wouldn’t do exactly what you’ve just done,” she seethes at him.

Cassian stares in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about right now?”

“I’m talking about how you’ve had a hard-on for Nesta this whole time, in close quarters with her, and never thought it was worth mentioning to me.”

“I share one kiss with my girlfriend and that’s what you jump to? That I preyed on your adult sister? You really have no other questions for me?” His voice raises with every sentence, and a few guests lingering on the ground below glance up toward the balcony.

“What else am I supposed to believe?” She’s nearly shouting at him. “You didn’t tell me anything. You lied to me, knowing that Nesta is—Nesta.”

“For good fucking reason, I’m starting to see.”

“Cassian,” Rhysand says warningly.

Cassian didn’t hear him. “What is your real problem with Nesta, Feyre? Where is the problem in me loving her and her loving me? Do you think she’s incapable of making decisions for herself, or is this another thing where you’re jealous she has a life outside of you?”

“That is not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?” he demands.

“You know!” She stabs a finger at his chest, chin quivering. “You know how she is, how she feels and sees things differently than most people, and how her history with men isn’t great. And you still thought it was okay to drag her into a relationship. Why else wouldn’t you tell anyone about it, if you didn’t feel it was wrong?”

Cassian’s face turns colder than the frozen air around them. “I don’t know who you’re talking about right now, but it isn’t your sister,” he says. “It’s not my fault if you don’t know her the way you thought you did. Take that up with her, not me.”

Feyre’s breath steams in the air before her. “I will,” she fumes. She spins on her heel to leave, but Cassian catches her by the wrist.

“After you cool down,” he demands. “You’re not ruining her night.”

Feyre stares him down for a long moment, and eventually shakes his hand off her wrist. She walks back inside, waving Rhys away when he tries to follow. Elain, who Cassian forgot was there, stares at him before going inside as well.

Rhysand turns back to Cassian with ice in his violet eyes.

“Don’t start,” Cassian says, tired. “She doesn’t need you fighting her battles for her.”

“That’s not what I was going to talk about,” he says. “You lied to us.”

Mor bundles deeper into her white coat. “You really love her?” she says quietly.

Azriel steps into their little circle beside Cassian without saying a word. Supporting Cassian in silence.

“I liked having something I didn’t have to share with everyone,” Cassian says, the admission feeling heavy on his tongue. “And I don’t regret it. It was nice while it lasted.”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” Mor mutters.

“So,” Rhys gestures at the spot where Cassian and Nesta kissed, “that’s it? You’re dating Feyre’s sister now, with nothing else to say?”

“This isn’t a damn group decision,” Cassian grits.

“That’s not what we meant,” says Mor. “But you’ve been hiding an entire girlfriend up here for months. We have questions.”

“Then I’ll hold a Q&A session later,” he says sardonically. “But since we’re on the topic of Nesta, I do have something to say.”

Mor and Rhys look taken aback.

Cassian straightens up. “You don’t have to like her. You definitely don’t have to be friends with her. But I expect all of you to respect her, even Amren. If it’s not something you would say out loud about Feyre or Elain, then it won’t be something you say about Nesta. You will be on your best behavior around her, and you will not upset or scare her away. Is that clear?”

Az snorts. “Yes, General.”

Cassian cuts a sharp look in his direction. “That applies to you, too. Don’t toy around with her.”

Az grows solemn and nods.

“Is that it?” Mor raises a brow.

“You might find it harder than you think.”

She scoffs. “Well, if I had known I was bitching about your girlfriend this entire time…”

“You wouldn’t have changed,” Azriel interjects. “You’d be even worse.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. I can play nice.”

Cassian looks to Rhys.

“I haven’t spoken a word to her in years,” Rhys grumbles.

“You will respect her, even when she’s not in the room.” He doubts Nesta will be happy to have shit talked about her when she isn’t in a sex-driven haze.

Rhys looks away. “I can’t believe you even have to ask me such a thing,” he mutters. “She’s with you now, of course I’ll lay off her.”

“And you’ll stay out of the sisters’ issues,” Cassian adds.

Rhys smiles wryly. “When did we switch jobs? You want to be boss now or something?”

“If we’re done here, can we go the fuck inside?” Mor groans. “I’m freezing. And I’m holding you to that Q&A session.” She points a finger at Cassian.

He allows himself to grin, feeling truly light for the first time in months. It isn��t a band-aid solution to everything, but it’s better than lying to his family for the rest of his life. Mor and Az head back inside, and Cassian and Rhys trail them. It’s not until Cassian reaches the door that he remembers—

“What was it you wanted to tell me earlier?” He turns to Rhys.

Rhys looks startled, then uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s the right time for it anymore. You might not want to hear it at all.”

Well, now Cassian’s curious. “Just tell me. I want to know.”

Rhys holds in a sigh. “Fine. Let’s talk inside.”

***

It’s almost two in the morning when the last guest goes home, and Feyre has no excuse left to idle around.

She finds Nesta in the kitchen doing dishes, her back turned to Feyre. Her heels have been discarded, her hair is tied up out of her face, and her sequined dress sleeves are pushed up her arms so they don’t get wet. She looks so… at home. Like this kitchen and the rest of the cabin is undeniably hers.

It reminds Feyre that it wasn’t Cassian kissing Nesta that felt like a punch to the throat. It was when Feyre saw Nesta break away, smile brightly, and kiss him back.

Feyre carefully approaches the island and clears her throat. Nesta doesn’t hear her over the sound of running water. Feyre tries again harder, but swallows the wrong way and ends up in a coughing fit.

That gets Nesta’s attention. She spins around to find Feyre hacking like an idiot, and shuts the tap off. “What’s wrong with you?” she says.

Feyre coughs one final time, her throat scratchy now. “Water. I need water.”

Nesta’s eyes nearly roll out of her head, but she grabs a clean glass and fills it up, handing it to Feyre.

Feyre chugs half the glass and sets it down with an exhale. “I was trying to say,” she starts after an awkward moment, “that you look very settled here.”

“I am,” Nesta says without pause.

“And you’ve probably heard about my—argument with Cassian by now.” Cassian, who is no longer just Feyre’s friend, but Nesta’s boyfriend. Someone Nesta loves, if Feyre heard correctly in her fury.

“Unfortunately, wooden walls carry sound pretty far.” That’s all Nesta bothers to say before turning the sink on again, resuming her dishwashing.

Feyre used to think Nesta’s lack of words meant she had nothing to say. Now she suspects there’s a storm of words raging in Nesta’s head. Too many words to even try to string together coherently, so she stays silent instead.

“I wanted to ask for your side of the story,” Feyre says. “I didn’t even think to consider your feelings before I went off at Cassian, and I might have made—some assumptions.”

“You implied that I was too weak-minded to make decisions for myself and that Cassian took advantage of my weaknesses to get me into his bed.” Nesta’s tone is flat, her eyes on the plate she’s scrubbing.

Feyre winces when she hears it out loud. “Yes, I did that.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Nesta says. “You clearly have no problem believing what you already believe.”

“I can’t know how you feel about things if you never tell me, Nesta,” Feyre tries to defend. “I’ve been going off my assumptions for years because you don’t share anything about yourself. If I had misconceptions about you, you never corrected them.”

“And that’s an excuse to not ask me about my feelings? To not come to me when you have concerns about my life?”

“I’m coming to you now,” Feyre says. “That’s the whole point.”

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Feyre adds, “I know that we don’t know how to communicate without offending each other. So for five minutes can we just put the defensiveness aside and talk about this?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about.” Nesta rinses the last glass and shuts the water off, going to dry her hands on a towel.

“I’ll start then: Why didn’t you tell me about you and Cassian?”

Nesta stares at the countertop. “If I answer that question honestly, you’ll call me cruel.”

Feyre hides her flinch, and decides she doesn’t need to hear the answer. Deep down, she probably already knows it. “Alright. When did you start liking him as more than a friend?”

“October. Do you want cake?” Nesta turns toward the fridge in search of dessert.

“I’m good,” Feyre says. “How did you—fall for him?” She’s had all night to think about these questions, but it still sounds impossible saying it out loud. Like two worlds colliding in the weirdest way.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Feyre repeated for the third time that night, sequestered with Elain touching up her makeup in one of the bathrooms. “Does it make sense to you?”

“I can see it,” Elain said flatly. “Nesta’s emotional, and Cassian’s emotionally intelligent. If anyone could put in the work to understand her, it’s him.”

Elain didn’t show a hint of feeling since she watched Cassian sweep Nesta into his arms and kiss her like a hero from a romance novel. When Feyre later asked Elain if she wanted to talk to Nesta with her, she curtly refused and proceeded to leave the party early.

Now, Nesta busies herself by digging through the fridge. “He’s kind. He’s unfaltering. He’s easy to talk to. It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot.”

“Is that it?”

Nesta shuts the fridge, cake in hand. “Why don’t you ask what you really want to ask, Feyre?” She yanks a drawer open with a little too much force and grabs a fork.

This, Feyre hasn’t practiced for. But she needs to find a way to voice it. “I never knew… after Tomas, I didn’t think you would trust a man again. I didn’t trust a man with you again.”

Nesta whips her head to glare at Feyre, and Feyre shrinks away from her near-feral stare. She spoke too much. She fucked it up already.

“What do you know about Tomas?” Nesta says lowly.

“It doesn’t take a genius to know that Tomas was shit. I never liked him. I was so happy when you left him.”

“And what?” Nesta drops the cake onto the island with a thump. “You thought he broke me? You thought I’d never find love again?”

Feyre looks down, playing with her nails. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe, Nesta,” she says quietly.

“And I’m trying to tell you I don’t need your protection. I never did. You do not get to assume what I’m fit for and what I’m not. You do not get to pretend to know me when you’ve never made an effort to understand me.”

“Made an effort?” Feyre can’t believe Nesta’s words. “All I’ve ever done my whole life is make an effort—to talk to you, to be close with you.”

“No,” she says firmly. “You only ever tried to make me do things your way. You wanted me to be more like you. I always came over to your place, I always participated in your parties, I always did the things you wanted to do even when I hated it, because that was me making an effort for you.”

The words take a long time to sink in. Feyre finally swallows. “Do you always have to be so cruel?”

“I’m not being cruel. This is just me. The person you see is the person Cassian fell in love with, and he likes me just fine. You’re the one who’s never liked me.” Nesta’s chest is heaving. “Yes, I am well aware of my flaws, and yes, I’m putting in the work to get past them. That’s what therapy is for. But until you look at your own issues instead of being personally offended by mine all the time, I can’t speak to you without wanting to scream.” She’s trembling as if she’s holding in a shriek right now. “I can’t keep bearing the weight of it—of our past, of everything you want that I can’t give. You won’t let me move away from it.”

Her words ring in the silence.

Feyre’s face is cold, and she touches it to find tears on her cheeks. “I didn’t know…” She blinks, looking away. She suddenly wants to be anywhere else but here, where all she’s good for is torturing her sister. But Feyre is twenty-one years old and she’s getting too old to keep this hateful thing between her and Nesta alive. She reaches for the cake and takes off the lid. “Get me another fork,” she sniffs through tears.

Nesta stares at her for a long moment, then does what she asked. Feyre wipes her eyes.

They sit across from each other at the island and dig in without bothering to get plates. Feyre takes a bite and makes a face at the sour taste, nearly spitting it out. “What is this, lemon?”

“Yes,” Nesta says, stabbing her fork into the cake. “Lemon is for guests.”

“Implying you have different types of cake lying around?” She points to the fridge.

“Chocolate is for Cassian. You can’t have it.”

“Oh. Okay then.” Shared cake, Feyre thinks. How long until they sign up for coinsurance?

They eat in silence for a few minutes, but Feyre’s mind whirls the entire time. She has to speak first, but she doesn’t know where to start.

The beginning might be good.

“I…” she speaks hesitantly, “didn’t mean to make you feel responsible for the past. That wasn’t anybody’s fault.”

Nesta doesn’t look comforted by her words. “You think Dad wouldn’t have let us all die in our pile of bills if you hadn’t stepped up?”

True. Feyre used to drown in bitterness over it: working forty hours a week and then some just to keep the family alive, and receiving nothing in return. While Nesta escaped to the woods to read all day and Elain flirted with boys in mall parking lots, Feyre carried the brunt of reality on her shoulders. It wasn’t until their father died and she got out of that town that she realized—if it was anybody’s fault, it was his.

“I think we all did our best to survive,” Feyre says. “Especially you. But if it’s moving away from me and Elain that you want, I can’t give it to you.”

Nesta looks unsurprised. Before she can argue, Feyre states firmly, “I can do things your way. I can come to you. We can learn to meet each other halfway.”

“Then you’ll be disappointed when, even after all that work, I still find you annoying as fuck.”

Feyre actually laughs. The sentiment still stings, but… “We’ll just have to see how it goes.” But what if Nesta never does like her? The thought nags. What will she do then?

Nesta narrows her eyes at Feyre. “And what about Elain?”

Her absence in the kitchen suddenly feels pointed. Feyre twirls her fork. “We’re not as close as you think, you know. I don’t always know what she’s feeling. You might have to figure her out on your own.”

Nesta looks like she would rather die.

A knock sounds at one of the kitchen entryways. Feyre turns to see Cassian leaning against the wall, looking warily between the two sisters. “I hate to interrupt,” he says, “but can I see Nesta now?”

It still startles Feyre: he’s here for Nesta, not her. That’ll definitely take some time to get used to.

“For sure,” Feyre says, getting up from her seat. She looks back at Nesta, wondering about how much more they need to say to each other…

From the look on Nesta’s face, they’ve done enough for tonight. “I’ll be calling, then,” Feyre says.

“Can’t promise I’ll answer,” Nesta replies.

Of course. Feyre turns on her heel to leave, but stops before Cassian for a brief moment. “I’m so sorry.” The words flow a lot more easier with him than they would with Nesta. “I said some terrible things outside—please forgive me.” She’s genuinely terrified at the idea of losing Cassian over her battle with her sister.

Cassian smiles down at her, not his usual grin but something gentler, more understanding. “There’s nothing to worry about.” His eyes dart to Nesta for confirmation of this, and he must like whatever he sees, because he looks back at Feyre and ruffles her hair. “Glad you’re feeling better, kid.”

***

Once Feyre leaves and Cassian can hear her and Rhys getting ready for the limo drive back home, he finally allows himself to approach Nesta at the island. Rounding the counter to where she sits, he wraps her into a hug.

For once, Nesta doesn’t question his unsolicited affection. She leans in and wraps her own arms around his torso, resting her head against his stomach. “Where were you this whole time?” Her voice is muffled in his shirt.

“Nowhere,” he plays off easily. “Just talking to Rhys about work stuff.”

The conversation lasted much longer than Cassian would have preferred, but by the end of it Cassian’s stance was firm.

“It’s a year-long project based in Milan. It would technically be a promotion for you, and you would work on-site the whole time. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to get out of the cabin,” Rhys said.

“By sending me out of the country?” Cassian scoffed.

“With the way you’ve been avoiding us lately—I know now that it was about Nesta, but when I heard about the position, you were the first person to come to mind. Taking time to yourself, traveling on your own, making a mark without having your entire family attached to your hip… It sounded like something you needed, so I recommended you for the job.”

Rhys was scarily accurate, because those were all things that Cassian wanted. He and Nesta made lists about places they wanted to visit all the time. But doing it like this?

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to Italy.”

Rhys looked away. “That’s what I thought you’d say. You’re still in the honeymoon phase with Nesta.”

“Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t go. A year away from home? What are you thinking?”

Rhys raised his hands in defense. “Look, you don’t have to go. I can give the position away to someone else. But you’re the most qualified and deserving person on the team and we both know it.”

Even now, Cassian knows it. Unfortunately for Rhys, that won’t get his answer to change.

He smiles down to where Nesta hides in his arms, visibly exhausted after the night she’s had. “How did your talk with Feyre go?” he has to ask.

“I thought I was being pretty generous. I didn’t even call her a hypocrite for half the things I wanted to.”

“Does that mean it went well?”

Nesta sighs against his chest. “I think we reached some sort of understanding. Though I’m not sure if that makes me a bad person, for giving her hope of a better relationship between us.”

“I think it makes you a strong person,” Cassian says honestly.

“And what if I can’t deliver?”

“You can’t find out until you try.”

Nesta looks up to meet his eyes, and for a short second he’s overwhelmed by need. “Say it again,” he breathes.

Her brows furrow. “Say what?”

“What you said in the truck. I need to hear it again.”

“Oh, that.” She looks embarrassed. “Iloveyou,” she mutters quickly.

He pokes her. “Say it like you mean it, not like you’re announcing you have syphilis.”

She glares, but clears her throat and gets serious. “Cassian. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

His heartbeat stutters at the earnestness on her face. “Since when?” His lips spread into a grin.

Her face drops. “Yeah, this is really putting a damper on my feelings right now.” Nesta starts to squirm out of his arms.

“No, wait—” He tries to stop her.

“I’ll help you clean in the morning, okay?” She yawns, heading for the exit. “Good night, babe.”

“I was kidding—” He starts to follow after her, shouting, “Where are you going?”

***

Nesta wakes late the next morning with a solid warmth pressed against her back. For a second, it disorients her. She never wakes up before Cassian.

But she turns around and there he is, dead asleep while the sun is already high in the sky.

She reaches up on instinct to brush his silken hair out of his face. He’ll be pissed he missed his six a.m. workout, New Year’s Day be damned.

Putting on her glasses from the nightstand, Nesta carefully eases out of bed and crosses the room to pull the curtains shut over the wall of windows. When she’s satisfied that the room is dark enough, she tiptoes out of it.

The downstairs is still a mess from last night. Nesta wrinkles her nose at the sight of it. Discarded champagne glasses scatter the living and dining areas, and whoever snuck in those damn confetti poppers left a mess on the hardwood floors. Platters of long since finished food lie on random surfaces.

“Even the rich and sophisticated party like pigs,” she mutters to herself, stepping over a discarded throw pillow to reach the kitchen. She needs coffee and a hose to scrub this place down—

“Good morning.”

Nesta yelps, spinning toward the figure near the sink she didn’t see while coming in. “Fucking Christ!”

Azriel doesn’t blink, holding an apple in one hand and a paring knife in the other. “We’re out of coffee.” He looks like he just rolled out of bed, sweatpants and all.

“What are you doing here?” Nesta demands. “Where did you come from?”

“Ah, about that,” he says casually. “I never left.”

“You slept here?”

“Do you have breakfast? Because there isn’t even a box of cereal in this place.”

“Azriel,” Nesta forces his name out. “Start answering my questions.”

He has the decency to look sorry and blushes. “I needed some time away from Velaris. I figured the cabin would be empty since you moved out and I brought some of my stuff over last night.”

“So when I found you upstairs…?”

“I was staking out a room to stay in.”

Nesta has so many questions she almost forgets to be upset. But it’s hard not to be upset when she’s standing in front of a near-stranger in only Cassian’s shirt. “Does Cassian know about this?”

Azriel carves out an apple slice and shrugs dismissively. “He will soon.”

Her stomach churns with familiar anxiety. “But you can’t—” She wrings the shirt she’s wearing in her hands. “You can’t do this.”

“Why not? It’s my brother’s place.” His eyes dare her to disagree. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d be living here when I decided to move in.”

“I don’t live here,” she says. In fact, she’s supposed to return to her apartment tomorrow. “But I spend a lot of time here and I didn’t get to prepare for—” she waves her hands in Azriel’s direction, “you.” It’s a wrench thrown in the gears of Nesta’s carefully calculated life.

Azriel raises a dark brow. “Do you need to prepare for me?” He pushes an apple slice into his mouth.

“Yes!” This is a change she had no say in, and those are the worst kind of changes.

Azriel puts the apple and knife down and leans against the counter. “Prepare for me, then.”

“What?”

“Before Cassian gets up, take the time to get used to the fact that I’m going to be around for the next few weeks.”

“Weeks?” Nesta pales.

“A month, tops,” he promises. When Nesta doesn’t look reassured, he says quietly, “Go on. Do what you need to do to get comfortable.”

“But I barely know you,” she says. Well, Nesta knows Azriel is the pretty brother and the quiet brother, but now she’s starting to think he’s also the weird brother.

That’s three things they have in common, at least.

“Uh...what do you want to know?” He tries to sound nice, inviting. Nesta uses that awkward tone all the time.

It actually brings her some semblance of comfort. She sits down carefully on a barstool and asks, “Why are you really here?”

“I’m avoiding someone,” he answers without hesitation.

“Who?”

“Nobody of interest to you.” They’re doing rapid fire mode, then.

“Do you know how to cook?” she says.

“No. Do you?”

“No.” A loss on both parts. “What are you good at?”

“Minding my business.”

Nesta narrows her eyes at him. “Like you were minding your business outside Cassian’s room last night?”

He makes the slightest wince. “That was an unfortunate incident where I toyed with you. It won’t happen again.”

She doesn’t know why, but she believes him.

“What won’t happen again?”

Nesta turns to find Cassian trudging into the kitchen, looking only half-awake. He notices Azriel. “Oh, hey bro.”

Azriel nods. “Hey.”

Cassian is about to drop a kiss onto Nesta’s head when he freezes. “Wait.” The look on his face makes Nesta forget her earlier discomfort; she laughs out loud.

Peering all the way up at him from her seat, she says, “Your brother is moving in. I am reacting to this like a well-adjusted human being.”

He raises his brows. “Are you now?”

“I didn’t freak out one bit,” she says, trying to spare Azriel from her boyfriend’s overprotective wrath. Cassian doesn’t buy it.

He looks at Azriel and tilts his head toward the living room. “You wanna talk?” He leaves before the other man can answer.

Nesta shrugs apologetically at Azriel’s stunned face. “I did my best. He’s going to give you a lecture on boundaries now.”

“No, he’s not,” Azriel grumbles as he starts following after Cassian. “He’s going to beat my ass.”

***

a/n: when in doubt, write a flashback scene in italics

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara9 @lanyjoy-13

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic

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nohoney · 3 years

Text

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) 4.4

note: whoo finally back from a much needed break from the us series. went through a little bit of a lull where i had to step back and take some time apart from the series but i’m back again. this is something of an epilogue but also not? it essentially concludes part 4.

Us Series

warnings: 18+, drugs, toxic relationships, a bit of smut but nothing too descriptive

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ✧

It’s a cold autumn night when you finally say it, when you finally tell them but it’s also done as a backhand to someone.

You convinced yourself that you did it because it was time to say it, you have heard both confessions so you needed to say it back.

In truth… you said it to hurt someone but you felt it justified.

You’re not a needlessly cruel person, you can get a little snippy and sarcastic but you’re not particularly mean to anyone. You’re too nice sometimes, stretching your patience out for certain people that took advantage of your kindness and that actually includes Touya but you have a strong relationship going so of course you let it slide with him. The point is, in general you’re just a decent person that doesn’t feel it’s necessary to put negative energy out in the world.

But you make an exception just this one time.

You just had to show her because clearly she wasn’t getting the hint.

Oh hell, who were you kidding?

They weren’t hints, Touya was literally telling the bitch to fuck off.

“The fucking cunt tried to force my zipper down so she could suck me off, almost had to knock her ass out when she wouldn’t get off me the last time.” Touya is pressing an ice pack to his cheek and glaring out into the view of his balcony, a cigarette in his free hand. You stand inside the apartment, the screen door shut but the sliding glass door leaves just a crack so that you can still talk to him, not wanting to breathe the smell of cigarettes directly. Keigo stands behind you with his arms looped around your waist, also apart of the conversation.

“And what, she smacked you afterwards when you pushed her off?” you ask as you lean your weight against Keigo.

“Of fucking course, you think I’m holding this thing to my face for fun?” Touya snaps at you before taking another drag.

Keigo squeezes his arms around you when you tense up, a silent signal for you to let Touya’s attitude slide. Understandably he’s pissed but you take it personal when he gets annoyed like this, like you feel like it’s your fault even though you had done nothing wrong. But Keigo reassures you by leaning down to whisper in your ear, makes it look like he’s just giving you a kiss to your temple, tells you to just let him be upset for the time being.

An eightball sits on the table, a little crumpled in its little baggy but otherwise not a drop was spilled when Touya snagged it back from Mai.

Touya’s whole body tense, his jaw is clenched, foot tapping repeatedly, and eyebrows pinched in annoyance. He’s muttering to himself, “Shoulda’ just cut the bitch off…”

You don’t really like to be around Touya when he’s tense like this, you’ve tried to calm him down a few times but sometimes he’s just too much for you to handle. So you let Keigo take the reigns and step away to go to the bedroom to give them some space. Touya’s still too pissed but he does utter out a quiet ‘alright doll’ in acknowledgement while Keigo kisses your cheek before joining Touya outside on the balcony. It’s best that Keigo help Touya cool down, more likely they’d both come to you when the mood was better.

And as you go into the bedroom and shimmy out of the pants you wore today, Touya’s phone vibrates on the nightstand. One notification… two notifications… three— wait it’s, four.

“Geez, who’s blowing up his phone?” you ask yourself quietly before picking up his cell. You unlock the preview screen of the phone, knowing Touya’s password since he gave it to you, and you sigh when two more notifications pop up. And it’s all from the same person, the whore that Touya decided to drop not too long ago. Mai’s sending message after message, apology texts for forcing herself on him. Pleas to not cut her off from the coke she’s come to rely on to get her through some rough days, his is the best and she won’t settle for anything that’s not his anymore. Desperate texts about cocaine then shift to her trying to reel him back to the arrangement they had before. You can’t help but frown that Mai is uselessly trying to seduce your boyfriend back into fucking her.

“C’mon, he already made it clear he doesn’t want you anymore.” you mutter to yourself as you look over the messages. “Fucking bitch…”

Very unlike you to use those kinds of words, Touya is rubbing off on you.

Keigo’s admitted to you in secret that Touya is coming pretty close to blowing his lid with this chick. And with what happened today, you wouldn’t be surprised if something was done about it. Touya obviously wasn’t going to go back, this is the first time in the relationship that he’s officially winding down the list of girls he still keeps to fuck, finally choosing one and tossing her out the window so that he can eventually just focus on you.

It’s annoying and a little hurtful still that after a year Touya is just now finally starting to get rid of the whores, but it strangely makes you happy at the same time knowing that he’s finally done it. You wish you knew the reason why Touya still bothered with them but he’s made it up to you, promised you that you’re his number one and that no one else means as much to him as you do. And what can you do but believe him, doing what he says and what he wants because you honestly don’t want to be without him either. Your body still tingles at the quiet murmur of Touya finally telling you he loves you when he thought you were fast asleep. Keigo’s own bold confession also brings a smile to your face and you think how much you love them.

Ding!

You frown at the notification.

It’s a nude.

You set down Touya’s phone and try to calm your nerves.

His phone notifications are suffocating and you don’t want to be in the apartment anymore, you feel like there’s something important you have to do. So you march out of the bedroom and head towards the sliding door, peeking your head out just a tad. “Hey, I’m gonna head back to my place okay?” you tell them, your heart beating a little fast in your chest and trying not to appear antsy. You can’t help thinking that what you need to do has to be done right away, that you might as well strike while the iron is hot. You have an excuse ready to use when Touya asks why but it lies useless on your tongue instead.

“No, stay here.” Touya commands without looking at you.

“But Touya, I really need-” you try to plead with him but you’re cut off once again as he says no once more. And normally you’d listen after the second time, especially considering the mood he’s in, but you’ve got adrenaline pumping in your veins and a mission on your mind that you just have to get done. “Touya, just let me-”

He doesn’t want to hear anymore, when Touya says that you stay, you stay. He pushes the sliding door open too hard, the glass rattling and startling you. He flicked the cigarette he was smoking over the railing, that same hand holding your jaw and squishing your cheeks a little roughly. Cigarette smoke lingers on his fingers as he holds you still, so close to your nostrils and you whine from it. You instantly cower and the adrenaline of determination is replaced with apprehension. You don’t like Touya’s temper, whether he’s directing it at someone else or you.

“Touya, be gentle.” Keigo says from his spot on the balcony, standing a little straighter and ready to get in between if needed.

“When I say stay, you stay. Understand?”

There’s no arguing with Touya, not when he’s got such an angry look in his eyes.

All you can do is nod your head and look down in submission. Never mind the reason why you were so eager to leave, that essentially you were being told to stay here without your permission, but in your mind you excused it. Whatever you wanted to do, it could wait, that it was better that you think about it first instead of just recklessly jumping into it. Touya was doing you a favor telling you to stay at his place without him ever knowing it.

Oh how everything Touya did change your thinking now, considering him more than your own feelings. But you think it’s okay, it’s okay because you love him and you understand him, loving someone means understanding the rough patches of who they are and knowing underneath that the things they do sometimes they don’t always mean it. You have to understand it and love it, even if it means letting your cheeks hurt from the way his fingers gripped into the tender flesh.

“I’m sorry Touya…” you whimper pitifully and look up at him.

Touya regards you quietly for a moment before telling you, “Go take a nap.”

He releases your face from his hold but it’s not gentle how he pushes you away, it almost makes your eyes water and that’s when Keigo steps in to smooth over everything.

“C’mon songbird, I’ll tuck you in alright?” Keigo’s leading you to the bedroom and gently shutting the door behind him. Touya should be the one reprimanded for treating you a little roughly but instead Keigo tuts gently at you as he brings you into a hug, “Baby, you know better than to test Touya like that. What’s gotten into you?”

Your shoulders sag in his embrace but you return it nonetheless. “I… don’t know. I’m sorry…”

His hand rubs your back soothingly and he kisses the top of your head, Keigo’s comfort easing you just a little bit. But even as he reassures you with sweet words and to just let what happened with Touya slide for now, you still think of what you were planning to do earlier if you hadn’t been commanded to stay here at the apartment. It would have to wait until you were out next time with neither of the boys with you.

And you think to yourself how much you love them, the echoes of their confessions making your heart bloom in your chest and the messages from Mai solidifying what you had to do for yourself.

It’s something you’d never done before, would never consider under the circumstances you’re putting yourself under but you needed to make a point.

Yumi is hosting another party at her house and you ask her what time the party starts, just like last time that she invited you but lets you know that your boys are welcome to come as well even though she’d like it to be just you. There’s a little bit of disappoint in her voice when you tell her Keigo and Touya will arrive with you, obviously wanting you to come alone so that she could have time with you, but you swear that you’ll treat her to brunch next time and it will be just the two of you. She seems accepting of it and cheers up at your proposal and then hints that she would like to re-up if Touya is going to attend anyway.

Touya comes into the bedroom after an hour and presses a kiss to your temple when you sit up against the headboard and asking how you feel. He doesn’t offer an apology from before, not that you were expecting it from him anyway, but he throws in ‘babydoll’ when he speaks to you, that subtle way of letting you know that he is trying to make up with you from before.

“Hey, let’s go to a party this weekend.”

“Don’t know if I’ll feel like it…”

He says he’s not in the mood but it swings in your favor when you pout at him and give him sad eyes, giving in simply because of what happened before. He’s not a social person, that much is apparent, but he’ll let himself be towed around by you if you’ll make it worth his time later on. And Keigo will be there alongside too to offset him, he’s very much included in what you plot in your mind.

And if you know the boys as well as you think you do, they’ll fall exactly into place where and when you need them.

You didn’t want to seem hasty by the time you arrived to the house, quickly greeting Yumi and a few other friends you haven’t seen in a while when you walk through the door. Keigo fits in naturally with the crowd while Touya remains standoffish with a disinterested gaze. He holds a beer in his hand and has an arm slung over your shoulders, not really used to being at a gathering and not conducting business.

He hates it but he at least came for you.

Yumi confirms for you that Mai is around and offers to act as a buffer if she were to come within vicinity of you, which you politely decline and say that you can handle it.

It does require a bit of liquid courage, a few shots of liquor to dull your nerves and seek her out.

Not that you had to look very far anyway.

Mai kept a respectable distance watching you and Touya from afar.

So she’s surprised when you approach her, your glazed eyes that tell her that you’re just a little drunk, that it hides the truth that you know why she’s bitter and directing it towards you. That it already hurt to know you were chosen by the man she still wanted but to see it right there in front of her was salt in her wound. But you told her that you could soothe her, that it doesn’t have to be like this, if she really wants back in then just play nice with you and maybe he would reconsider her again.

You instill a hope that maybe she can be able to reach out to Touya again, that in the way Keigo and Touya share you, that you’re willing to share him with her.

So you kiss her, your first kiss with a girl, a girl that hates you but cups your cheek as she leans into the kiss.

A girl who’s feelings you’re about to crush.

Touya and Keigo always have eyes on you, you know that ever since that party where you mixed for the first time and ran off, they don’t let you stray very far. Surprised doesn’t even begin to describe their shock when they find you lip locked with Mai, with the first whore that Touya decided to drop and was trying to get away from. So he approaches and turns your head towards him, his voice low as he asks you, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Makin’ out, s’okay yeah?” your words are a little slurred but you reach one hand to his shirt to pull him closer. “Make out with us baby?”

A beat of consideration.

Even Mai waits apprehensively but you have no worries because you know that Touya will say…

“Room, now.”

Keigo naturally falls in too, the four of you led up to Mai’s room in the house, heavy breaths and little moans from her that grate on your ears. You push it out of your mind that she’s made those sounds for Touya before you came along, been on his dick after buying buying a gram or two off him, but that she won’t be around again. It occurs to you that possibly what you’re about to do might piss off Yumi because this will definitely go around and you might potentially lose her as a friend but…

This is more important.

It annoys you a little too much how Keigo kisses Mai, seems a little too comfortable with his hands going up her shirt while Touya’s sucking a bruise onto your neck. Unlike Touya, he’s been faithful this entire time so it irks you to see your other boyfriend kiss her with just a bit too much energy. It bothers you but you know that you’ll get his attention with just a call of his name, “Keigo… Kei… kiss me.”

So he does, still groping at Mai while he leans towards you and tenderly presses his lips to yours. Under the impression that you were switching off to Keigo, Mai attempts to make her way towards Touya but you pull him towards you before he can even turn his head towards her when she whines out, “Dabi…”

Dabi… it’s almost foreign to you that a few months ago that’s what you called him.

No one else would ever get that privilege.

It’s just you that gets it.

Just you and them.

Us.

And it slips out earlier than you had expected but it falls naturally, “I love you…”

It stuns them for a moment but the boys know that they don’t have to fight over who you said it to because it was meant for the both of them.

It stuns Mai too, caught off guard to be apart of an intimate moment. To witness how Touya utters his own devotion to you, kissing you deeply and pushing her away and she knows that you set her up to look like a fool when you peak your eye at her with intention. And it’s not just one person you say it too, Keigo voicing it aloud as well and leans in to have his turn while she still stands stunned. It’s the most cruel thing you’ve ever done to someone else, right there in their own space too where she sleeps, reads, and does god knows what.

She gets the picture now.

Back off.

If you really wanted to be even more cruel and drive a stake through her heart, you’d kick her out her own room and let the boys have their way with you in that moment, you know she wouldn’t be able to overwhelm all three of you. You mildly entertained the thought of tainting the space that belongs to her and tarnish it even further with your bodies on her bed.

But you’re not looking to do that, you just needed to let Mai know that she would never get Touya back.

Well not that she ever had him in the first place but the message was sent regardless.

“Wanna be in our bed.” you whine to them.

No further instructions needed, you leave the party with a quick goodbye to Yumi who gives you a questioning look when she sees you coming from the bedroom hallway but says that she’ll see you later.

Keigo’s place is the closest to reach and it’s all a blur as you’re undressed by both boys and push you on the bed. You’re not quite certain where your body starts and theirs end when they join you, but they fuck you with a sentiment that was completely different than all the other times before. Better than the first threesome, better than when you all rolled together to fuck, it felt different and it felt right.

“Love you, fuck I love you.” Keigo hisses behind you, one hand coming up to hold your throat while the other pets your clit.

“Fuckin’ love you…” Touya whispers, his nails digging light crescent marks into your skin as you squeeze around him.

It was always in the atmosphere but unsaid, not until everyone was ready to voice it out loud.

And you were finally ready to say it back.

“I love you.”

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #tw toxic relationship #us series

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maryannaugerbooks · 3 years

Text

The Beginning of Something Good

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Makeout session

This piece is on AO3, Wattpad and Tumblr.

Océane is the new farmer in Pelican town. She quit her job at Joja Corporation and decided to follow her grandfather's footsteps and take care of Blue Coral, the farm he left her when he passed away.

After her initial shock of seeing the farm in a pitiful condition, she admired the wonderful beach surrounding the cabin she would call home. When she found out her grandfather was leaving her a farm, she didn’t expect it to be a beach farm!

Thankful for not being stuck in an office anymore, the long ash-colored-haired farmer got to work. She watered the crops, explored the mines and spent her afternoons fishing.

She settled into a routine, every day looking slightly different but also very much the same. That is, until that Tuesday evening.

Océane had realized she was out of seeds. She wanted to extend her garden and grow a bigger variety of vegetables but Pierre’s General Store would be closed the next day. Determined to get her seeds so that she could start planting them in the morning, she ran all the way to the store, swung the door open and greeted Pierre with a big wave.

“Hey Pierre. Sorry for coming in right before you close. Can I get some potato and green bean seeds please?”

Pierre handed over the seeds and Océane placed them in her bag. She wanted to get home quickly in order to cut down a couple trees to make more space to till more soil.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the exit. She half-turned around to wave goodbye to Pierre when the wind got knocked out of her.

Before she fell to the ground, a sturdy – and soft – hand grabbed her arm.

At first, she was too shaken to see who she ran into. Then, she regained her senses and saw a young man with long brown hair and mesmerizing green eyes.

Oceane was pretty sure her mouth was still open when the man said “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Elliott. I live in the cabin on the beach.”

She slightly shook her head and said, “Oh. I live on a beach too! How fun.”

She internally cringed at herself. How fun she said mockingly in her head.

Elliott chuckled and it was the most beautiful chuckle she’d ever heard.

Get yourself together. She scolded herself.

“Thanks for... catching me. I’ll see you around.” Océane left the store quickly and walked home, her heart beating fast and her face flushed.

When she got home, the farmer got straight to work. She didn’t want to think about what happened. She was definitely embarrassed but there was something more underneath her bruised ego that she didn’t want to admit.

---

After a few days of mining and fighting monsters - trying to reach the bottom of the damn mines - Océane was tired. Her shoulders were aching. Scratch that, her whole body was aching.

Feeling like she deserved a break, she made her way to the Stardrop Saloon. It was Friday night after all. She was excited to speak to Emily. She hadn’t seen her all week as they were both too busy working.

They became friends soon after her arrival in Pelican Town. They had met when the farmer got to the Saloon on her second day in town, desperate for some food. She had been fishing all morning and afternoon and had forgotten to eat. Her grandfather’s old house didn’t have a kitchen so she had hungrily made her way to the bar for a bite to eat. After ordering, Océane had sat at the bar and Emily and her talked about clothes, the universe and everything in between.

The local bar was booming with the regulars. Océane sat down at her usual spot, the barstool in the middle. Not the one closest to the cash and not the one closest to Shane. She didn’t particularly feel like getting cold remarks from the disheveled young man.

Also, by sitting in that spot – although not the original intention behind sitting there- Océane’s main goal was trying to hide Emily from Clint’s view. He was notorious for sending furtive glances her way all night. Emily was friends with Clint, but the farmer didn’t like him.

“Hey Emily. How’s your night?”

The blue-haired girl who was facing away from the bar cleaning some glass turned around and flashed a bright smile to Océane.

‘’Hey girl. Tonight’s pretty busy but that’s usual for Friday. How was your week? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.’’

Océane brought her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes. ‘’I made a huge fool of myself on Tuesday. I’m still embarrassed.’’

Emily gave her that tell me more look so Océane continued, ‘’On Tuesday I went to Pierre’s to get some seeds and as I was walking towards the door, I turned around to say bye to Pierre and I ran into someone - hard. I think he said his name was Elliott. I had never seen him before.’’

Emily squealed which made Océane shush her. ‘’People are going to hear you!’’

Completely ignoring her friend, Emily subtly nodded in Elliott’s direction with her head. He was sitting at the table near the Jukebox with Leah.

After seeing the one who had made her heart race - from embarrassment, of course - Océane looked at Emily with wide eyes. ‘’Does he come here every Friday? How come I haven’t noticed him before?’’

Emily shrugged, ‘’He’s pretty quiet’’. After a pause she adds, ‘’you could buy him a drink. He likes a strong beer.’’

Appalled, Océane interjected ‘’Why would I do that? I don’t even know him!’’

‘’But he’s cute,’’ Emily said as if that was a good enough reason.

‘’I guess I have nothing to lose. If he rejects me, I’ll just dig a hole and bury myself in it.’’

Emily laughed, ‘’stop being so dramatic and hand him this beer. You’ll thank me later.’’

After staring at the beer for a couple of minutes, contemplating running away, Océane decided to get up and give Elliott the beer before it got warm. No one likes a warm beer.

She awkwardly walked towards his table, her feet feeling heavy. She was suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way she was walking.

When she got to the table, she realized that Leah had left. She was relieved. Océane set the beer on the table and said, ‘’I heard you like a strong beer.’’

He looked at her, surprised. ‘’This is for me? Marvelous!’’

‘’It’s for saving me from further embarrassment on Tuesday.’’ She said nonchalantly even though that’s not quite how she felt.

Elliott took a sip of the beer, licked his lips and motioned her to take a seat.

Her heart felt like it was about to explode in her chest, her face was warm but she kept it cool on the outside. ‘’How’s the beach life treating you?’’

‘’I like it. I moved here so I could get away from the big city and write.’’

‘’That’s why I moved here too. To get away from the big city, I mean. I couldn’t stand working at a desk all day,’’ Océane said, ‘’what do you write about?’’

“I typically write poems but I’m looking for inspiration to write my first novel.” Elliott took another drink. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

Océane’s cheeks got even warmer. “I like romance. It really helps me unwind and it gives me all the feels.”

The writer chuckled, “maybe my novel will be a romance in that case.”

Was he flirting with her?

“I would love to read it when you’re done.” She was genuine. She loved a good book, but she also wanted to see if Elliott was the kind of romantic she imagined him to be. She may or may not have been imagining scenarios between her and the writer as she was tilling the soil, planting her seeds and doing all her other farm work this week.

“It would be an honor to have you read my book,” Elliott responded with a smile.

Océane made to get up, gently pushing her chair away from the table with her hips. “I wish I could talk some more but I should get going, it’s getting late and I have a lot of work to do in the morning.”

“Let me accompany you home.”

Océane stared at the writer with wide eyes. Elliott quickly added, “only if you’d like me to, of course. It’s dark out and...” He hesitated before continuing, “it would be my pleasure to spend more time with you.”

The farmer’s heart started racing but she gave him a big smile before saying, “Sure, I’d love that.”

The cool spring air chilled her skin as they started walking towards the farm. Elliott noticed her rubbing her hands on her arms in an attempt to warm up. She watched as he removed his red jacket and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. His jacket smelled like old books.

They made small talk until they reached the front door of her cabin.

“Thank you for walking me home. I appreciate it,” Océane said. “Hold on a sec, I’ll give you your jacket so you don’t get cold on your way back to the beach.”

She removed the piece of clothing, already missing the warmth of it and the smell of books. Elliott’s gaze was on her as she handed him his jacket, their fingers brushing for longer than necessary.

Océane licked her lips and Elliott’s green eyes seemed mesmerized by the movement. She could tell he wanted to say something but he was hesitating.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this in case you don’t feel the same way, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day at Pierre’s.”

“Me either,” she breathed. He took a hesitant step forward and gave her a searching look. He was waiting for her approval. She looked directly in his eyes and nodded.

Elliott closed the distance between them, lifted his hand to her hair and brushed his lips against hers. Océane felt like she was going to melt on the balcony of her cabin.

She deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. Elliott brushed his tongue against her lips and she opened to give him access.

The wood door of her cabin was now pressing against her back. One of Elliott’s hands braced him against the wood of the cabin while his other hand settled on her waist.

Océane lowered her hands from his neck to his chest, feeling the muscle there before lowering them towards his lower belly. She fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before sliding her fingers underneath feeling the warmth of his skin. Elliott gasped at the touch and Océane smiled against his lips.

His hands explored her curves like he wanted to remember the shape of her forever. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Océane finally allowed her hands to linger dangerously low.

Elliott pulled back, out of breath. “Let me take you out on a date first. Then, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at 6 then,” She winked at him and kissed his cheek before entering her cabin, closing the door and leaning against it, heart racing.

She had a feeling this was the beginning of something good.

#stardew valley #stardew elliott #elliott stardew valley #sv elliott #fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #elliott and farmer #my writing #fanfiction writer

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clouditae · 3 years

Text

Always Find You

Amazing banner maker @ressjeon thank you so much love ♡

Word: 3.9k

Again and again Taehyung has seen you appear before him, and again and again you’re never within his grasp. No matter where you go, what life you live, he’ll always find you.

To @crazy4myself I’m your secret admirer :) I truly hope you like this fic. I know I told you that I had something planned based off everything you told me, but I couldn’t help but write this, and the time crunching is totally my fault because I do not know what planning is lol. But I hope you like it and I really enjoyed our conversations even though school was just kicking my ass lol. Happy Valentine’s Day! ♡

When Taehyung first saw you, he forgot how to breathe.

You stand on the balcony looking out onto the hundreds of knights pledging their lives to your family. He is one of those knights.

Your hair is up in a perfect bun, the crown shining brightly at the top of your head, but your smile—God when you smile it’s like his whole world is brighter than it’s ever been. Your father—the king, is speaking to the crowd below him. He’s loud, encouraging, speaking with so much motivation that he knows His Royal Highness is so well versed in this that there’s no emotion in them anymore.

They’re all sent off to a worthless war and nearly less than half comeback to tell the tale. It’s just an endless cycle until all kingdoms stop fighting for land. It’s a cycle Taehyung happened to be born into. A simple commoner who was chosen to fight for his king.

His eyes avert back to you, watching you as you remain stoic and beautiful. He wonders if he were born into a higher class, would you notice him? Would those mysterious eyes meet his one day? Would you smile his way? Would he be your first pick over the huge line of suitors wanting to take your hand even though he has nothing?

“The kingdom and its people are forever grateful for your heroic actions to protect us!” the king bellows, his hand outstretched towards his knights as if he’s blessing them all before their deaths.

The men yell in response as they march forward, through the gate and towards the enemy line. As he follows, Taehyung manages to get one last glance towards you, your radiant smile sending a chill down his spine. It’s all the encouragement he needs to march forward and fight this damn fight.

Taehyung never made it back home that day.

When Taehyung was a kid, his dad told him the stories of soulmates. A story that when two soulmates meet, their fate is sealed with a kiss. A kiss that binds them together forever. Taehyung always thought that story was ridiculous. A kiss sealing the two?

He thought it was even more ridiculous when his dad added, “When two soulmates do not seal their destiny with a kiss, their life is repeated. When they die, they are reincarnated and are set to find their soulmates once again. This cycle is repeated over and over again until they’re together.”

He would laugh at the story his father always told him until one day he saw you.

You’re wearing a black and white polka dot dress, your small heels clicking against the concrete floor as you run, a book clutched to your chest. You look excited, your eyes shining more brightly than they did when you looked out across the sea of knights ready for war. Taehyung never believed in soulmates until that day. Until that day where he saw you for the second time in his life, a memory he always thought was a dream became his past life.

He wonders where you’re heading. To school maybe? The building is in that general direction. What are you like in class? With that excited look on your face, he’s guessing you’re the first one to raise your hand when the teacher asks a question. The kind of student who writes almost everything down so that you can go over it after class when you’re home. You might be the kind of person who prefers to study and learn new things rather than play with the other kids.

He wishes he can go to school. To see what you’re like personally. Yet he can’t. Taehyung learns what he can from his mom when he’s not working. It seems like in this lifetime, Taehyung has to make ends meet.

Taehyung wants to meet you. He wants to meet the person who may be his soulmate—who he wants to be his soulmate. He’s seen you before, and here you are again… this is fate right?

“Taehyung! Get back to work,” his boss yells, lifting a rock almost twice Taehyung’s size up and onto the wooden barrel.

“Yes Sir,” he calls back, grabbing a rock heavier than his own weight to place into the barrel that is one rock away from breaking.

Would he want to kiss you in this lifetime? In this lifetime where your life is so much better than his? Where you can find a better suitor than him that will take care of you because he’s better than Taehyung? What if you already found someone? Is it too late for him to meet you?

What if you’re not his soulmate, but someone who is sent to make him believe you are? What if in every life he lives, you’re there to torment him?

Soulmates are stupid. They don’t exist—

“Taehyung watch out!”

Soulmates are stupid… right?

When he sees you again, Taehyung learns your name. Y/N.

He’s never heard such a beautiful name in his entire life. Your name makes his heart race, and your voice…

He finally gets to meet you—see you closer than he has before. See the details in your eyes, the way they gleam when you talk about something you love. The way a blush tint crosses your face when you realize you’ve been talking for too long.

You’re perfect.

Everything about you is perfect to him. He wants to be with you already. He’s seen you in so many of his past lives, learning a thing here and there, but now you’re here. Sitting across from him in your yellow dress, your hands clutching onto it as you watch the bottle spin round and round.

Will it land on him? Will today be the day your fates are sealed?

The bottle slows, his heart practically in his throat as the bottle finally comes to a stop. Butterflies erupt in his stomach as he glances up at you from the bottle that is pointing at him. He can see that cute blush tint on your cheeks as you meet his eyes.

He’ll make you happy. He’ll give you everything you want if it means he can see that smile everyday for the rest of his life. He’ll work ten times harder to give you the life you deserve—nothing will stand in his way.

The crowd cheers as the two of you lean towards one another, but their cheers are soon tuned out by the rapid beating of his heart. He can feel your warm breath hitting his lips, your nose brushing against his own.

“The cops are coming!”

He no longer feels your breath against his skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, head hanging low in defeat.

Why is fate toying with him?

Jumping to his feet, Taehyung runs with the crowd of frightened and excited teens up the stairs towards the kitchen and out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard. No cops have entered the backyard yet, so he can just hop a few fences and be in the clear.

“Damn shame you didn’t get that kiss,” Zane says, placing a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder in sympathy. “That would have been one helluva kiss.”

Taehyung sighs, “No kidding.”

“We better leave before the cops show up,” Zane says, running ahead and over the fence with ease.

Of course he makes it look easy. He’s the school’s star athlete, but Taehyung on the other hand…

Getting a running start, Taehyung grabs onto the fence, jumping as high as he can, throwing one leg over the fence. His other leg, on the other hand, hits the fence, causing him to lose his grip and sends him to the ground, landing on his back. Taehyung lets out a low groan, lying still as he regains his ability to breathe.

Zane leans over him, a smug grin plastered on his damn face. “For someone who fights a lot, you sure don’t know how to land on your feet.”

“Shut the hell up,” Taehyung mutters, taking Zane’s extended hand as he gets up. The sound of sirens are loud and clear, yelling is faint but there.

“Put that stamina to good use, Tae,” Zane says before taking off.

Taehyung got away like usual. With how often he’s had run ins with the police, he might as well be an expert in getaways. That’s no life he should be living if this is the life he completes with you. He needs to do better—be better for you.

Tossing the extinguished cigarette along with the pile, Taehyung walks past the library building with a direction in mind. If you’re not in the library like he originally thought, that means you’re somewhere on campus chatting with your friends or alone, letting the warm rays of sun keep you warm on this breezy day.

Rounding the corner, Taehyung stops dead in his tracks, his heart dropping to his stomach. Zane breaks the kiss, a familiar blush tint gracing its presence across your face as you look down in embarrassment. Zane grins as he caresses your cheek—the cheek that only Taehyung is meant to touch.

Once again, you’re taken away from him.

“So it’s a date then?” Zane asks, his tone full of pride it makes Taehyung sick. What pride does he get out of this for taking someone else’s soulmate away from them?

“It’s a date,” you mutter, the smallest smile showing on your lips.

Taehyung doesn’t stick around to see your lips meet Zane’s again. He doesn’t stick around for the next class to start.

He’s tired.

He’s tired of being born over and over again. He’s tired of seeing you within his grasp only to be taken away from him. He’s tired of going through family after family—each family slowly being forgotten—so many memories blurring together that he doesn’t know which parent belongs to which life.

But he knows one thing. His dad is a liar. Whichever one told him of soulmates is a liar. They’re not real. Having a soulmate is bull shit. There’s no binding, no happily ever after. Everything is a lie. The only thing Taehyung is living a life where he sees the one person he believes to be his soulmate taunt him with the idea of being together.

“Damnit,” he cries, furiously wiping away the tears that never seem to stop falling.

He wants to be happy, why is that so hard to ask for?

Taehyung feels the warm rays of the sun warm his face, the sounds of people chatting, and a few birds chirping as he slowly begins to wake up. He wonders how long he’s been sleeping. A few minutes? Hours? Either way, after a whole day of cram studying, that rest was definitely needed.

He opens his eyes to a slit, shutting them close from the bright sun. He sits up, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his eyes of sleep. “Morning, sunshine,” a voice next to him says as he turns to look at the figure.

You don’t bother looking at him as your eyes travel from your textbook to your notes. “How long was I out?” he asks you in a gravelly tone.

“Not sure. I’ve been here for about fifteen minutes, so more than that,” you answer, flipping to the next page to continue your notes. Taehyung rests his chin on his hand, watching you work diligently.

He wonders how much longer fate will toy with him. Life after life he’s watching you slip through his fingers. He’s tried different approaches to getting you, and each attempt was a joke. Heartache after heartache.

This time… he could just laugh at how fucked up fate is.

In this life, Taehyung grew up to be your best friend since the two of you were infants. Your mom has been friends with his mom since they were in college. The two of you are inseparable. Wherever you go, he’s right behind you. Taehyung has been with you through it all. From when you lost your favorite toy, to your first ever heartache. Everything you’ve been through, and you’re still a fighter.

He admires you and in love with you. There’s the smallest chance that this life will be his last. Maybe he’ll finally be your soulmate like he’s meant to be. He wants to—oh how he wants to be.

“What are you staring at?” you ask, bringing him out of his thoughts.

He blinks a few times, watching you stare at him with curious eyes. “Do you believe in soulmates?” he finally questions.

You frown in confusion. “Soulmates? Where’d that come from?”

He shrugs, dropping his hand from his chin and leans back in his seat. “Just curious.”

You don’t remember him. In all your lives you two have had, never once did you recognize him. He wonders, if you remembered, would you kiss him? Would things change if you remembered?

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking about his question, eyes drifting off somewhere he believes is your own world. You tap your pencil against your notebook, the small beat matching his heart. “I do,” you begin, setting your pencil down, “I believe you can have multiple soulmates in your life. Sometimes you can look at a stranger and just know they’re going to be very important to you in the near future, and I love moments like that.” You look to him again. “I think you’re my twin flame,” you add, that adorable blush gracing your cheeks.

“Twin flame?” he questions. What’s a twin flame? Why are you blushing? Is it embarrassing? What the hell is a twin flame?

“Well would you look at the time,” you start, suddenly changing the subject, “I’m gonna be late for class if I don’t leave now.” He watches you rise from your seat, collecting your belongings as you rush to leave.

“You can’t just leave without telling me what a twin flame is, Y/N,” he tells you, trying to grab something of yours so that you don’t leave, but you’re quicker than he is. “Why were you blushing? Is it something embarrassing? What does it mean,” he complains, watching you leave him alone at the table. “Y/N!” he calls, groaning when you don’t turn around.

He never got you to explain what a twin flame is, and it slips his mind to just look it up. It’s not that hard for him to get easily distracted by you. Especially when he’s head over heels in love with you.

You leap onto his back with little time for him to catch you. You wrap your arms around his neck as you nestle your head on his shoulder. “Thanks for walking me home, Tae,” you tell him.

“I think you mean ride,” he corrects, hoisting you higher so that he has a better hold of you.

You giggle in response before going silent. Nothing is said between the two of you as Taehyung walks the two of you towards your house. He feels you grip him a little tighter before breaking the silence, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

Taehyung almost stops in his tracks, but he manages to keep going, never showing a small change in his pace. If you knew the lives he’s lived, the different ways he’s met you…

“I want to,” he answers.

“What’s keeping you from believing?”

He’s quiet for a moment. How does he tell you it’s because every time he sees you, you don’t see him? How does he tell you that he’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and that every life you two have lived, you were never his?

“What if in our past lives, we were never soulmates? What if we crossed paths, but never met the way we are supposed to?” Taehyung looks left then right before crossing the street. “There’s no real sign in knowing who your soulmate is.”

You hum in response, but that hum tells him that you think differently and that you’re about to tell him he’s wrong. And he’s right because you say, “I think if you’ve met your soulmate in your past lives, then they are your soulmate. It just wasn’t the time to be with them. Fate is just waiting for that perfect moment before you two find each other again.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You and I are completely different, Y/N.”

You giggle as he helps you down from his back, the two of you stand in front of your house. “Everyone has a soulmate, Tae.” You dig in your bag for your keys, looking through each key for your house key. “And as my twin, you’ll always find me, right?” You look up to meet his gaze.

He frowns in slight confusion, but answers, “I’ll always find you.”

You smile at him, and the world around him seems to stop. “I’m glad to hear that.”

A few days have passed since Taehyung last saw you. You told him you’ll be busy with an assignment that’s due this Sunday, so Taehyung agrees to let you have your space.

It’s Sunday and Taehyung is sitting at the usual meeting spot on campus. He’s surprised there are quite a lot of people on campus when it’s a Sunday and Valentine’s Day to be exact. It’s the day of love, a day Taehyung has experienced way too many times.

He stares off in the direction you should be coming from, complete boredom etched onto his face as he waits for you. You better get an A if you’re making him wait for you on campus...on a weekend. As he begins to close his eyes, a shadowed figure appears in his peripheral. Taehyung turns in the direction of the figure to see a familiar face. A familiar face with no name coming to mind.

“Hey, I thought I’d find you here,” she says, twirling her blonde hair with her fingers.

“Ah, yeah. Just waiting for Y/N,” he replies. What is her name?

She nods. “Then we have time to talk real quick before Y/N gets here.”

Taehyung gestures to the seat across from him. “What’s up?”

The blonde takes the offer and sits across from Taehyung, looking nervous suddenly. “We’ve known each other for a while, and during that time we’ve known each other, you’ve been a great guy. You’re kind, funny, very good looking”—there’s no way this is going where he thinks it’s going—”and during that time, I’ve grown to have feelings for you.” She fidgets in her seat like some lovesick teenager. “I really like you and I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime,” she rushes, looking down then back up to Taehyung.

This is a first. In all his lives, no one has ever confessed their feelings towards him.

“Um.” He clears his throat. “I’m flattered, but there’s someone else I’ve been chasing my entire life.”

“Oh,” she mutters, looking dejected as she looks down. “She’s a lucky girl.”

Taehyung wants to laugh. If only she knew.

Another fifteen minutes go by and he grows tired of waiting for you. Grabbing his phone, Taehyung begins his search for you at the building you said you would be at. He searches high and low, but you’re not there.

Where the hell are you?

Thinking of all the places you can be, Taehyung begins his search all over campus. It takes him almost half an hour of searching when he finally finds you. His anger is on a whole new level when he reaches you.

Your back is to him, but he finds you sitting on a bench practically at the edge of campus. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been looking for you for half an hour, Y/N,” Taehyung says, frustration clearly evident in his tone.

You jump from the sudden break in silence. You don’t turn around to look at him, so he goes to take a seat across from you, but when he sees you, his anger is gone and is replaced with concern and confusion. “Have you been crying?”

“No,” you lie.

“Y/N,” he begins, waiting for your gaze to meet his, “I’ve known you for our entire lives. I know when you’ve been crying. Did you get a bad grade on your assignment?” he asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’m surprised you found me,” you confess, trying to change the subject.

Taehyung isn’t having it. “I told you I’ll always find you. So you failed and that’s why you’re crying?”

You sniffle and scoff, “I wish that was it.”

Taehyung sighs in slight frustration. “Then what is it?” You’re silent for a while, avoiding his gaze. “Y/N,” he says more firmly. He’s not playing these games today.

You groan in your own frustration. “It’s this stupid guy,” you finally answer.

Taehyung wants to leave. Of course it is. Of course fate isn’t done playing with him.

“What? Did he reject you on Valentine’s Day? Should I go kick his ass?” Fuck fate. Fuck soulmates. Fuck all of this!

“If you can kick your own ass then go right ahead,” you reply in an aggrieved tone.

Taehyung is frozen, your words not registering in his head. “What?”

“Oh my God”—you jump to your feet in pure frustration—”it’s you! You’re the stupid guy!”

Taehyung rises to his feet as well. “Me? What’d I do?” What the hell are you talking about?

“I sometimes wonder how you can be so oblivious, or maybe I’m not good at showing how I feel.” You run a hand through your hair, that familiar tint of blush growing on your face. “I’m in love with you, Tae—hell, I think I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. But then I saw Stasia with you, and I heard her asking you out and-and I just couldn’t stand by and watch another person try and win you over when I’ve been standing beside you for years!”

It’s like everything fell of deaf ears after he heard the word “love”. You’re in love with him. You love him. Is this a joke? It can’t be right? Because after what felt like hundreds of lives—life after life of just chasing you, has he finally caught up with you? Is this it?

“—I mean she’s beautiful and funny and talented. I would go out with her, too, if i were you. Anyone would be lucky—”

In a few quick strides, Taehyung is in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks and bringing your face up to look at him. There’s a look of shock on your face, but he can’t hold back any longer. He brings his lips to yours, and after a few seconds, you kiss him back.

Taehyung had always wondered if soulmates are real. He always wondered if kissing your soulmate would bind two people together. He always thought it was a tale, but as he kisses you, he feels like the clock within him finally begins to tick. Like his life is finally beginning. His life with you is beginning. No more being reborn. No more chasing.

He finally caught up to you.

Tears stream down Taehyung's face as you break the kiss. "What's wrong?" you ask with worry in your tone.

Taehyung shakes his head, opening his eyes to meet yours. "I've waited so long for you."

You give him a small smile, wiping away the tears. "I'm sorry it took me so long." He shakes his head again and kisses you. It doesn't matter how long he'd have to wait.

If it's you, he'll wait a lifetime.

166 notes · View notes

house-of-cakes · 3 years

Photo

Jamais Vu

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prev || Next Chapter 22: And I Oop! 🤭 Jungkook x Reader: enemy to lovers AU

Word count: 1739

Warnings: Swearing, an over confident douchebag and Y/N and JK are major teases Premise: “There’s an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It’s when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger… Nothing is ever familiar” – Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

AKA Jungkook goes in search of the girl who got him expelled.

It’s embarrassing how long this chapter took me to write 🤦‍♀️ If you would like to give feedback or be tagged in this story please send me an ask/message 😊 Tagged list: @inspinkyring @betysotelo18 @kardia-apo-marmelada @casspirit0705 @preciouschimine @therealsugababe @lucedelsole97 @deolly @lexy9716 @thesweetest-peas @sannsia

STORY CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT

A large group of excitable females crowded one end of the bar as the man behind it took two bottles and spun it around with dramatic flare before pouring a generous amount of alcohol into a shaker. Squeals of delight erupted from the crowd as he threw a handful of ice cubes into the air and successfully caught them all behind his back. He finished off the flashy routine by placing the shaker top back on the canister and entertain his audience one final time by dancing in body rolls while he shook up his concoction.

“Who’s thirsty?” He yelled out and in an instant the females grew feral with enthusiasm as they pushed and shoved each other, trying to be the first person to gain his attention.

Y/N observed the scene from the other side of the bar as she waited for her turn to be served. A girl with fire engine red hair managed to wrestle her competitors off and secured the position at the front of the bar. She patiently stood before him, hoping her pleading eyes was enough for him to convince him to invite her for a drink.

Y/N’s nose crinkled in distaste. While she didn’t know the red head by name (she went by the name Red), she had seen the girl around the Basement and knew enough to know she deserved better than him.

“I’m absolutely parched.” Her tone was slow and drawn out in attempts to sound sultry.

Y/N couldn’t contain the fake gagging noise she made. In her eyes the scenario was completely cringeworthy…maybe Red did deserve him.

‘I wouldn’t be caught dead chasing a guy like BeatBox Jae.’ She thought to herself.

Unfortunately, the sound she had made was loud enough to catch Jae’s attention.

An overwhelming amount of excitement welled in his chest when he realised he had the Kim Y/N in his sights. He turned his attention back to Red and gave her the most charming smile as he could muster as he made another big show of slowly pouring out two drinks.

“Sorry, bar’s closed.” He said with no hint of remorse then picked up the drinks and made his way over to Y/N, leaving the humiliation to sink in with poor Red.

“Here.” Jae said as he set the frosty martini glass in front of Y/N “I made you a drink, Beautiful.”

Y/N scoffed in his face and pushed the drink to the side, her blatant act of rejection did not even damper his mood.

“You’re an asshole you know, right? I can’t believe you did that to her!”

Jae nonchalantly shrugged off the comment as he took a sip from his drink. He didn’t care about the feelings or problems of others…if he wanted something, he knew that as the Maknae of The Basement Boys there wasn’t much that was unattainable by him. With a face that looked like it was carved by angels and an ego that was extensively fed his adoring fans of guys and girls…Jae was a lethal combination of charisma and arrogance.

It was exactly this attitude that repelled Y/N from him. “Don’t be like, Beautiful…let me take you out on a date and show you how much I like you.” “Oh really?” Y/N leant forward so that elbows were resting on the bar and cupped her face in her hands, making sure to looked up at him from under her long lashes with a cute pout. “Tell me three things you like.”

Y/N was never discreet about her dislike towards Jae which only made him want her more. The fact that she was now showing genuine interest, made Jae feel like he was finally getting a head in a race he was lagging in.

“That’s easy… You’re hot as hell.” He said with enthusiasm and raised his hand so he could count the reasons as he listed them off “…cute too and the most gorgeous thing in the world.” He grinned proudly to himself, feeling satisfied that he answered the question well.

“Is that all?” “You only asked for three…did you want me to say super sexy too?” His response was smug

Y/N had to force a smile to hide her grimace. Of course the only traits he favoured were those of her appearance. She knew better than to ask those kinds of questions, especially to someone like Jae but once in a while she had the unstoppable urge to remind herself that men were trash.

“Sorry I don’t date guys who fuck around while they have girlfriends.” Y/N pulled herself of the bar and broke the illusion of interest she had Jae under. Though her abrupt change of attuite was enough to give him whiplash he was able to recover quickly.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Beautiful.” “That’s not how I see it.” The tension grew thick in the air as they stared each other down.

For regulars of The Basement, it was common knowledge that Jae was one to sleep around. However, with her sharp observation skills as The Shopkeeper, Y/N was able to piece together his hidden shame. From what she could piece together it seemed that only the members of The Basement Boys were aware of this convoluted secret and the matter was kept within the crew.

“Don’t be silly Beautiful.” Jae was the first to speak, breaking the tension by playfully ruffling her hair and returning back to his same jovial self “Besides if anyone has to worry about significant others it should be me…your boyfriend has been giving us death glares.” “What?” Y/N asked trying to figure out who in the world he was talking about. Nods his head in the direction behind her before revealing who he is talking about. “SeokJin’s big buff cousin over there.” she turned around spotted a Jungkook looking disgruntled standing a few people back in the line for the bar. Their eyes met briefly before he turned the other way, pretending he wasn’t watching Y/N. “That’s not my boyfriend.” she said rolling her eyes “He’s just angry because he’s a sore loser.” “Thank God.” Jae exclaims as he clutches his chest overdramatically “I thought I had competition for a second.” “You don’t have to worry about that.” Y/N reassures him with a smirk “You actually act to be in the race to have competition.” She cheekily blows him a kiss and leaves him, no longer interested in getting a drink.

Y/N was well aware of the type of person Jae was, so never in a million years would she fall victim to his charms. If anything, she found it enjoyable to shut him down.

‘That should take him down a notch.’ She thought to herself

Jungkook was still facing away from Y/N as she drew closer to passing him on her way back to the balcony, she had every intention to walk by and ignore his existence and yet she had the unstoppable desire to mess with him too. Still high off her interaction with Jae, her body moved on its own accord and before she knew it her body was crashing into his as she purposely tripped herself. As if on instinct Jungkook was quick to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from falling.

“If you wanted me in your arms, all you had to do was ask…there’s not need to trip me over” Jungkook’s eyes widen at her accusation which caused her to chuckle. His arms dropped from around her and he stepped back to create space between them “I don’t blame you though…I am pretty irresistible in my new shirt.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He spat out in disgust “I don’t want anything to do with you, especially after I saw you help humiliate that red headed girl.” “Um…Sorry what?” Y/N’s mouth hung open in disbelief, he didn’t really believe she had anything to do with that? “Don’t act like you weren’t involved in that. I bet you couldn’t handle not being the center of attention for once, that’s why you called that bartender over to you.” “Excuse you? I’m not sure what you saw there but you must really have your head up your ass if you think that I had anything to do with that.” “Oh pah-lease!” Jungkook’s arms were crossed defensively “You might have everyone fooled but I see you for who you are… you’re nothing more than a spoilt princess!”

‘A spoilt princess?’

That comment really struck a nerve with Y/N. She had been called many unfavourable things in her lifetime and she had never been offended because to some degree the things they said were true so it never bothered her…she felt there was no point in getting upset with the truth, she accepted every aspect of herself - whether it be good or bad. However to be called a princess and a spoilt princess at that really pushed all the wrong buttons within her.

Y/N refused to conform to her mother’s notions of the importance of beauty and the concept of using her physical attributes to have things handed to her. Y/N valued independence, intelligence and hard work…to have this stranger discredit her like that was deeply insulting to her.

“Look here you jerkfaced asshole.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she scowled up at the tall male towering above her. “Maybe if you were a better competitor, you’d be able to win once in a while and then you wouldn’t have to take your passive aggression out on me.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the grin that had taken over his face, even when Y/N was losing against him she had always managed to keep her emotions in check. This is the first time he had seen her flustered and openly frustrated…He enjoyed seeing her lose her composure.

“Whatever you say…” Jungkook closed the distance between them so that he could lean closer to her “…Princess”

Y/N stiffened when she heard his smooth husky voice whisper in her ear, stirring an unfamiliar feeling of anticipation and delight within her. Those feelings quickly turned to repulsion when her brain had finally caught up to her and realised who she had been talking to. She let out a sound of disgust and pushed him away from her.

“Go fuck yourself, Asshole!” she spat before turning to leave him.

Jungkook watched Y/N storm off as he buzzing with satisfaction of knowing he had be the one to get under her skin for once.

64 notes · View notes

thinkingisadangerouspastime · 3 years

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hi! random question that you’re not obligated to answer (i just love your ka metas): do you think that aang acted like he was entitled to katara’s affection? sorry for the bother if this is a question you’ve gotten before, i’m just curious about your thoughts

Hi anon! It’s always lovely to hear people like my metas 💛 And you’re in luck - I have not gotten this specific question before, though I have answered similar questions, and as such I will probably link those posts throughout.

Forewarning: I use the general you very liberally in this post, so like. It’s not directed at you, anon djhskdjsajs I don’t want you think my sarcasm is in response to your ask (your ask was very lovely!! 💕)

Okay. Let’s get started! The funniest thing about the (nonsensical) claim that Aang acted “entitled” to Katara’s affection is that there is no canon evidence to support it. Opponents more often than not can only bring up one (1) episode as an example of supposed “entitlement” because no other Kataang interactions in the series demonstrate entitlement from either end! Like, wow. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. And I’m sure we all know what episode opponents love to propagate, don’t we?

Yep, you guessed it: “The Ember Island Players.”

From the get-go, the fact that people who vigorously oppose Kataang essentially only appeal to the contents of one episode for Aang’s supposed “entitlement” is a major indicator that, in fact, the entitlement is not truly there, and that those opponents are actually misconstruing the entire episode. I mean, if you are trying to make an argument about something but you only have one piece of “evidence” to support your claim, then a) any half-decent teacher/professor would fail you, rip and b) that’s a sign that maybe your claim doesn’t hold water. If you can’t find evidence to support it, then you’re probably looking at your case from the wrong angle. Analysis 101.

As such, I find the “entitlement” claim particularly ridiculous because opponents repeat the same faulty rhetoric over and over! The only people that might be convinced are those with confirmation bias. I’m sure that’s their audience, of course, but it’s still hilarious dfjaksdasks.

Anyways. Here’s the excerpt from the EIP transcript that opponents l o v e to spotlight with their “entitlement” claims:

Aang: Katara, did you really mean what you said in there?

Katara: In where? What are you talking about?

Aang: On stage, when you said I was just like a… brother to you, and you didn’t have feelings for me.

Katara: I didn’t say that. An actor said that.

Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.

Katara: Aang, I don’t know.

Aang: Why don’t you know?

Katara: Because, we’re in the middle of a war, and we have other things to worry about. This isn’t the right time.

Aang: Well, when is the right time?

Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.

Aang tries to kiss Katara.

Katara: I just said I was confused! I’m going inside. [Exits the balcony.]

Aang: Ugh, I’m such an idiot! [Puts down his head on the balcony railing.]

Opponents claim Aang’s behavior is “entitled” here for two reasons:

1) He asks Katara several questions about their relationship status.

2) He kisses her.

Before I get too far into this, we have to consider the context of the episode. Katara and Aang have this conversation after just watching 95% of “The Boy in the Iceberg,” aka Fire Nation propaganda. I have talked about the specifics of the play being imperialist propaganda here, but the gist of it is that this play is meant to demean the Gaang, to portray them as lesser and weaker than the Fire Nation. The fact that the play ends with Ozai’s victory is a stark reminder of this mentality. So: Katara and Aang have just watched this play that preys upon their insecurities and paints them as awful caricatures of their true selves. It is only natural that they would be more tense than usual. The reason I bring this up is solely to inform their conversation on the balcony, however; I don’t think their frustration solely defines what they say/do, but it’s worth keeping in mind, “Hey, they’re stressed and upset, of course this conversation might not go perfectly.”

Now, I have talked about the infamous EIP kiss before and approached all the rhetoric surrounding it like Snopes Fact Checker in this post, lmao. I did discuss in there why the kiss is wrong, which no one has ever argued against, but also why the kiss is simply a mistake: not sexual assault, not entitlement, not an unforgivable decision. I’ve copied and pasted specifically my notes on the “entitlement” claim below regarding the kiss, but if you have time, I definitely recommend the whole post jksdhjasdka (I’m quite proud of it). Anyways! Here’s the excerpt:

Claim: Aang acted entitled to Katara and her affection.

Status: False.

I’ve briefly addressed this already, but Aang backing off when Katara pushed him away is the exact opposite of entitlement. An impromptu kiss is not always indicative of entitlement. It can be, especially if the person being kissed has never expressed any interest in the person kissing them, but Katara and Aang were mutually interested in each other. They’d mutually kissed twice already by that point: in CoTL and during DoBS. The EIP kiss was inappropriate. NO ONE HAS EVER SUGGESTED OTHERWISE. But when you’re 12 and you’re already kind of in this semi-relationship with a girl you’ve been through hell and high water with (who has kissed you twice on the lips and on the cheek multiple times, not to mention it is only you she ever expresses such affection towards), it is not fucking “entitlement” to make a move on her, even when the timing is off. IT’S JUST A MISTAKE. A POOR DECISION. NOT ENTITLEMENT. NOT MANIPULATION. NOT SEXUAL ASSAULT. Full stop.

Also, these EIP people love to call Aang entitled for this kiss, but there isn’t a single peep heard from them about Zuko’s line in TSR where he demands to know what’s “wrong” with Katara, since she hasn’t forgiven him yet when everyone else has. And look. I think Zuko was just frustrated here, and that he, too, made a mistake and is obviously not irredeemable for it, but. If you’re going to argue that Aang was entitled in EIP, you’d better be ready to acknowledge the argument that Zuko was acting entitled in TSR, too. And hell, let’s take it a step further! Call Aang entitled for EIP. Call Zuko entitled for TSR. Call Sokka entitled for choosing to stay at Boiling Rock on the off chance his father would arrive, thus making Suki and Zuko feel obligated to stay behind with him, effectively putting all of them in danger. What an entitled decision, risking his friends’ lives on the 0.01% chance Hakoda would be one of the many, many possible war prisoners arriving at Boiling Rock!

Damn. That sounds ridiculous as fuck, doesn’t it?

And guess what. That’s exactly how the “Aang was entitled” arguments come across. Hate to break it to you. Trust me when I say to do yourself a favor and stop perpetuating that faulty rhetoric!

So that is what I have already assessed, lol.

To be frank, the most frustrating thing I see perpetuated is that the EIP kiss somehow ruined Aang and Katara’s relationship. But when it comes to assessing weighty issues like the notion of “entitlement” in a relationship, the fact of the matter is that you have to look at both the relationship as a whole and the context in which it is situated. Opponents never want to do that, because doing so debunks their entire (baseless) argument, lmao. Katara and Aang are best friends. And by EIP, they have both expressed romantic interest in each other multiple times. (Here is a post explaining the development of Katara’s feelings for Aang, just to put out that fire before anyone sets it lmao.)

So why, why do opponents think Katara would never find it in herself to forgive Aang for a mistaken kiss? Katara is shown over and over again throughout the series to have one of the biggest hearts. She wants to see the good in people. That’s why she gives Jet a second chance (even though a person could argue he did not “deserve” one); that’s why she helps the Fire Nation village in “The Painted Lady”; that’s why she forgives Pakku (once she sees he’s willing to change); that’s why she is the second person in the entire show (excluding Iroh) to offer Zuko a hand of kindness (in CoD)! That’s why she eventually forgives Zuko, even after all he has done to the Gaang (e.g. sending an assassin after them, being complicit in Aang’s death, attacking her and kidnapping Aang at the NWT, manipulating her with her mother’s necklace, to name a few, lmao. bless his heart, but like Jet, someone could easily argue Zuko doesn’t “deserve” another chance - and yet Katara still gave him [and Jet] one. in fact, she gave Zuko multiple).

In other words, Katara is almost always willing to extend friendship and compassion and forgiveness to others - why would she revoke that privilege from Aang after a single error that is comparatively lesser to all the other horrible things she’s experienced in the war? Again, I’m not downplaying how terrible of a decision Aang made. It’s inexcusable. But it’s not the end of the world, and considering the context of the show (e.g. Aang and Katara liked each other and they both knew it), it’s… not some heinous crime. Compared to, oh, how about attempted murder? lmaoo

Even beyond Katara’s innate kindness, Aang is Katara’s best friend. She loves him. The show portrays it as romantic through the seasons, but even if someone isn’t into shipping (which is super valid), Katara and Aang’s connection is one of the primary lynchpins of the show! (The other being Aang and Zuko, the greatest foils of all time.) Katara and Aang epitomize several of A:TLA’s thematics (and aesthetics) because they are complementary: yin and yang, push and pull, Tui and La, moon and ocean, blue and orange, water and air. This gifset and related commentary beautifully demonstrate how even when Katara and Aang disagree, they respect the other’s the decision. So after 60~ episodes depicting Aang and Katara as having mutual respect and love for each other in every form as well as emphasizing Katara’s natural inclination towards kindness/giving people the benefit of the doubt, opponents still think Katara wouldn’t forgive Aang because of one mistimed, inappropriate kiss? What?? Make it make sense, lmao.

In sum, the kiss was a mistake, not an act of entitlement, and it’s absurd to think Katara would hold that against Aang for the rest of his life.

To backtrack a bit, opponents also love to use the fact that Aang asked Katara several questions about their relationship status as examples of his “entitlement.” Just typing that out highlights the ridiculous nature of this assertion, lmao! Let me rephrase it for maximum hilarity:

“Aang was unsure about where their relationship stood? Well, how dare he ask numerous questions to resolve his confusion!”

Like, what was the alternative jskfajksdas if you are in relationship limbo with someone, it is far better to ask them ‘too many’ questions for clarification than to simply assume one way or the other! Kissing Katara was wrong, flat-out, but asking her questions to better understand where they were in their relationship was like. exactly the right decision, lmao. I genuinely don’t see how that could be indicative of entitlement? Especially because, once again, Aang and Katara both like each other and they both know that by this point in the show. That’s why Aang doesn’t ask if Katara likes him - he knows she does. That’s why Katara doesn’t negate her feelings - she knows she’s interested in him, and the blockade between them is not a lack of reciprocation, but the fact that they’re “in the middle of a war” and consequently it’s not “the right time” for them to begin a relationship. Katara has seen Aang die before! She knows he’s facing a near-impossible victory! I can’t blame her for not wanting to start a relationship with him at that point. It would hurt twice as much to lose him again if they were together in a romantic fashion (amatonormativity, am I right?). Again, Aang’s kiss was entirely inappropriate, but him asking her questions about their relationship is a) an example of fostering healthy communication and b) what any therapist would encourage, lol.

Oh, but I’m “forgetting” something, aren’t I? Right. This line:

Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.

If we want to talk about parallels, which I know the A:TLA fandom adores, this line sounds suspiciously like:

Yue: … but I like you [Sokka] too much and it’s too confusing to be around you.

Yue and Katara are actually in similar situations here. Outside forces are interfering with their relationships; for Yue, there is her arranged marriage, and for Katara, it’s the life-or-death nature of the war itself. They aren’t confused about their feelings, as Yue knows she likes Sokka and Katara knows she likes Aang, but they are confused about how to reconcile those feelings with their external circumstances. And can you blame them for that? They are facing impossible decisions (the fate of their nation and the fate of the world respectively). I would be confused, too! So Katara’s response isn’t a reaction to any so-called “entitlement” from Aang; she is experiencing genuine confusion about how to approach her own feelings for him in the midst of a war.

In sum, Aang asking questions about their relationship was a logical step to take resolving his confusion and is in no way related to “entitlement.” Katara’s confusion was not “letting Aang down easy” and interpreting it as such requires disregarding every preceding line of the conversation and its context.

As you can see, Aang’s actions in EIP are not at all “entitled.” His questions were understandable. While his kiss was inappropriate and inexcusable, it was also a mistake, and there is no canon evidence to support the conclusion Katara would never be able to forgive him (her literal best friend!) for it.

Before I end, I’ll touch briefly upon the DotBS kiss, because it is also occasionally used as an example of Aang’s “entitlement” towards Katara’s feelings. Whether you like the trope or not, this moment falls under what is called the “Now or Never Kiss.” TV Tropes actually lists Kataang/DotBS as an example under the Western Animation tab:

“Avatar: The Last Airbender: The fact that he’s finally going to face the dreaded Firelord, and possibility that he might not come back alive from that battle, gives Aang enough motivation to kiss Katara.”

Again, whether you like the trope or not, it involves reciprocation from both parties:

“The Not-A-Couple [i.e. both parties] don’t want to go out without revealing how they [i.e. both parties] really feel. It’s now or never. They kiss.”

Katara and Aang both like each other. When Aang initiates the DotBS kiss, Katara kisses him back. Her lips are still puckered when he pulls away. Furthermore, Katara had initiated a kiss with Aang prior to this incident, in CoTL. Katara was also the one to initiate every cheek kiss with Aang (who is the only character she ever demonstrated such affection towards). So Aang kissing Katara during DotBS follows an established precedent of Katara initiating different kisses, romantically inclined, with Aang. It’s not entitlement; it’s him knowing they mutually like each other and him realizing this might be the last time he ever sees her. Again, you can hate the trope, but don’t blatantly misconstrue its meaning. You’ll sound like Fire Nation propaganda, lmao. (For clarification, jic: the general you. not anon!)

Here is a fantastic post by @imreallyhereforkataang explaining the DotBS kiss in more detail as well as discussing why Kataang’s progression in the second half of Book 3 was, in fact, well-developed, and how Katara and Aang are best friends above all else and know that (which was the core of their relationship from the start).

And a bonus fun fact: in the original storyboard (link takes you to storyboarder Giancarlo Volpe’s DeviantArt with said storyboard), it is noted that Katara smiles after Aang kisses her. Why? Because she likes him as much as he likes her! It was changed by a “higher authority,” according to Volpe, probably to add more realism to the romance (i.e. Katara likes Aang, yes, but as she herself points out in EIP - there’s a war going on, and love is always terrifying to reconcile with war).

(Seriously, though, do read Volpe’s description on the storyboard. Takes you a second to scroll down and maybe a minute to read. Short yet informative, discussing how you can see on the storyboard itself that someone revised the image so Katara isn’t smiling after the kiss.)

Anyways! Opponents’ argument that Katara wasn’t interested in Aang therefore is and has always been entirely inapplicable.

To conclude: the entitlement assertion is laughable. There is no canon evidence to support it. As such, I encourage you to laugh whenever you see it! Pull an Azula, for that matter:

[ID: Gif from “The Beach” episode of A:TLA. Ty Lee, mimicking a guy, asks Azula, “Hey there sweet sugar cakes. How ya likin’ this party?” Azula proceeds to burst into exaggerated laughter, earning stares from everyone else at the party. End ID.]

Thank you for the great ask, anon! Hopefully my response was satisfactory 💛

#surprise friends!! a kataang analysis!! i probably will not write any others until may 💀#kataang #kataangtag #aang #katara #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #amy answers #anon #amy analyzes

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 3 years

Text

Novalunosis

[n.] the state of relaxation and wonderment experienced while gazing upon the stars.

For @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, my first one! And this picture is gorgeous.

Pairing: Din Djarin x female oc (no name/features are mentioned)

Warnings: uh, don't jump off balconies into water please? Fluff, angst-ish, idk what I'm doing.

A/N: Takes place before the show.I don't know how the Force works? *waves hands* Fanfic! My first time writing for Din and Star Wars in general. Also, punctuation? Don't know her.

There's a vaguely familiar silhouette standing behind the gauzy curtain across the room. A room Din doesn't recall entering, which should put him on high alert but he finds that the adrenaline doesn't come rushing. Nothing about this room with walls the color of soft sunlight and warmth in the lines of its decoration sets him on edge.

If anything, he relaxes where he sits on the edge of the bed. Looking down he finds a muted green blanket and crisp white sheets tucked neatly around the mattress beneath him. Gloved fingers run over the slight sheen of the top layer, wondering how he could dream up something he's never seen before.

These dreams, and the figure across the room, find him when he sleeps. Not often enough that he expects them but with a frequency that puzzles him when he lets it. Nothing ever the same twice, nothing except for her.

"I think I was here with my parents once, when I was little" the voice reaches his ears like there isn't a barrier of beskar between the two and he has to reach up to feel for it, just to be sure.

The figure chuckles, pushing the curtain out of the way to smile at him. Having a smile offered to him, for him, is not a regular occurrence for the Mandalorian but still, it's nothing he seems to need to be wary of if the warmth uncurling in his chest is to be trusted.

The woman is barefoot, pale blue pants fitted with pockets at every chance with a well worn, cream colored shirt tucked haphazardly into the high waist line. Her arms are bare, scars on them visible from where he sits.

Her face is happy but expectant, eyes trained on him. Definitely familiar. A name floats somewhere in his head but he can't quite reel it in, even as she walks over to sit down beside him, one leg tucked under the other as she faces him.

She's close, knee brushing his thigh as she settles comfortably. Din knows her, she obviously knows him. How is the only mystery.

"Are we dreaming?" he asks, helmet turned in her direction, the use of 'we' coming out before he can comprehend it.

"Yeah, the first one in a while" she nods.

"How?"

"You always ask that."

"Should I not?" his tone is less than cordial but he's confused yet unconcerned at the same time and it is frustrating.

"Din, I know you, and I know the scar on your right hand palm because I put it there" as casually as she speaks his name, she tugs on the glove of his hand, arching a brow in question.

He lets her have it, her own hand wrapping around it, careful of his vambrace, and massages the scar through the leather of the glove.

"You were better with a vibroblade at the time" he huffs, more so at the strange sensation of saying something he knows is true with certainty, even though the memory attached to it remains blurry.

"Were?" she scoffs playfully and Din smiles just a little "I'd bet my whole weapons cash that I'm still better with one than you are, Din Djarin."

"Deal" he says and curls his fingers around hers, leaning into her space like the slow pull of gravity when a ship breaks atmo.

Forehead meets helmet none to gently but she just grins up at him, so close to the visor it might as well not be there at all. He gets the distinct sense that for her it makes no difference, she knows him. She knows his face.

One corner of her mouth pulls up with her grin, a little crooked, but it feels significant. Distinctive. It strikes a chord somewhere inside him and thrums its vibrations of familiarity all throughout his body.

"Wanna see outside? It's beautiful" she pulls back, standing with their hands still connected.

Din can only nod, getting to his feet when she tugs. A helpless satellite in her orbit.

The balcony behind the curtain is small but surrounded by green towers of hanging vines, leaves reaching downward over railings and stone architecture carefully crafted to feel open. Like the walls are meant to breathe with you.

He's too busy gazing up at the blue square of sky through the open roof that he doesn't notice her tugging off her pants until they are tossed at his helmet.

"What are you- NO!" the nervousness in his voice pitches upwards to panic once he pulls the fabric clear of his visor, only to see her push herself up and over the balcony railing.

The jump is graceful, muscles learned in quick movements, trained to lift, pull, and leap. It just about stops his heart as she slips out of his reach and down below. Maybe this isn't a dream after all.

The splash below nearly has him keeling over the railing, watching the fabric of her shirt billow out in the water, a stark contrast to the blue tile design on the floor of the pool.

"Are you kriffing insane?" he yells down to her once she surfaces.

"Cuy ogir'olar" she answers in Mando'a, crooked grin taking over her face.

"Irrelevant my-" he shakes his head "you could have gotten hurt!"

"This is a dream Din! Stop being such a gullipud and join me!" she kicks onto her back and begins to paddle calmly around the pool.

He sighs as he watches her, strong legs pushing her through the water leisurely while her arms keep her balanced. It's a steady rhythm, watching the clear water ripple around her, sunlight flickering on the miniature waves like metal in dunes of sand.

Din gives in sooner than he likes to admit. Removing his armor piece by piece to set it on the bed, hesitating with hands poised to remove his helmet.

This is nothing but a dream after all.

The sentiment makes it no easier to walk back out onto the balcony, devoid of any beskar, barefoot and balling his hands up so tight he can feel the bite of his nails on his palms. Looking down at the water, he spots her floating on her back, eyes closed.

Leaping over the railing is nothing, he does dangerous things all the time. It's when he bobs back up to the surface of the cool water that any kind of apprehension sets in because she's swimming over to him, that bright look back on her face.

"You look like a drowned Wookie" she teases, slowly lifting a hand to push the hair plastered to his forehead away "when was the last time you got a haircut?" He pretends to think about his answer, enjoying the feel of her skin on his face as she lets a finger drift down between his brows, across the bridge of his nose and all the way to tip. It's a circuit she repeats, back and forth. Up and down. Like she's putting him in a trance.

It works. Her question forgotten, just the warm brush of her fingertip and the feeling of being known. Even covered in his armor it felt that way.

He knows she doesn't like being told what to do, knows how hard the knuckles of her deceptively soft looking hands can be against flesh, knows she was a Foundling like him. He knows that she never gets tired of looking at the stars, no matter how far she travels.

She only startles a little when he lunges forward to lift her up and pull her tight against him, arms secure around her. His face is pressed against hers, every inch of connection he can wring out of this, he will.

"Hi" she whispers into his ear, with arms slung around his neck and legs around his waist beneath the water. She sounds like she's greeting an old friend who has finally recognized her.

"I missed you but I don't even know who you are" voice thick, he admits defeat "I don't know your name and I'm afraid to let you go."

"I know, Din, I know" she nods and the drag of her cheek against his sends a shiver down his spine.

"Tell me where you are so I can come to you"

"I'm right here"

"I mean it"

He pulls back, one palm cupping her face, staring her down. Intent on waiting her out. The water laps patiently at their movements like a ticking metronome.

"No, you're right where you need to be, on the path you need to go down" she smiles again but there's a sadness creeping into it.

"I don't care" his words are quietly fierce, pulling her back against him as if he holds on tight enough to her, he can pull her out of this dream with him.

He shuts his eyes and buries his face into the crook of her neck, the cool scent of water giving way to the layers underneath. Of bacta and herbs and something unnameable and warm assaulting his senses.

Around them, the vibrant green layers begin to brown and decay. Leaves fall swiftly down to float on the water, dissolving. The walls start to break slowly, color fading from the intricate tile work. She can hear wood splinter and give way under rot somewhere above them.

"This place, it doesn't exist in the real world anymore" she tells him, tears gathering as she looks up while still holding tight to her Mandalorian.

"I don't care" Din repeats, eyes open and trying for one more glimpse into hers but she's looking up.

So he does too and finds the sky dark, spotted with stars he's never seen before. They must be her stars, wherever she is.

"It's okay Din" she shushes him even as he shakes his head, the pit in his stomach a gnawing beast of panic he hasn't felt in so long.

He knows he wouldn't recognize himself at the moment, this silent begging thing clutching onto an almost stranger like she knows the universes biggest secrets. It's not okay.

"It is, it is" she leans in, finger beginning the endless loop of stroking the strong line of his nose, up to the furrow in his brow. Once, twice, and then she presses a kiss with warm lips to his cheek. ----------------------------------- The mandalorian jolts awake, nearly spilling out of the pilots seat in the cockpit of the Crest. Heart pounding like a heard of bantha, sucking in breaths so fast he yanks of his helmet.

The blur of hyperspace stares back at him from the view port and he tries to tell himself the spot on his cheek that remains damp yet warm is simply sweat.

Not even the stars believe that. --------------------------------- On a planet that spins beneath stars from a dream, the walls of her bedroom give a quick tremble in sync with her return to consciousness. She had given up on shelves and hanging pictures long ago.

They simply ended up breaking, like so many other things.

Pulling her blanket tight around her shoulders, she gets out of bed and makes her way through the dark maze of her home. It's large but not for the luxury of it, whatever isn't covered in medical supplies and random tech leaves very little for personal items.

An old habit from to much time spent planet hopping.

But the stars, there is always room for the stars.

#writer wednesday #autummleaves1991-blog #din djarin #the mandalorian #original character #din djarin x female oc #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #duck did it

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avengershumanresources · 3 years

Text

blood 6 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 5 - part 7

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

6 - a promise

Violet was uncharacteristically tight lipped as she dressed you the next morning. Part of you worried that the nosy maid had seen you on the balcony the night before, but you quickly remembered she’d gone to bed early after drinking too much.

She kept sending pitying glances in your direction, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Smoothing out your skirts, she grabbed the knife you’d hidden under your pillow and tied it securely at your side.

“For good luck?” she joked, though that pitying look crossed her feature as soon as the words left her mouth.

You’d been struck dumb, expression bewildered as to how she knew about the dagger.

“James,” she replied simply, patting the weapon for safe keeping.

The implication was both comforting and terrifying.

How much influence did her two friends truly possess within the castle walls?

Accompanying you to breakfast, Violet stopped you outside of the dining hall, hand tightening around your forearm.

“Please keep your head,” she whispered, glancing nervously around them. “No matter what you find on the other side of this door.”

It was an ominous warning, but you kept it in mind while she pushed open the door,’leading you inside.

For a moment, you were certain your heart had stopped working from pure horror alone.

King Brock Rumlow sat by your uncles side, laughing as a plate of meat and eggs was placed in front of him.

“My dear, it’s so wonderful you could join us,” Obadiah stood and motioned for you to sit across from Brock at the table. “Did you sleep well? I imagine you might have stayed up bubbling with excitement.”

“Uncle,” you greeted tensely, feeling Violet’s form freeze at the casual exchange. Keep your mind. You needed to stay calm.

Calm, even though your father’s murderer was smirking at you, only meters out of your grasp.

“Princess, I’m sure you’re familiar with King Brock Rumlow,” he motioned to the king who stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness,” he reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering a moment too long for your comfort. “I’m sure this has been such a confusing and terrible time.”

You bit your tongue, swallowing down any backlash that stirred.

“Rest assured, King Brock has a very reasonable explanation for everything,” Obadiah invited the group to eat. You took your seat, trying to ignore the way Rumlow’s eyes devoured you. Like a lamb to slaughter, he looked positively ravenously at you.

“Your highness, it’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” he explained with a long sigh. “The Asgardians had been ordered to attack the border villages and I sent my men to help. There was skirmish and your father was murdered by that brutish Thor Odinson. They threw his body into the river before retreating. There was nothing we could do.”

Liar.

“You see? He was trying to defend the king,” Obadiah tilted his water goblet in your direction. “And to think, those barbaric Asgardians had the audacity to stand and mourn with you.”

Liar.

“I’m...” you never had been a very convincing actress (Peter had always told you so), but the performance you put on that morning would have rivaled the great Bard himself. “That is certainly distressing news.”

Obadiah eyed you, the reaction catching him by surprise.

“Brock has come to formally apologize for the confusion,” Obadiah started, watching you carefully for the slightest slip up. “He’s asked me for your hand as a means of reconciliation between the kingdoms.”

Your stomach dropped out, your lungs stopped moving, and you were certain both bellmen could hear your heart hammering anxiously against your chest.

Marriage... to that monster. The man you knew slayed your father. The man whose rumors of his late wife followed behind whispers of death and deceit.

Obadiah wanted to marry you off to him, for something. He had to have gotten something.

Your father out of the way, your brain supplied helpfully.

“With King Brock’s help, and the Kree army to the north, we will finally be able to stop those damned Wakandans and Asgardians from breaching our trade routes.”

Fingers tensing around your dining knife, you forced a smile on your face.

“Really?” you asked, throwing as much enthusiasm as you could stomach in the question. “Me? Married to a king?”

Obadiah paused, furrowing his brows, but Brock seemed unfazed.

“You’ll be my queen and we will rule this entire region,” he reached across the table and took your hands. “We can make the arrangements post haste.”

“Why not a fortnight from today?” Obadiah suggested, a cruel smile spreading over his face. “I’ll start the servants on things today.”

“If you insist,” Brock laughed, an empty sound that stabbed deep into you. “What say you, my dear?”

You turned to your uncle, a cold mask over your true thoughts.

“Must we wait a fortnight?” you asked, your lip jutting out in a pout. “Surely a more intimate ceremony can be put together in the next week?”

You could tell Obadiah was trying to guess your plan, the king trying to call your bluff but agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Such eager lovebirds,” he bellowed with another laugh. “Bring the wine, we have much to celebrate today.”

You managed to get through the breakfast, face hurting from all the forced and held smiles that fought against your cringing.

After the meal ended, you excused yourself to lay down for a a while, the excitement having tired you out.

Instead of your chambers, however, you hurried to the observatory, praying to the gods that Stephen was inside.

You found him curled on one of the cots, red cloak strewn over his shoulders, deep asleep. That peace was broken once you tried to quietly shut the door. His eyes flickered open and he took you in with a sleepy smile.

“Your highness,” he greeted, sitting up while you moved to sit across from him. Sensing your sour mood, he reached tenderly for your hands. “He told you.”

“You knew?” you asked, broken that he would keep such pertinent information from you.

“I found out early this morning,” he admitted. “I spent the evening trying to think of a way to make it right, but have kept coming short.”

“I don’t believe that,” you smirked toward a book open to a page detailing the effects of belladonna.

“I realized murder would be frowned upon,” he murmured. “And I think the court would be suspicious if the king and his allies turned up dead all at once.”

“They’re blaming Asgard for my father’s death,” you explained. “They intend to invade after the wedding.”

“How long do we have?” he asked, eyes scanning your face for a hint of good news.

“I uh, I may have made a mistake in that regard,” you replied, expression contorting in guilt. “Initially it was a fortnight, but Obadiah didn’t seem to believe that I would comply. So I suggested seven days.”

“Why would you need to be compliant?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Violet told me to keep my temper under control, so it seemed like the smart thing to do,” you threw your head back in exasperation.

“You aren’t wrong,” he replied, quickly explaining the dilemma Peter had outlined the night before. “But a week means our timetables must move up.”

He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, quickly scribbling a message and holding it in his palm. It disappeared in a poof of smoke.

“What was that?” you pressed, following him with your gaze when he stood up and paced the room.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he assured her. “Just trust me. There are many forces at work. Don’t make any more moves without first telling me. Promise me.”

You tilted your head, reading his exhausted expression and nodding your head slowly.

How could you not trust him?

He smiled, a sight that sent your heart rushing, in a good way. Moving toward him, you cupped his cheek and stood on your toes to give him a soft kiss.

“Careful princess,” he growled as the kiss became more heated and he stumbled back into one of the chaise’s, your body pressed flush against him. “Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish.”

The warmth inside of you screamed to finish the job, but his warning hit a more rational part of your brain and you pulled away in disappointment.

“Soon,” you promised in a terse whisper, wishing you could ducal your head into a cool pond.

“I have every intention of keeping you to that,” he replied, shifting slightly and adjusting the front of his robes with a sigh. His face flushed, pupils dilated.

Gods you could have had him then and there.

Another folded piece of parchment appeared on the table and you quickly snatched it up, reading over the familiar handwriting before Stephen could jump up from the chaise.

“You’re working with Loki?” you asked, holding up the paper. “You do know it’d be suicide for him to show his face in this kingdom.”

“The guard is on our side,” he explained briskly, grabbing the letter and reading it over. “We need to delay this as much as possible. If he challenges Brock to a duel, the law dictates the match must be honored.”

“Were you not the one worried about Brock’s sudden influx in power?” you asked incredulously. “He’s up to something sinister. Loki will get himself killed!”

“I said trust me,” he countered sharply. “Please, princess. I’m doing this all for you and we need a little more time. Besides, it will get Loki into the castle undetected by Amora.”

You’d almost forgotten about the enchantress. Brock spoke highly of her during breakfast and you’d had the pleasure of meeting the blonde haired woman at the end of the meal. Even from a distance, you could sense there was something wicked about her.

“You will be careful?” you asked, knowing that even if the reassurance was empty, it was something.

“We will do our best,” he promised quietly, both of you knowing full well he was lying.

(—)

Natalia hated wandering to this side of the forest. She knew she could reasonably fight off any ne’er do wells or rogues, but she also knew that the mystics and magic users liked to use the thick foliage coverings as a means of hiding from the public.

Not everyone could serve in a castle and villagers were fickle, superstitious folk.

Still, it was where Michelle had told her to meet with Wanda, the sorceress having passed the message long in hopes of the pair crossing paths.

“My cottage is just around the meadow,” Wanda chimed up, breaking Amat’s train of thought with an amused smile. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure the area was secure,” Nat replied, her fingers dropping from the dagger she’d been about to pull. “Quite a way of passing along a message.”

“I needed to ensure its discretion, I apologize for the roundabout means,” she answered sincerely, moving toward a small cottage and opening the door for her guest. “We have much to discuss.”

“Couldn’t you have passed it along the princess or Strange?”

“It’s not yet the time for them to know,” she hummed, snapping her fingers and igniting the fire under a tea kettle. That had caught the assassin’s interest and she waited until Wanda continued. “You’re aware no body of the king was found?”

“They buried an empty box,” Natalia nodded, glancing at the teacup places in front of her. “The leading rumor is he was thrown in the river and the Kree are holding onto the remains.”

Wanda pulled a few herbs from her pantry, pulling the kettle from the fire with a wave of her hand and floating it over the red heads cup. The hot water fell from the air, passing through the herbs, and landing into the cup as a freshly brewed tea.

“There are many whispers about the fate of the great Iron Defender,” she agreed softly, taking a sip from her own cup with a satisfied smile. “But, what I want to tell you is the truth of the matter.”

“Which is?”

“I’m amazing at dramatic entrances,” a voice cracked, opening the front door of Wanda’s cottages and grinning at Natalia. “Natalia, it’s been quite some time since you were stealing rolls from the kitchen.”

King Anthony Stark himself stood before her, perfectly healthy and strong.

“How?” she blurted out with a wide eyed look between the pair. “Clint saw you pierced through the chest with an arrow.”

“Did he?” Wanda asked, a twinkle of crimson flickering through her eyes. “The men saw what the king wanted them to see.”

“I needed to ensure my enemies thought I was dead,” he explained, settling at the table across from her. “I knew Brock was planning something across the border and once Odin warned me that Amora had taken the place of Mordo, I needed to act to protect the kingdom and my family.”

“You need to remove Obadiah from the throne, he intends to-,” Nat started but Tony nodded slowly at her words.

“I’m well aware,” he stated. “I knew he’d been corresponding with Brock for some time and that there would be a plot against me. I needed to make sure my enemies were all exposed in a fell swoop, but Wanda mentioned the engagement and I was forced to move my plans forward.”

“Plans?”

“I had hoped to move when Obadiah refused to give up the throne on Peter’s birthday,” he explained. “But, given what Brock intends to offer for my daughter’s hand, we can’t wait any longer.”

“What do you mean?” Natalia furrowed her brows. “You don’t mean to move on him now, do you? That’d be madness, not without our allies.”

“Who said I didn’t have allies?” he grinned back at her. “Black Widow, you’re not the only one with a large web. I’ve secured Wakandan and Asgardian support, as well as the support of the southern Kree empire. Steve has been working under my orders to determine the loyalty of the guard. Everything is ready to be put in motion, so long as Brock doesn’t mobilize his troops before the wedding.”

“Did you expect this?” she asked, dumbfounded by all of the information.

“I had expected to deal with them separately, but this makes it convenient,” he shrugged. “But I need you to ensure the safety of the princess and my family.”

“It’s being taken care of,” Natalia replied. “Strange and the others have come up with a plan to get them all to safety. The queen and Morgan will be moved to Kamar-Taj and the princess will be taken to Stephen’s family home.”

“Has he come to his senses, yet?” he asked with a snort.

“Very recently,” Natalia chuckled. “So he has even more to lose with a successful marriage. I’ve never seen him quite this motivated.”

“And what of Peter?”

“He wants to fight,” she explained. “The others are encouraging him to wait, but already some men have sworn allegiance to him. Some of the major houses are beginning to start preparations for civil war.”

Tony considered her words, fingers twirling around the edges of his beard as she spoke.

“This is good then,” he decided. “With Peter rallying the families against Obadiah, he has less claim to the throne.”

“Unless Obadiah catches wind and has him executed on the spot,” Wanda supplied dryly. “We must continue to work discreetly.”

“We need someone inside of the walls to help coordinate from within,” Tony explained.

“Why can’t Wanda do it?” Nat asked and Wanda let out a frustrated sigh.

“Obadiah is keeping out all magic keepers except Stephen and Amora, since he is the Master Sorcerer of the castle and she’s a royal guest,” she shook her head. “It’s an effort to prevent any threats against the royal family.”

“The irony was not lost on us,” Tony added with a small smirk. “I can pay you handsomely- after I reclaim my throne.”

“Wouldn’t that be humiliating?” Natalia teased. “All this work and you lose the throne in the end?”

“That ultimately depends on what you say,” he urged and she bowed her head, offering a hand to shake.

“I want a large parcel of land,” she insisted. “And a title.”

“What about James?”

“I suppose he’ll need a title too,” she paused. “Perhaps another parcel for him as well?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

(---)

“It’s quiet,” you whispered, back against cool grass, fingers intertwined with Stephen’s as the two of you gazed up at the night sky.

“Mandatory curfews,” he murmured. “We’d do well not to attract the guard.”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?” you rolled toward him, propping yourself up on her elbow and looking down at him with a sly grin.

“We must be absolutely silent,” he agreed, leaning up and cupping your face. Slowly he pulled you closer until you were practically onto of him. Pulling you even closer, you tumbled a ways down the small hill before stopping with a soft thud on the ground below.

Exchanging bewildered looks, you both burst out laughing. You reached forward to pluck a few leaves out of his hair when he caught you by the wrist and kissed you passionately. A moan escaped you when he nibbled on a more sensitive part of your neck, the chill sending shivers everywhere.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, the nibbles becoming small bits, his kiss becoming more desperate and hungry. “I can’t promise to control myself.”

“Then don’t,” you managed through a whimper when he slipped his hands under your corset. He teased, fingers lightly maneuvering over the sensitive skin. You were about to rip the damned thing off yourself when he stopped.

“Are you trying to be cruel?” you asked, face drained of blood and clothes disheveled.

“Something’s coming-,” he scrambled to his feet, drawing up a portal and sealing it shut just before a blast of fire struck. “Someone knew we were there.”

“Impossible,” you shook your head. “You’ve disguised your magic, and the wards around the room are some best rune work I’ve seen in ages.”

He paused, catching snippets of what you were saying.

They hadn’t tracked his signature- they’d tracked yours.

He grabbed your wrist and wrapped his palm around it, muttering a spell and pulling away.

The rune Loki had cast over you had almost faded away.

“What is-?” you started but he was scrambling across the room looking for something to prick the end of his finger to get a little blood.

Spying a needle on your armoire, he grabbing the tiny object and prodded his fingertip, a small bead of blood appearing.

Approaching, he frowned in thought. He needed to be careful. Too powerful and the seidr wouldn’t be able to protect you. Too weak and the seidr would eat through too quickly and its uncontrolled power in your untrained body could wreak devastation the kingdom over.

“Why are you renewing a seal?” you asked, recognizing the symbol on your wrist with pointed interest.

Why were you such a dedicated student? You’d read almost all the texts he had read in his life, often asking thoughtful questions about the material he hadn’t thought of.

This was a basic power sealing rune that had been added on and changed slightly in terms of the magic involved.

“What are you trying to seal, Stephen?” you repeated tersely, eyes narrowed at him.

(---)

7- a king

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

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@im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

3x04: Sin City

Then:

Dean killed Azazel

Now:

A nun wanders an empty church, replacing hymnals. The priest finds her and offers to walk her to her car. They both find a parishioner in the balcony who gets their attention by announcing that “God’s not with us.” He then shoots himself in the head. Ooof.

While Dean and Bobby work on the Colt, Sam informs them that he’s found sightings of demonic omens. Bobby stays behind to figure out how the Colt works while Dean and Sam take off for Ohio and the new case.

Interviewing the priest, the brothers learn that things changed in the town about two months prior --the same time they opened the devil’s gate.

The brothers then head to their motel room, where Dean runs into an old hunter friend, Richie. They banter and then they all talk shop. Whatever’s happening, doesn’t make sense. (Sidenote: Dean’s pumped that the room has Magic Fingers. Yay, bby) Dean asks about anyone in town whose whole personality has changed. Richie answers, “There’s Trotter.” He’ll be at his bar in a couple hours.

The town is anything but a boarded up factory town. It’s got coeds as far as the eye can see, and Dean’s ready to do some research. Trotter’s Bar is the epicenter of debauchery. They find the priest there.

Sam wonders what the padre is doing there. He goes where the flock is.

Dean then gets to flirt mildly with the bartender and fun fact: He likes Hurricanes. I feel like this is one part of Dean’s personality not explored in later seasons. Let the boy drink his fruity drinks, 202K!

Before anyone can react, a man walks in and shoots another man dead.

Dean tackles the assailant before he can off himself. Sam throws holy water on him, but he’s not possessed. The man admits that the victim slept with his wife. (Sam sees Dana Scully’s dad from across the bar. Man, things are REALLY WEIRD here.) (Natasha: Nooo he’s the general from Stargate!)

The cops later take the man away and tell Sam and Dean that the paper will be there shortly to take their pictures.

That’s the brothers’ cue to leave. Dean wonders where Richie is before they take off.

Richie is with the bartender. She’s taken him to her parent’s country estate. It’s secluded and has toys. Just when things are getting interesting for poor Richie, the bartender reveals she’s really a demon, and she knows he’s a hunter. WHERPS. He tries attacking, but she snaps his neck in two seconds flat. Richie!

Later at the bar, Dean forgoes eating his burger to track down the missing Richie. Sam decides to follow Trotter.

Bobby, meanwhile, is getting the Colt back into fighting shape. Ruby shows up and taunts him to test out the Colt. He does. The aim is true but the bullets aren’t right. She offers to help him with the gun.

The brothers practice seriously dangerous cell phone usage (Seriously Sammy? You didn’t put it on silent? Seriously Dean? You’re driving while not hands free? UGH.)

Dean’s back at the bar and a prostitute approaches him for a discounted good time. Dean doesn’t pay. (Or is that Sam? IDK, neither of them have to pay. Have you seen them!?) The bartender is back at work and saw the whole thing. It doesn’t deter her that Dean struck out with a prostitute and they head out for fun times elsewhere.

Sam watches Dana Scully’s dad leave his office and heads in himself to investigate. Dana Scully’s Dad Trotter appears again and there’s a slight tussle before Sam realizes that he’s also not a demon. Sam awkwardly realizes his mistake and makes his exit. Sweet dumb boy.

Dean, meanwhile, is heading down the same path as his dead buddy Richie. Dean’s no dummy though and sets up a devil’s trap. He pulls out his Latin book to exorcise her back to Hell. He doesn’t have it memorized yet and she starts up a demon wind machine. He loses the pages AND the basement door caves in. Worst Date Ever.

Later, Dean explores his new prison to the amusement of the demon trapped with him. She mocks him openly for not having an exorcism memorized.

The demon taunts Dean expertly. Dean Bean’s offended at being labeled the dumb one and I am OFFENDED on his behalf! They wait to see whose rescue is going to arrive first - Dean’s or hers.

Sam frets at the bar over his missing brother, and bribes the bartender for his whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon’s snarkfest marathon continues. She tells him that she didn’t even have to engage in mystical hijinks to send people in town into an evil tailspin. All she had to do was drop a few suggestions about the profit of vice to Trotter and humans took care of the rest. She describes humans as weak and corrupt.

For Constantly Weak for Dean Winchester and SYMBOLISM Science:

Sam heads inside her (other) house and finds sulfur. The game is afoot!

Meanwhile, Dean and the demon enjoy a little philosophical exchange. “Do you believe in God, Dean?” she asks him while I chew my own arm off. She sets up the apocalyptic battle from the demon perspective. Humans have wrought carnage on their world, so it’s the demons’ turn to “do it right this time.”

Sam’s back at the bar again, calling Bobby to report that he can’t find Dean. I guess the game is...not so afoot after all. The bartender offers him booze before downing a shot himself and, frustrated with the townsfolk, Sam zeroes in on the priest who’s still hanging out in the bar.

Demon Casey tells Dean that she’s faithful to Lucifer, light-bringer and the one who will raise demons up. She’s a believer. Dean oh-so-casually asks what Hell is like and the BRAVADO masking the FEAR! Jensen Ackles, your face hurts me sometimes.

For HURTSSSSS MEEE Science:

She sees right through him. “It’s a pit of despair,” she tells him frankly. “Why do you think we want to come here?”

Sam, meanwhile, is involved in a terribly awkward discussion with the priest at the bar. He’s worried about his brother and thinks he might be…..in trouble. The priest offers to bring Sam to Casey. His eyes turn black as he turns away from Sam.

The demon and Dean have settled into a friendly heart to heart at this point. She tells him that she actually likes him and thinks he did something good when he sold his soul to save Sam.

Dean tries to laugh off her real talk. He thinks it’s freeing to be damned - he can live his life any way he wants now. He’s totally not scared at all. Not at all!!!

The demon riding the priest interrogates Sam, asking him about his aspirations for the future. Yeah! Why aren’t ya in college, Sam!

Dean and Demon Casey continue to bond, and the scene takes the tone of a couple kids just chilling in the basement talking about life. Which is...actually sort of accurate.

Casey tells Dean that Yellow Eyes, a.k.a. Azazel, had a plan to bring the minions of Hell to Earth, but Dean killing him put a significant wrench in those plans. She tells him that Sam was supposed to lead the demon army. Uh. Wherps. Instead of Sam, there’s a power vacuum in Hell. Demons everywhere are fighting for the crown. “For the record,” she tells him, “I was ready to follow Sam.” And damn, if I don’t get the feeling that Dean likes her a little better because of that.

Sam and his demon priest arrive. Dean issues a warning to Sam, but Sammy doesn’t have to worry because Bobby shows up with the Colt! Bobby hands off the gun to Sam, Ruby smirking in the background. The priest breaks into the basement and smashes through the devil’s trap holding Demon Casey in. They kiss while Dean looks on in surprise.

Surprise, Dean! They’ve been lovers for centuries! Casey begs the demon priest for Dean’s life and it gives just enough delay for Sam to shoot the priest with the Colt. The priest flashes out. Dean tries to stop Sam from killing Demon Casey but Sam shoots. She flashes out as well. Remember, kids, there’s no room for love on Supernatural unless it’s DOOMED LOVE.

The next morning, Dean tries to figure out what they actually won from this hunt. There are two demons dead and one alive - and very bad - human. “Maybe these people wanna destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle,” Dean opines to Bobby. He notes that Sam’s dispatch of both demons was “cold” and brings up Azazel’s words to him: When Sam came back, he might have come back different. They both agree (halfheartedly) that Sam is doing FINE and is definitely not at all concerning.

Sam and Ruby meet up in a hotel room. Sam’s suffering regrets and calls Ruby a “cold bitch.” She takes issue with this assessment, particularly since she’s saved his life a few times. I mean, knowing about Ruby aside, I fully agree here. Fun fact! The word “bitch” was used four times in this episode! Ruby continues to dangle the hope that she might be able to help save Dean from his deal. Sam levels the Colt at her.

Sam threatens to kill her, but it’s just empty words. Ruby warns him that the fight ahead won’t be easy, but she’ll be there by his side. A little “fallen angel” on his shoulder. (Shakes my head at this goddamn show.)

Where Everybody Knows Your Quotes:

Toys trump oils

A demon with a heart. Wow

You don't get it. All you got to do is nudge humans in the right direction

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #ruby #spn 3x04 #sin city #supernatural season 2

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keiyoomi · 4 years

Text

i got you.

⤜ details: t. kei × reader; 401 words; fluff

⤜ request: "it’s not only raining, but there is thunder! It’s late and person a is terribly scared of thunder. person a hugs them closely, calming them down. Person b falls asleep in their arms. with kei?" - @ushissugarcube

⤜ note: thank you for sending a request! it took awhile before posting this. ah, while i was writing this, my dog fell asleep on my keyboard. she looks adorable. also, i think i have a flu but it's not that alarming. i just want to inform you guys in case i fell asleep again like last night.

⤜ now playing: perfect day by holley maher

⤜ masterlist

Kei noticed the lightning behind the thick veil of clouds on his way home from Sendai Museum. "I should be home before the rain pour down," he mumbled with a sigh. "That idiot would definitely tremble if she hears the thunder." He slid his hands into his jacket's pocket before sprinting towards your house.

He tilted his head upon arriving at your shared house. The lights were all out and the entire house is filled with silence. Sort of. He took off his shoes followed by his jacket, which he draped over the couch. "Did she just. . .?"

He took long strides and checked your bedroom. Thick curtains covers the window by the balcony of your room as you peacefully sleep under the blankets. "That's new," he remarked before heading to the bathroom. He was under the shower when the loud thundered echoed your house.

Kei found it amusing that you weren't shrieking.

Another thunder echoed your whole place, one that is much louder than the one earlier. He was drying his body when he heard you yelp, followed by the rustling of blankets. Kei stepped out of walk-in closet, hands both occupied with his shirt, pajamas and boxers.

You turned your head towards him and your jaw dropped upon seeing him standing few feet away from you. "K-Kei?"

He hummed. "Give me a minute," he said, placing his clothes on the foot of the bed. Series of loud thunderclap echoed the entire place while he puts on his clothes and each time, he glance at your direction.

You wrapped the thick blanket around you as you watch him enter the bathroom. When he returned, he was wearing his glasses while drying his hair. "I thought you wouldn't hear them," he noted before taking the empty spot beside you. He kissed your lips gently before smiling. "I thought you wouldn't yelp or shriek like the last time, but you still did." Then, he scoffed. "It's not like the thunder could hurt you."

"Shadd-ap!"

You yelped as you heard another thunderclap. Your evil husband laughed before pulling away the blanket from your body. Then, he wrapped his toned arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I got you," he whispered before kissing your forehead.

Few minutes later, you were already sound asleep in the arms of Tsukishima Kei, free from your fear of thunder. At least, for that night.

⤜ general taglist — @haikyuu-ink ; @kenchiko ; @agaassi ; @lovetsuki ; @sadsugarplumm ; @yams046 ; @namyari ; @thatnikkixx ; @k-eijiakaashi ; @akaashit-baeji ; @thatasiang1rl ; @starfleetakaashi ; @stcrryskies ; @kunimwuah ; @shou-kunn ; @sugacookiies ; @ushissugarcube ; @bap-kingdom

click here to check for open taglists.

#keiyoomi: masterlist #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #keiyoomi: fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader fluff #tsukishima kei x reader fluff

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ayanna-wild · 4 years

Text

A Night To Remember

Word Count: 1888

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mostly fluff

A/N: Request from @timea134-blog , Requests and Tag Lists are open.

Summary: It'd started as the ramblings of a near drunken conversation. You hadn't expected anything to come of it, but he insisted, promising you a night of fun. You agreed not expecting anything but a simple dinner between friends, but when the night ended and he asked again, you couldn't help but agree, promising to say yes, everytime he asked.

..................................................................................

You dropped your coat onto the ground with little regard as you stepped from the elevator. If you noticed the man standing in the living room, watching you curiously, you didn't say. Instead, you made your way straight to the bar, choosing your poison and pouring yourself a generous amount into one of the crystal glasses.

"Rough night darling?"

His voice was laced with amusement, which only served to irritate you more, but it wasn't his fault.

"I thought you had a date tonight, don't tell me it ended already?"

You looked over at the devil, giving him a tight smile.

"It never started."

You took a long drink, relishing in the burn it gave you. Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows when he heard that, walking over to you.

"Pardon?"

You laughed bitterly, setting the now empty cup down a little rougher then necessary.

"I got stood up, forgotten, played, need me to elaborate anymore?"

Lucifer watched you grab the bottle to pour yourself another glass.

"No, I think that's clear enough." He frowned.

You took a smaller sip this time, humming a little as you swallowed.

"It's funny, that wasn't even my worse date! If anything, it was one of the better ones."

You grabbed the bottle making your way to the couch. Lucifer watched you as you sunk onto the couch with a dejected sigh.

"I've been stood up, bailed on, left to pay for everything, asked for a loan, used to make an ex jealous, and my favorite of them all, called me 'dude' and suggested we 'hang out' again, strictly as friends."

Lucifer walked over to you as you kicked your shoes off.

"Oh come now darling, surely you've had at least one successful date?"

You tucked you feet under yourself, laughing without any humor as you leaned back.

"There was this one guy, he was sweet, very gentlemanly, it was actually going pretty good."

He sat down beside you, smiling a little.

"See, it's not all bad."

"You're right, that date was wonderful... until his wife showed up. I guess he forgot to mention he was married on his profile." You gave him a rather cynical smile.

Lucifer's smile faded.

"Oh."

You shrugged a little, staring up at the ceiling. Lucifer watched with sympathy as you sat there, clutching the cup in your hand. You didn't say anything for a while, and he wasn't sure what to say to help.

"I guess that's it then."

"Come again?" He raised an eyebrow.

You didn't sit up, but did turn your head to look at him.

"I told myself if this one was a bust then I'd just take myself out of the dating game."

"Now let's not be too hasty, you-"

"Hasty? Lucifer that was my tenth unsuccessful date, in a row."

He watched you down the rest of your glass before pouring yourself a third.

"You've just got to be positive love, there's someone out there who will truly appreciate you for the wonderful person you are."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his attempt to cheer you up.

"That's easy for you to say, all you have to do is smile at a girl, and her panties drop."

Lucifer sputtered at your unfiltered remark, seemingly choking on the air around him. He swiftly grabbed the cup from your hand when you raised it to your lips.

"I think you've had enough."

You pouted a little but didn't argue with him as you sank back into the couch. Lucifer stared at you a moment, as if thinking of how to word what he wanted to say next.

"Would you like to accompany me to dinner tomorrow evening?"

You glanced at him, shaking your head.

"I was just venting Luci, you don't need to go on a pity date with me."

You went to stand up, but he placed a hand on your knee, giving you that charming smile that always got him his way.

"It's not pity my dear, I'd very much like to take you out for an evening." He assured you.

"As friends?"

Lucifer laughed a little, shaking his head.

"No, this isn't a friendly gathering darling, it's a date."

You hesitated to answer, your eyes searching his for any sign of regret or uncertainty. You wanted to make sure he wasn't doing this just because he felt bad for you, because he was your friend, and he felt obligated to. His eyes held nothing but certainty, and he looked almost hopeful that would agree.

"Okay, what time?"

His smile grew, and you found yourself smiling back with equal glee.

You paced your living room, dressed in your best clothes and nervously holding your phone in a vice like grip. Lucifer's contact displayed on the screen, and you battled between going and sending him an excuse to miss. It wasn't that you weren't excited, quite the opposite. Yet, the anxiety of it all made you want to stay home.

Would this change everything between the two of you?

Would this ruin your friendship, or even your entire relationship with him?

You didn't have time to talk yourself out of it anymore, the sound of a car honking outside your home spiking your anxiety. It was too late to back out now.

You took a deep breath before opening your front door. Lucifer stood by his Corvette, dressed in a more formal suit than what he normally wore. You suddenly felt very undressed and began to wish you'd at least wore a dress. Lucifer, however, was staring at you in almost a stunned silence.

"I can change, I think I'm under dressed for whatever it is you have planned." You spoke softly as you took a step back towards your door.

"Nonsense, you look... heavenly."

Your shoulders dropped a little as you felt the tension leave your body, a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. Lucifer cleared his throat, looking away from you with an almost bashful expression when he realized he had practically been drooling over you. He opened the car door for you.

"Shall we?"

You smirked as you stepped into the car, Lucifer closed the door once you were in, moving to the driver's side.

"Such a gentleman." You teased.

He smirked, taking your hand giving it a kiss. You laughed, lightly hitting his arm making him chuckle.

"Where are we going?"

He pulled the car out of your driveway with a cryptic smile.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I told you darling."

The entire ride had been a sort of guessing game, you'd ask for hints about what the crafty devil had planned, and he would deflect or give you vague answers. When the two of you had finally arrived you stared at the building in front of you with speechless fascination.

While you were mesmerized by the almost magical looking restaurant in front of you, Lucifer had gotten out of the car. He held your door open for you, holding a hand out for you to take. You gave him a grateful smile, taking the offered hand as you slipped from the passenger seat. He placed a hand on your lower back as he led you towards the building.

"I've never even heard of this place." You spoke up.

Lucifer smiled as he held the door open for you.

"I'd imagine not, this restaurant doesn't officially open for another week, the owner owes me a favor or two."

You opened your mouth to say something but a man you assumed to be the owner approached Lucifer. He shook the devil's hand, eagerly leading the two of you to a table on the balcony outside. You couldn't help but get caught up in the view, as Lucifer spoke with the owner.

"That sounds marvelous, doesn't it darling?"

You looked back over at them, a lost expression on your face, you hadn't been listening to their conversation.

"Uh... yes?"

The owner seemed pleased with your answer and walked away. You watched him disappear from view and looked back at Lucifer, who was sipping his wine, smiling at you knowingly.

"Beautiful view isn't it?"

You nodded absent-mindedly, gazing off in the direction the man had gone.

"What did I agree to?" You asked.

Lucifer laughed, reaching over the table to grasp your hand.

"Don't fret my dear, you'll enjoy the show." Lucifer promised.

"Show?"

You noticed a violinist make her way over to the balcony and your face flushed.

"Lucifer this is too much." You muttered as she began to play.

"On the contrary, you deserve nothing less than the best."

You had no words after that, suppressed a smile as you glanced down at your lap. His words made the blood rush to your cheeks and ran his thumb over your knuckles as he held your hand.

The night was amazing, you'd spent the majority of it talking and laughing with the handsome man. The food was delicious, the music enchanting and by the end of it you'd all but forgotten about the dates you had before. It seemed that they were now a distant memory, one you could look back on and laugh.

Lucifer drove you home, the chatter and laughter counting even in the car. He walked you to your door, as you grasped his arm both of you giggling like school girls over a joke he'd made. When the laughter died down he move a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You stared at him and it took him a moment to realize what he'd done. When he did, he let his hand drop to his side, glancing off towards the street. It looked like he thought he'd made a mistake doing that and you grabbed his hand in both of yours.

"I had fun tonight Lucifer, it was amazing."

He looked back at you, a smile growing on his lips.

"It truly was."

There was brief conflict in his eyes before he bent down to kiss your cheek. He pulled back, but you grabbed his tie, pulling him back down for a real kiss. Despite his initial surprise, he reciprocated the kiss eagerly. You pulled back first smiling at the dazed devil, fixing his tie, before opening your door.

"Goodnight Lucifer."

That seemed to pull him from his daze, and he grabbed your arm carefully.

"Would you go with me again?" He inquired.

You didn't even need to think about your answer.

"Yes."

He noticed your lack of hesitation and took a step closer to you.

"And if I asked you on a third date?"

You opened your door further.

"I'd say yes."

He was closer now, invading your personal space, not that you minded.

"If I asked you again and again? Would you say yes each time?"

"Every time." You promised.

He grinned at your answer, and you glanced over your shoulder into your house.

"The night isn't over yet, you know."

He smiled widely at your invitation and despite stepping into your home he pretended to consider your offer.

"I suppose that would make this all very official, wouldn't it? You wouldn't be getting rid of me so easily if I were to accept your tempting offer my love."

You grabbed his tie once more, pulling him fully into your home, kicking the door closed behind him.

"You talk too much."

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#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar oneshot #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x you #luciferonnetflix #luciferonfox #lucifernetflix

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sunset-novice-writer · 4 years

Note

May I request married to Aziawa headcanons?🥺👉🏾🦋

Thank you so much for this first head canon request @dr1ppyk9!! I never thought that I would actually get one of this, but hope you enjoy these. You guys should go check out her blog it’s really good, and they are really nice. 😊😀

I want to give a shout out to my editor for their help @whisperwastes, and wanted to give credit where it is due for betaing as well. Still, if you guys see anything I need to fix let me know. Stay awesome everyone!!

Now on to King of Sleeping bags, and the first Cat Daddy ( Ihave no idea I why I put that in here. >~< ^ ^;)

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Married to Aizawa Shouta HCS

Married Life as Aizawa’s Waifu/ Husbando Includes:

I would expect a lazy cuddle session with this man especially if you're a spouse.He loves these after tough days from his Hero work,and teaching the next generation of heroes in the making.

At the end of the day coming home to you to bask in a much deserved cuddly time is something he loves.You’re his favorite body pillow though he will tell you so with sleepy grumbles. This something that is intimate to be close to his spouse; this is very peaceful for him.

The thought of being wrapped up in his significant other’s embrace is the epitome of soothing for him. I imagine he has some trauma from the situations that he deals with from Hero work, and nightmares that follow it. One of the things that I think it could be is the USJ incident with a gentle touch to wake Shouta up from the dreams.

In the mornings, he likes it when his spouse helps him with his eye drops, fussing over him about keeping up his morning routine to make sure he doesn’t strain his eyes during the day

His spouse probably has to stop him from buying cats/cat themed things.

He is a homebody and very rarely likes to go out for dates. If his spouse wants to go on a date, he’ll plan something for them to do at home or close to home. Things like making makeshift beds in the living room to binge a show or staying up late at night to camp out on the balcony and talk about your pasts and futures.

I was thinking about a future pet--I definitely think that a cat would be the best option for Aizawa and his spouse. Bonus points, if they are a huge cat lover like he is though it gives him reasons to get cat toys for the kitten. If their s/o was allergic I do see them trying to find a hypoallergenic cat. Sphinx would be the choice of cat they’d get though there are problems for them to choose from.

In terms of affection, I don’t think he is much for PDA in public; he'd probably feel a bit awkward about it. I think if it’s his s/o he might be okay with a kiss on the cheek though he likes to keep things private between himself and his spouse.He is fine with holding hands out in public though showering affection is something I don’t see him doing.

He likes to keep himself as professional as possible in public, but he doesn’t mind his spouse kissing his cheek. He doesn’t mind if they run their hand down his back quickly, then he won’t put up much of a fuss

When Aizawa is home with his spouse in a comfortable private setting with soft kisses every so often. Giving them hugs in the early hours of the morning is more his speed.

Married with Kids

He is a wonderful dad to his children and not to forget super protective to boot.(especially if he has a daughter don't why but I can see it more there.)When it comes to other people wanting to hold his kids he much rather not have to do that. if he can help it that is.He's a pretty much hands on dad all the way.

What can I say this man does his research if you're expecting a baby.Or planning to adopt one with him.Before your child even arrives he is looking through baby books galore--medical books, good child development and all that entails for you kids overall wellness.Aizawa will strive to be the world's best day for your little bundle of joy.

As for getting babysitters, Shouta will go with Hizashi and Kayama.Despite being a bit reluctant to do so though.Yet, he trusts them to look after them when he's not around.

If you need anything during this time he will surely be the one to get it for you.Always the supportive spouse during your pregnancy which is a given anyway.I totally see Aizawa doing all the housework chores, and cooking something nutritious for you too.In the beginning, it might be a bit of a mess though he'll probably be covered in something at the first time he does it.The sight might have his spouse finding it cute and attempt to stop giggles at the sight of it.

Anything that involves changing diapers,spit up, and messes in general when it comes to the baby he is chill.He helps with the clean up as well as helping make bottles before going about his day.Plus, he is really laid back when it comes to these sorts of things which good for his spouse.

When it comes to nap time it is something he is for all the way.Sometimes you can't resist taking some photos of the pair as they sleep peacefully together.It really is a sight to see how easily they fall asleep with their father with small baby cooing leaving their lips.

Instead of getting a baby carrying a sling, I think Aizawa would probably make one out of his capture weapon.If he goes out and about with his baby.I think this would fit if you all went out for family time too.

As for when his children gets bigger he is active in helping with their academics.Aizawa being a teacher will come in handy helping them with homework.He will probably offer some tutor sessions if their child needs some extra help in a certain class, and any in general.Purely, is there to help his child succeed he is there if they need any extra help.

If his child has a quirk he will help them to get a better grasp on mastering it.Probably will incorporate fitness into their routine to help stay active, and helps the get control on their quirk.If the child if quirkiness that wouldn't matter he would love them regardless of that fact.

Entering UA you can be your child and will have their skills down to a point there they are finely tuned. Aizawa will put some sense into your kid's head that they aren't above anyone else.Everyone is equal when it comes to the skills of their quirk.

Now, the big thing he will be super strict about is dating.He vents about how people’s intentions could be villainous towards his precious baby.I can see Shouta as a big intimidating lion when his daughter/son thinks about asking someone out.(protect yourself please...lol)All the little dirty thoughts they might be directing towards his child--well he doesn't like it.

His spouse caught him one time on top of a wooden stumps that connected the cable lines.Aizawa kept a keen eye during their child's date with their crush and frowned when he/she gave their crush a slight peck on the cheek.Silently, fuming at the sight that was his precious child.

He ended up almost getting caught out when you texted him.Aizawa had to make a stealthy get away before your child caught him. Still, he does get over this though your child to him will be his baby. For the most part, he is logical though does not like to think his kid will be a hormonal minx.

As for the people around them he just knows their irrational beasts. I wanna say that he is not looking forward to talking about the birds and bees with you.I feel that you both will possibly be there to have that discussion if it ever comes up.Please pray you never break their heart unless you want Aizawa to give you a piece of his mind.

If his child ever gets married when they’re older he will be sure to walk them down the aisle. He might be glaring at his child’s soon to be wife/husband (Might be full blown if it’s Bakugou he just smirks at him as he mouths,”There my baby now, Mummy)I do see him getting emotional when he sees them for the first time in their wedding gown--or tuxedo. I feel like he would be good at hiding it just a smidge. (plus, correct me if I am wrong, lol) He would make sure to have the dance with his daughter or son after the party.

His grandchild will think he is the coolest person ever wanting to hear all about his stories as a hero. Probably some embarrassing ones of their parents back when they were younger while probably going to get training, and help with school.

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To all the Aizawa Shouta fans, I hope I did this man justice. If you feel I’m missing something let me know. I will probably update this with fixes though I could not be more grateful for getting a headcanon request. @dr1ppyk9 thank you very much for this. 😭😭 I hope you like this thanks for sending it in which it was a blast to write.😊😊😀

@whisperwastes, thanks for helping out with this I am truly grateful for the help you’ve given me.

#Aizawa Shouta #Headcanons #BNHA #Aizawa x reader #firstrequest #bnha x reader

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