#I’m not saying converse with prom dress type shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scuttling · 3 years ago

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Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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izzielizzie · 3 years ago

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as requested, oouil trailer breakdown (it’s long sorry)

1: first of all, there’s that:

based on the overalls Bronwyn is wearing, I’m going to guess that this is the scene where Nate drives Bronwyn home after Simon dies. Also: there’s a beach and a highway which probably means that A) the Rojas live in a very wealthy and very far away area of town and B) there’s going to possibly be more beach scenes, which means the Jake, Addy, TJ beach scene in particular. And also Nate has two helmets? Who’s he driving around? Or does the show just want to practice good motorcycle habits in which case good for them.

2: next is Simon and Janae:

This specific quote, her bubbly attitude, and the face Simon makes right after she says it leads me to believe that at this point Janae is either totally on board with what Simon’s about to do, or she doesn’t know. Because book Janae hated Simon’s plan from day one.

and then, of course, there are the shots of the Bayview Four before all the shit that goes down, which probably means that there will be a montage or some sort of their lives beforehand.

3: also here:

Bronwyn’s crying, but she’s wearing the same shirt as she was at the lunch table which means that either she’s reading a post about herself before detention, or she’s just gotten the call about Simon. The background looks like a school, so maybe she’s looking at her real phone after Simon’s taken away because the fake one was what caused this mess?

again, Addy’s looking at her phone, but wearing something different. This is probably after the big post about the Bayview Four, especially since she’s walking alone and not with Jake.

5: look how confused Cooper is:

all the other scenes of the B4 show them looking guilty, but here Coop looks like he has no clue what Simon’s talking about. Because he doesn’t, this is about him doing steroids instead.

you tell him queen. also Bronwyn’s shoulder is next to Addy which means that this conversation happens after the teacher leaves to make sure no one was hurt during the fender-bender.

7: notice how Simon pouring the water isn’t actually shown:

none of the narrators watched him pour the water either. It’s not very big but it’s clever

8: he’s reaching out to Nate:

looks like Coop was right, he did regret it in the end

9: this is a good callback to Nate calling Addy useless in the books:

I can’t wait to see their friendship grow

10: Bronwyn’s coming back home at night, which only happens once in the book

probably a meeting of the B4? Or she was with Nate? She’s obviously not hiding something from her family though because she’s not being very conspicuous. Although that hoodie is the same from the football game, so maybe that’s where she’s coming back from?

11:

this is the Natewyn stairwell scene right? where he gives her a burner phone? He’s looking up at someone, so I assume it’s Bronwyn on the stairs.

12:

this scene was interesting because Cooper never outwardly accused anyone... but he’s suggesting it with Bronwyn. Also he’s wearing black and she’s wearing black so... funeral?

13:

this is probably Simon’s room? Not sure why they’d be in there but also it seems like it’s an early episode because they’re all accusing each other. And Addy says she knows everyone but Bronwyn, which probably means that the show might be going on a Bronwyn and Nate vs Cooper and Addy path until they work together.

14: okay so Cooper just goes to abandoned parks now?

maybe to meet someone? Maybe Kris? But Kris has an apartment.

15: the next few scenes are confusing. Addy’s taking,,, a pill. Idk what pill because she never did drugs. And Nate’s standing over a person. Maybe his dad? He’s very frantic so I think it is his dad

16: kind of unrelated but is that the funeral house or the Rojas’ house?

17: Oh wow there’s really some animosity between Cooper and Bronwyn huh? “Why should we trust you”? Cooper never really had an opinion on Bronwyn. Also, they never explicitly said they needed to work together this early on, I’m intrigued if they’ll follow through.

18: they’re making Detective Wheeler a real enemy here and you know what? They should she outed Cooper

19:

Also this is the cardigan Bronwyn wears when she tells Maeve that telling the truth won’t help anything, so I’m interested to see what causes Maeve to say that. And look at Nate looking at Bronwyn 🥺

20: again with the trunk scene what does Bronwyn keep in her car???

21: So Nate’s leaving that’s interesting. Either he’s packing his stuff when arrested but there would be more officers if that happened, or he’s running away? Not sure

22: Janae? And Maeve? In the same scene? That’s gonna be fun.

also if Maeve doesn’t yell at Janae about how awful Simon was then what’s the point? But also why does Maeve look so sad? I get that death is sad but she hated him.

23: look it’s an Evan sighting. Yuck

24: Look it’s Jake dressed up for what I have to assume is their homecoming

25:

is that Addy’s mom, Nate’s mom, or Simon’s mom? Judging by how broken she looks it’s either Simon’s mom or Nate’s mom.

26: Vanessa and TJ at a party together suggests that this is pre Addy drama, but also she looks really cocky.

27: I get why someone would assume this is prom, but also prom happens at the end of the year, it’s more likely this is homecoming.

Also Keely looks like... a lot.

28: What’s up with that safe?

29: Cooper’s chasing somebody that’s cool

30:

judging by the high heels I’m assuming Addy is spying on her old friend group?

31: Okay detective Wheeler is spying on Nate now? And also those people looked unfamiliar so the fight probably is a drug transaction gone wrong, which is why Det. Wheeler looks so pleased.

32: also mask? What? Is that Vanessa or Addy?

33: Nate, at a pool? Talking to a girl with dark hair? Vanessa and TJ at a pool? Is this a flashback type scene where Nate hooks up with Keely? Because in the teaser when Nate was kissing another girl he was wearing the same thing.

34:

okay so look at Addy’s face. She’s upset. Cooper is confused. Everyone’s looking at them. So I’m assuming that this is another post with the stuff about the Bayview Four, but it’s before Cooper was outed because you can just tell that he has no idea what’s going on.

honorable mention to Bronwyn untying that bow-tie btw

#one of us is lying #one of us is lying tv show #bronwyn rojas #nate macauley #cooper clay #addy prentiss #maeve rojas #vanessa clark #tj forrester #simon kelleher #janae vargas #long post #also i can't look at this anymore sorry if there are grammatical errors

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years ago

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✄ chapter two: keep it cool like iced tea

a/n: here's chapter two! obvi this is just building the plot and storyline, but we're seeing the beginnings of the magic! anyways, let me shut up so u can read. ok bye!

wc: 2k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

To say you sucked at pong was a vast understatement.

And although you really didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of this very nice, very tall, very attractive guy, you can't help but feel like an idiot when you sink your first shot into a cup halfway through the game.

You're definitely on your way drunk with the amount of shots Natasha and Sam have scored on you, plus all the ones you've missed.

When Natasha told you to let loose tonight, you're not so sure this is what she meant, though. You see her laughing and giving you eyes from across the table, while your face is bright red. You brush off her looks with a roll of your eyes, darting them back to Bucky.

Bucky.

Bucky with the incredibly nice hands and arms, who seems to be making the shots for the both of you. Bucky who's been occasionally slinging an arm over your shoulders, paying close attention to you. Bucky who's been asking you questions about yourself, that you've returned back, and received witty responses to.

"So, where 're ya from, Y/N?" He asks in a slurred voice, but you can tell he's not exactly drunk yet.

"I'm from New York. You?" You ask, throwing back another drink from a shot that Nat made into your cup.

"No shit! I'm from Brooklyn!" He smiles, a big, bright smile that tugs at your heartstrings for some reason.

"I'm Manhattan born and raised, mister." You return his blinding smile.

"Small world, huh?" He laughs, once again wrapping his arm around you. "Can't believe we've never ran into each other before."

"Well, New York City's quite large, Bucky." You giggle, and he laughs back. As you feel your face warm up, he looks down at you with something akin to adoration in his eyes. Bucky towers over you, deciding that the pong game was over between the four of you.

He walks back to the kitchen, assuming that you'd follow him.

But he turns around to ask you in you'd like something to drink, and you're not there.

You're still chatting with Natasha and Sam, and it takes him a second to realized you wouldn't just follow after him. You didn't really give him the impression of being that type of girl.

Which is what intrigued him more about you. You weren't worshipping the ground he walked on, you didn't initiate conversation too much, and you didn't drool over him like every other girl he's met.

He suddenly feels a surge of awkwardness. He sees you talking animatedly with Sam and Natasha, and now Steve has joined in the conversation. You were talking completely comfortably with them, much more comfortably than you were with him.

It makes him wonder what he'll have to do to get you to get like that with him.

What he'll have to do to make you trust him.

"Hey, Y/N, I was gonna head to the kitchen and grab a drink. Wanna join?" He questions, seeing his friends giving him cocked eyebrows in confusion.

Bucky could usually get any girl he wanted. Especially at a party like this one. Why was he so hell-bent on spending time with you?

"O-Oh! Sure, I'll join you." You excuse yourself from the group, and Bucky slings his arm through your waist to guide you through the crowd. You feel you stomach flip in a way you've never felt before, and feel your cheeks redden.

"So, what can I get you?" Bucky practically yells over the music, trying to meet your eyes. You avert them quickly, and simply tell him a vodka lemonade.

He hands it to you with a strange look in his eyes, and you give him a kind smile while taking your first sip.

"God, you trying to get me wasted here?" You gag with a laugh, looking into your cup and back to Bucky.

"Sorry, doll, might'a gone a bit heavy on the vodka. You still good to drink it?" He queries with genuine concern in his eyes.

And although you already well on your way to drunk, past tipsy, you give fervent nod, and give it another sip.

It was good.

As the night had progressed further, you had two more of Bucky's vodka lemonades.

And now, you were drunk.

You also didn't know where Natasha was, but she was probably off somewhere with Sam, so you weren't worried for her safety.

Bucky was still by your side throughout the whole night, offering to dance, and even just sit and talk.

Which is what you were doing right now. In the middle of the crowd, you were practically on top of Bucky while you two talked about anything from academics to your daily lives.

"So, in your major, what would you say was the dumbest thing someone's asked?" He laughs, and he's clearly also past the line of tipsy and has fallen into drunk, right with you.

"Uhhh... oh! One time, this guy-"

"Doll, I can't really hear ya." Bucky laughs

"Oh, sorry," You blush, trying to speak louder, but it still wasn't working.

"Do you- would you be okay with just goin' up to my room? Don't think we'll get much of anythin' done down here." He gives you a look that says 'I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you want me to.'

It sends a shiver down your spine, and you stand up, waiting for him to guide you up the stairs.

You knew you weren't going to have sex with him. You had only met him four hours ago, and no matter how many girls he could pull in that time, you were not interested in being one of them.

"Just so you know now, I'm not planning on sleeping with you." You burst out while you're halfway up the stairs, your eyes going wide at your own words.

"Huh," Bucky chuckles, "I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but I didn't think this is where that was going. Just wanted to continue to conversation." He smiles down at you, finally opening his door.

Of course, Bucky was lying right through his teeth. Of course he wanted to sleep with you. You were nice, smart, had a hell of a body, and had kept his attention the longest out of any girl he's ever met. But when it comes down to it, he was a boy.

And boys usually only thought with one organ; their dicks.

As the lamp flicks on, a small glow filters over the room, giving it a cozy feel. You, on the other hand, felt nothing but cozy.

"You can sit anywhere. Wanna watch somethin'?" He asks, tossing you the remote while you stood, frozen at the doorway.

"I- uh, sure?" You ask, more than you tell him, but sit down on his bed. You were careful to not flash him while you adjusted yourself, not sure of what to do.

The last thing you needed tonight was the most notorious playboy on campus seeing your black lace thong right now.

"Do you wanna change into somethin' more comfortable, angel?" Again, your stomach has butterflies trying to escape at his sweet words. But you knew better than to think too much into it. he probably said these names to every girl who's come into this very bed.

Ew, you think to yourself, this bed must have STDs sewn in the sheets by now.

"I- sure? If you have anything that fits, I guess." You grumble.

"Sure, I've got a t-shirt and boxers, if you want? Don't have much else, honestly." He laughs lightly, handing you the items and points to the bathroom in the corner of his room.

As you're standing in the middle of Bucky Barnes' jack and jill bathroom, you take a moment and think to yourself.

How did I get here?

Will he ask me to sleep here?

Does he still expect anything from me?

I hope not.

I'm really tired.

Ugh. Whatever. I'm too tired to think this much right now.

You pull of your dress that you couldn't stand to be in anymore, and put on the clothes Bucky had provided you with.

They were quite large on you, considering the guy was about the size of bigfoot. But you couldn't find it in yourself to complain about it right now.

You exit the bathroom, setting the dress down on the floor where you had kicked off your heels, and sit back down next to Bucky on his bed.

You feel your skin slide under the blanket that was thrown over him, and focus on the TV screen.

"So, what're we watching?" You query, trying to figure out what was playing.

Little did you know, Bucky was still thinking about the way you had looked when you walked out of the bathroom. It did something to him, seeing you in his clothes like that, for some reason.

The way you were practically swimming in them, and the way you knuckled at your eyes tiredly that made him want to hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep.

He was trying to shake the thoughts from his head, wondering what the hell had gotten into him with these thoughts.

Since when did he, Bucky Barnes, think about a girl like this? It was usually much dirtier and nastier in his head, but you were doing something to him.

"Bucky? Everything alright up there?" You giggle, knocking on his skull lightly.

"I- yeah, all good, doll." He shakes his thoughts away, focusing back on you. "I put on whatever was playing, didn't switch it because I didn't know what you liked." Bucky explains.

"Hm, well this seems good. We can just keep this on?" You suggest, realizing that Home Alone 2 was playing on his TV. "I love this movie. This kid's got some real class." You chuckle, now fully watching the movie.

"He's a genius, I'll give 'im that much." Bucky laughs, also fixing his gaze on the movie.

In the hour that passed, you two have made small talk about the movie here and there, and every time, Bucky's gaze became transfixed on you. With the glow of the TV illuminating your face, with the way you smiled and threw your head back when you laughed, he couldn't help it.

Finally, the movie had come to a close, and Bucky could tell you were fighting sleep. You were practically asleep sitting up against his headboard.

"You wanna spend the night here, doll?" He wonders out loud, looking over to you.

You shoot him a look, a playful glare with a hint of a smile.

"I mean, it's a bit late for me to head back to my dorm. But no funny business, mister." You point a finger at him, and Bucky holds his hands up in the air.

"No funny business, I promise." He holds out his pinky to you, to which you curl yours around, and latch on.

Once the lamp next to his side of the bed is turned off, you slide further down in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position. After a few minutes of adjusting, you snuggle your head into the pillows that smell like laundry detergent and his cologne.

"Goodnight, Bucky," you say out loud into the darkness while you both face each other.

"G'night doll. See ya in the morning." Bucky's voice is a low baritone, clearly about to succumb to the sleep he was fighting.

"See ya in the morning." You reply, finally letting your eyes fall shut.

That night, you dream of Bucky Barnes and his cologne.

And across from you, Bucky Barnes dreams of a world where this is normal. A world where you sleep next to him every night, and you wake him up every morning with a kiss.

Man, I'm totally fucked, is the last thought he has before falling into a sleep surrounded by you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #fratboy!bucky #frat!bucky x reader #frat!bucky #frat!au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine

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shhhlikeme · 4 years ago

Text

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Birthday Event Req By @juminly :

So I was trying to request the following >.<: a NSFW Ushi drabble with f!reader. Ushi being triggered by jealousy or something that happened between f!reader and someone else? I initially wrote a few kinks and you could go ahead with whatever inspires you! [cockwarming, face-sitting, blowjob, mirror sex, bondage, dirty talk or anything else tbh... and soft!dom!ushi]

———————————

A/N: I’m glad we overcame the technical difficulties for you to eventually send this req. hope you like it babes. I still have 2 more reqs from the event that shouldn’t take too long, thanks for being patient!

(NSFW 18+)

———————————

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Sooooooooo

It’s canon that Ushi is a very calm and collected bf

Your friends love him ��

Your pet loved him 💕

And your family loves him

Or that’s what Ushi always thought...... until tonight.

You and Toshi went to your parents house for an elegant middle aged people dinner party they were throwing with all their friends from the neighborhood

Ushijima wore a suit and everything 💜💜💜 you wore in a beautiful green dress and small heels to match him

CUTIES

The dinner party was great: 🎶 classy , bougie, ratchet extremely classy haha 💎

Until.......

your parent’s best friends’ son—Jeremy—happened to be home too.

Actually , he surprised everyone, crashing the party unexpectedly

And he brought gifts🤨.

Making a huge entrance that had everyone screaming in delight and hugging him, Ushijima couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way your family fawned over your childhood friend

Your parents can’t help but gush over Jeremy, because they’ve always wanted you to marry him and move with him to America to study cosmetic surgery

In high school you two dated a little, but then you realized it was all for the benefit of your parents and you agreed to break up but remained distant friends

You were good with that , as you thought it was a mutual decision

But it wasn’t. Jeremy truly had feelings for you and they hadn’t stopped just because he moved away and finished med school

“These are for you, Y/N.” Jeremy smoothly handed you a bouquet of your favourite type of flowers

You hadn’t the heart to tell him your favourite type had changed since high school :S

“And Wakatoshi-san, I didn’t know you would be here. Apologies.” He shook his hand.

Ushijima’s face was hard. “I don’t know why I would not be.....?” He answered with a slight eyebrow raise, squeezing Jeremy’s hand right back.

Hose down that fire Y/N

Anyway, even though your parents like Ushi a lot, it was pretty obvious to you AND your boyfriend that both them + Jeremy’s parents never gave up hope that you two would one day get back together

Not to mention They were as subtle as elephants in a library

They got the fucking photo album, showing everyone including Ushijima pictures of you and Jeremy bathing together as babies and kissing before prom

SMFH!

“Oh, you live in Beverly Hills, now?” Your mom’s eyes sparkled at Jeremy as he showed her pictures of his mansion on his phone. “Y/N looooves that part of Los Angeles, don’t you, honey?”

You noticed Ushijima stiffen. He was thinking about the love of his life, you, living in LA in Jeremy’s ugly mansion and it pissed this Ace off.

You nodded slowly, giving your mom a warning glance. “Sure, when I was 15.”

“Hey Jeremy, your father told me last weekend that you know of bunch of players on the LA Rams?”

Jeremy nodded proudly. “Yes sir. A lot of their wives and mothers are patients of mine, so the starting line up usually sends me Christmas cards with season passes and signed memorabilia so that I up their women on the waiting lists. Whenever you’re in America and you’d like to go see a game, just let me know.”

You rolled your eyes at how loud your father exclaimed in joy. “I keep telling you to call me YF/N!” He clapped. “And that’s a real sport right there. Football, Baseball, Soccer. Everything else is a joke to real men.” Your father finished.

“DAD!” You chastised, stomping your foot under the table.

“What—?”

You glowered are him. “In case you FORGOT.....Ushijima happens to be a professional volleyball player.”

Your dad had clearly forgotten, trying to blubber out an apology. Ushijima interrupted him, putting a hand on yours to settle his furious girlfriend.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I took no offence to it.” Ushi was used to other men not recognizing volleyball as a manly sport—he is very confident so that didn’t bother him. Rather, what stung was the fact that your father had never asked Toshi to call him by his first name before, and you two had been dating for three years.

To your dismay, Yours and Jeremys parents continued to say annoying shit like that all night

Jeremy loved it 🙄

You hated it, and defended your man at any chance you got

Ushijima stayed silent through it all, trying to calm you down actually.

Like I said he’s confident and not easily shaken

He only had had enough when the conversation changed to Jeremy’s explanation of liking his life and his career but it all never seeming good enough because of “the one that got away” and how “she seems happy in a relationship now” but “he would do anything to get her back”

Meanwhile he’s sneaking heartfelt glances at you 🤬🤬🤬🤢

Your mother and father were doting, looking at you and eachother as if to say “come onnnnn Y/N give him another chance”

Ushijima picked up on it all.

At one point during Jeremy’s explanation of ‘the one that got away’ you stuck your finger down your throat to make a gagging noise childishly

YOUR PARENTS WERE NOT HAPPY LMAO

anyway, at the end of the night you said bye to everyone..... and Jeremy asked to speak to you in private on the empty porch

Ushijima watched with a locked jaw by the car, leaning on it so he could stare openly

He was justly heated as he watched the conversation (but couldn’t hear anything) happening on the porch at night

He witnessed Jeremy write down what had to be his number and hold it in front of you for you to take

You hesitated, not sure if you should take it just to avoid causing more waves with both parents or to stomp on his foot

Luckily you didn’t need to do either because Ushijima had silently stormed over in a millisecond, whisking the paper from Jeremy’s hand, staring at his number written on the paper before crumbling it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t need it. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

Ushi grabbed your hand and walked you to the car angry af, you had to jog in your heels to keep up with him

This man was maaad and silent the whole way home, thinking about how everyone seems to be so sure that your ex could have given you a better life

He still held your hand the entire drive though, so clearly he wasn’t mad at you ❤️

He hated that everyone liked this Jeremy better all because he went down the conventional path to success:

Hadn’t Toshi paid for everything? Hadn’t Toshi massaged your feet? Hadn’t Toshi made you extremely happy? Hadn’t they seen how you were treated? Did you believe someone could do better?

Nonsense.

Toshi knew that he was the BEST boy and that no one could dare love you more or treat you better....... and you tended to agree

But Toshi needed to hear you say it.

He needed to feel it, too.

Upon arriving at yours & Toshi’s gorgeous modern home:

Toshi hurriedly closed the door

you hadn’t even fully taken off your heels yet when you felt your boyfriend pressed himself against you from behind, lifting your dress up and rubbing his long hard cock print on your pantied pussy lips as you bent over

You moaned and started to get wet immediately

“Take off the panties.” He ordered.

you did obviously 😭 almost tripped with how fast you did it

Horny bish lol

Your boyfriend then picked you up in his strong arms and walked a few steps into the foyer, placing you so your ass was sitting on the 7th marble stair. He knelt down in between your legs and spread them while you sat on the staircase

He squeezed your ass in his large hands and dove into your pussy with his lips then tongue, immediately skipping the gentle licks... and tongue fucking your entrance into oblivion

His tongue was wet, strong and needy and fuck you choked on your own cries

You threw your head back, already screaming Ushi’s name

“Mmm scream my name just like that. Let everyone hear who you belong to.” He paused tongue fucking you to order.

you shuddered as you felt his warm breath on your clit and Ushi expertly enclosed his mouth around your sopping cunt, French kissing your clit into his mouth and sucking on it like a tiny lollipop

You tugged on his hair and screamed his name louder, feeling your interior walls clench

Once your legs started shaking because you were about to fall over the edge, Ushi picked you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist

Toshi bent down quickly to empty his pockets which consisted of his keys, wallet, and his phone, placing it where you were just sitting when he was eating you out

Ushiwaka pressed your back against the wall beside the staircase.....

He held your entire body weight with one arm as he leaned in to kiss your neck, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off

When he was freed & nude, he asked you kindly if you were ready and once you nodded he put one of his feet on the sixth stair, the other on the fifth, then thrusted deep into your soaking heat

He wasted no time in pounding you into the wall, the slight pain of the hard wall and your boyfriend’s hard dick somehow heightening the pleasure factor

Ushijima took both of your wrists in his gigantic hand and locked them above your head as he gave you nice and deep thrusts the way you both like it

“So fucking wet. All because of me, correct? I’m the only one who makes your pussy drip like this.”

Your pussy answered:💧 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Your vaginal walls squeezed around his dick and you bit his shoulder because the pleasure disallowed you to speak and Ushi groaned out

“Say. This. Tight. Pussy. Is. Mine.” He grunted as he circled his hips a bit while pounding, his voice grave.

Toshi picked up the pace as your soaking wet walls clenched around him even more from his dirty talk.

“Say. Who. This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Beautiful.”

You were being fucked too well, you couldn’t speak, you could only moan ... like usual

But your boyfriend wasn’t having any of that tonight.

He let go of your captive wrists and held you with both hands again, stepping downstairs and stopping in front of the large mirror in your foyer, turning so that only you could see yourself poking over his large shoulder, along with your boyfriend’s fine juicy ass and back calf muscles 🤤

Ushi grabbed the back of your neck (not enough to hurt) but just enough so that your head was up and you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He began to fuck you again, getting nice and deep in your pussy as he made you bounce on his dick in his arms

“Are you seeing yourself?” He laughed sexily. “Getting dumb-fucked, Princess? Whose dick are you taking, Y/N?” Wakatoshi groaned as your pussy clenched around him even more. He could tell you were about to cum and that he wouldn’t be long after. But he needed to hear you say something first.

“Who is your first choice, Y/N? Who fucks you like this every night? Who’s dick can you never get enough of? Me? Or Him?”

In your stupor, you watched yourself in the mirror: Toshi’s delectable ass flexing as he pushed in and out of you, feeling his strong hand gripping your neck. You weren’t a big talker during sex and bae knew that, but the amazing feeling of this angry jealous sex was too much, his big dick felt too fucking good..... and one particularly hard thrust from him that grazed your g-spot in the besssst way gave you the energy to cry out;

“YOU, TOSH. FUCK THAT JEREMY, HE COULD NEVER FUCK ME LIKE YOU DO. OR TAKE CARE OF ME LIKE YOU DO. I DON’T WANT OR NEED ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU. YOU’RE THE BEST BOY WITH THE BEST DICK. NO ONE CAN EVEN C-COME CLOSE TO YOU. YOU —OH, OH, OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA—“

Wakatoshi let go of your neck, landing soft kisses on your neck while he returned to gripping your ass with both hands now, sliding you up and down his long, hard, soaking wet dick from your juices.

It felt so fucking good 😩

“That’s right princess. I’ve heard enough, baby. I knew it: I just needed to hear you say it. Now cum for me.”

when you did, you made sure to scream out all the praises you always told toshi when you weren’t getting fucked, making him feel like a King, reassuring him that your mind, body, and soul belonged to him and NO ONE else.

Wakatoshi found his release soon after from your pussy but also from your words, shooting his thick cum up inside you for you to take as he caressed your back and whispered how much he loved you in your ear.

Then, as you laid limp in his arms, he left his cock to stay warm inside you and went back to the stairs, fully prepared to go head up and bathe you, then put you to bed.

But as he passed the sixth step, though, Toshi bent down to pick up his keys, wallet and phone that he’d set there.

As you fell asleep on his shoulder, Ushi grinned at his phone screen, pressing send to the voicemail message he’d just recorded.

Whoops 😏 must have accidentally butt-dialed someone before fucking you and left a long message by accident

😕ohno😕

With a photographic memory, it wasn’t difficult for the Ace to remember such a plastic surgeon’s phone number when Ushi saw it on the note.....

And Toshi could explain to you how sorry he was that he’d accidentally dialed it before railing you to sleep on the stairs and in the foyer

But truth be told, your boyfriend’s only real regret would be not being able to see the look on Jeremy’s face when he listened to it on his flight back home.

Bday Event Masterlist

#aone and ushijima birthday event #ushijima smut #wakatoshi smut #ushiwaka x reader #ushiwaka x y/n #ushiwaka x you #haikyuu boys #haikyuu!!#sexy hq boys #haikyuu stories #hq headcanons #haikyu headcannons #haikyuu imagines #hq sexy stories

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miyagihawk · 4 years ago

Note

Could you maybe write one where Robby or Hawk asks y/n to prom? You don’t have to if you don’t have the time <3

thank you so much for requesting !! this will be my first robby one yayyyy

promposal | robby keene x reader

warnings: fluff, maybe swearing?, also quite cheesy but i love cheesy

summary: prom season is arriving, and you don’t have a date. but you’re kind of hoping a certain someone will ask you.

word count: 1,516

(this one’s set around season 2 and y/n is in miyagi do with sam, robby, and demetri)

“Ugh, prom. Just another excuse for horny teenagers to publicly grind on each other and dress up all nice for it,” Demetri scoffs as you two pass a promposal on the way to Bio class.

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re always such a pessimist. I think prom is cute,” you argue.

“Of course you think it’s cute, you’re a girl. Girls like dressing up and all that romantic shit. So you’re going?” he asks.

You shrug. “I don’t know, I mean no one’s asked me but maybe I’ll just go with Sam or something. I take it you’re not going?”

“Oh I’m going. I hate it, but it’s still part of the high school experience,” the black haired boy wiggles his fingers at you and you laugh. “What about Robby?”

Your heart flutters at the mention of his name.

You’ve had a crush on Robby ever since you met him when you joined Miyagi Do. His kind eyes and dedication to karate made you fall for him fast. With practice at the dojo everyday, he’s become one of your best friends, along with Sam and Demetri. But you’ve hidden your feelings for him because you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same.

“Um... what about Robby?” you question nervously, wondering if your feelings have been obvious.

“Oh come on, he’s obviously going to ask you to go with him,” Demetri muses, and you two walk into your class.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shake your head, setting your books down on your desk.

Robby has never said anything about prom. He doesn’t even look like the type of guy to go. But you feel yourself hoping that what Demetri is saying is true.

“Oh Y/N, Y/N. Always so oblivious,” he taps your head before going to his own desk and ending the conversation.

Demetri is probably messing with you, but the whole period you zone out, thinking about what prom with Robby would be like.

Karate training was cancelled for some reason, so you took the extra time to catch up on your schoolwork at home.

Suddenly, the sound of your ringtone pierces the air, making you jump at the sudden break in silence.

You read the caller ID and it’s Sam. She never really calls you, so you begin to worry that something is wrong.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Y/N! Oh my god, something’s wrong! You need to come to the dojo, like right now!” Sam exclaims, making your chest pound with anxiety.

“Wait what, Sam! What happened?” you frantically sputter. Thousands of scenarios flood your mind all at once. Is there a fire? Did the dojo get trashed again? Is someone dying?

You hear shuffling and whispers on the other side of the phone before Sam blurts, “Just come Y/N! Hurry!”

In a panicked manner, you rush around your room to put on your shoes and get your car keys. Regularly a 15 minute drive, it takes you 5 minutes to get to the dojo. You got a few honks and middle fingers as you stepped heavy on the gas, but the urgency of Sam’s voice made you not care.

You slam your car door shut and run around the front to the backgate. But before you could open it, something covers your eyes and all you could see is black.

You realize that they’re hands from someone behind you and in your frenzied state, your first instinct is to elbow the person’s chest.

After the hit, your eyes are released and you hear a groan from behind you. You turn around in fear to see who you were expecting to be a murderer. But it was Robby Keene on the ground with a pained look on his face.

“Oh my god, Robby what the fuck are you doing? I’m so sorry,” you rush over to where he lays on the floor. He clutches his chest where you hit him and you place your hands over his in worry.

“I was trying to be romantic,” he chuckles, sitting up to face you. He was grinning, even though you just sucker punched him with the sharpest bone in your body.

“W-What? I thought you were a serial killer! What happened, where’s Sam? Is she okay?” you stammer, not even noticing what Robby just said.

“Nothing happened Y/N, calm down. We just needed you to come here,” he rests his hand on your shoulder to calm your panicked breathing, and your cheeks tint pink at his touch.

“I- So- Nothing happened? Why am I here?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. There’s just so many things happening at once and you were kind of expecting a disaster.

Robby stands up and reaches his hand out to where you’re kneeling on the concrete. You take it in yours and feel yourself calm down from the chaos of the last 15 minutes.

“Can I cover your eyes now that you know it’s me?” he laughs, and you nod in confusion.

His fingers place over your eyes once again, blocking all of your vision as he leads you to walk to the backyard. You stumble a few times, but he finally stops your walking once you guys have reached a certain spot.

“Ready?” his voice says close to your ear, making you shiver from his unexpected proximity. He counts down from 3 to 1 before pulling his hands away and freeing your eyes.

You blink a few times to adjust to the brightness of the scene, then you see the beauty in front of you.

Fairy lights are strung around the big tree, lit up just in time for the setting of the sun. The pond holds floating candles that drift delicately around the water and a picnic blanket with food lays on the grass next to it.

The dojo looks nothing like where you guys sweat and train and sometimes bleed. It looks like a fairytale, and your mouth is slightly open at the realization that it’s all for you.

“Robby, what is-” you turn around to where he’s still standing behind you.

You almost want to cry at the view of him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. His signature side smile widens at the little gasp you let out when you see him.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you go to prom with me?”

No way. There’s no way Demetri was right. You stand there frozen at his question, not believing that it’s real. The boy of your dreams, asking you to prom. The boy of your dreams setting all of this up for you.

“Y/N?” his voice snaps you out of your trance, and your confused expression turns into a huge smile.

“Of course. Yes!” you beam, catching him by surprise when you jump into his arms to embrace him. He laughs into your shoulder as you squeeze him tight in appreciation.

“I love it all, thank you Robby. You really do know how to make a girl feel special,” you say in between bites of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Well you are special,” he smiles, admiring how cute you look with your cheeks filled with fruit.

“I’m so killing Sam by the way. I really thought I would come here and see a dead body!”

“I’m sorry, it was my idea. Kill me instead,” he chuckles at the recent memory of your worried frenzy.

“I will. But after prom,” you joke and pop another strawberry into your mouth.

After some cute banter and more yummy food that Robby made, you two lay down on the blanket to try and see the stars. The smog of the Valley doesn’t give much of a view, but if you look hard enough it’s there.

The conversation has faded out, and you’re deep in thought. Does this mean he likes you? Are you guys together now? Asking you to prom doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

The question leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

“So... is this a friends going to prom together kind of thing? Or is it a couple going to prom together kind of thing?” you blurt, interrupting the pondering silence between you two.

Yours and his eyes stay stuck on the night sky. He thinks for a moment and you play with your fingers in anticipation.

“It’s up to you... but I like you Y/N. A lot,” he admits, setting fireworks off in your stomach.

All this time, you’ve both had feelings for each other. But you’ve danced around it like it’s a fire pit that can’t be touched. You almost want to laugh in disbelief, because you were so sure that you would keep your heart locked and live forever with longing stares. You thought you would be stuck watching him with someone else because you’d never have the guts to actually say what you feel. But you’re wrong.

Robby’s head is turned towards you now, and you take your eyes off of the stars to look at him. He looks nervous, waiting for your response to his confession.

Instead of talking, you reply with a long awaited kiss.

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #cobrakai #robbykeene #Robby Keene #robby cobra kai #robby keene imagine #Robby Keene x reader

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jisungsmochi · 3 years ago

Text

somebody to you - hrj

somebody to you - renjun

behold,, the FINAL part of my nct dream x the vamps songs series! leaving y’all with something really wholesome and fluffy bc i’m inlove with renjun

word count: 2.8k

summary: huang renjun didn’t like relationships. he thought they were messy, and honestly, a waste of time. he had his whole life ahead of him, so why would he need a significant other to be happy? that was all until he met you, and thought to himself, maybe it wouldn’t be all bad...

read the rest here!

I used to wanna be

Living like there's only me

But now I spend my time

Thinking 'bout a way to get you off my mind

renjun scrolled through his endless instagram feed, swiping through threads of his friends with their girlfriends. he would be lying if he said it didn’t make him

borderline sick. he was always a realist, never really seeing the point of having a serious relationship at such a young age. in his life so far, he’d probably say he’s only had one girlfriend, and it was a random girl he asked to prom so he wouldn’t feel left out. renjun was never opposed to love, he just wasn’t actively seeking it.

“dude i reckon you’re gonna like her! she’s super cool from the sounds of it, and she goes to our university!” haechan insists as the four boys sat down for dinner in their shared apartment.

“i don’t need you to set me up on a blind date. i’m capable of finding someone on my own, thank you very much” renjun rolled his eyes, fed up with the continuous discussions of his single status.

“yeah, and how’s that going for you?” jaemin chimed in, causing jeno and haechan to chuckle in response. renjun just scoffed, shoving his mouth with more food to avoid speaking further.

“give it a chance. the worst that could happen is that you don’t vibe with her and you never talk to her again” jeno tries his best to convince the stubborn boy. renjun just shrugs, his mind contemplating the idea.

“okay fine, one date. if you guys really think she’s soo good for me, let’s see how accurate you guys are” renjun snickers. he was not confident in their matchmaking skills at all, but he loved seeing them fail.

“perfect, i’ll set it up for you. just sit back, relax and be your boring self” haechan grins, tapping away on his phone. renjun ignores the cheeky boy’s comments, finishing up his dinner. his first date in over two years, this should be good...

I used to be so tough

Never really gave enough

And then you caught my eye

Giving me the feeling of a lightning strike

renjun was regretting this date already. all he knew about you was your first name and your uni course, nothing else. the boys had refused to show him any photos of you, claiming that it would be more ‘romantic’ if he fell for you at first sight...what a cliche, he thought to himself.

“how will i even know it’s her, if i don’t know what she freaking looks like?” renjun groaned, nerves slowly building up as haechan pulled up to the date location.

“i’ll point her out, okay? just trust me” renjun let out a short sigh, hands slightly jittery. why the hell was he nervous? it wasn’t like he was going to see her after this one date.

as renjun stepped out of the car, his eyes scanned the scenery.

“jeez, you guys really went all out for this date” he was amazed by the view. it was a restaurant that was by the water, multiple little boats sailing across it and the sounds of birds humming.

“of course, you only deserve the best” haechan winked, eyes looking for renjun’s date.

“dude what if she doesn’t even show up. does she even know what i look like?” renjun was slightly panicking at this point, drifting from his tough exterior.

“haechan?” a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. renjun’s eyes diverted to the owner of the voice. he felt stunned by the sight of you, dressed neatly in some jeans and a flowery blouse. you had slightly curled your hair, hands clutching to your purse as you greeted the two boys infront of you.

“hey y/n, this is renjun, your date for tonight! see you kids later, don’t get up to anything crazy” haechan chuckled to himself, shoving renjun to meet you. renjun almost clashed into your smaller frame, catching you off guard. you gently held his arms, keeping a small distance between you both.

“o-oh my bad, i-i’m renjun” he stammered, eyes meeting yours. you were slightly blown away by his looks...he was really attractive. well done, haechan.

renjun would say the same about you. even though he didn’t have a particular type, (as he found it kind of dumb tbh) he believed you could fit it perfectly.

“i’m y/n! nice to meet you” you widely smiled, renjun returning your expression as he pulled out his hand for you to shake. maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Look at me now, I'm falling

I can't even talk, still stuttering

This ground I'm on, it keeps shaking

you were currently trying to hold back your laughter as renjun recounted the story of how he caught jaemin with his girlfriend...doing the nasty, during their first week of university.

“oh my goodness! were you scarred for life?” you slammed your fist on the table, causing others around you to glare. but renjun couldn’t even focus on them, attention solely on you.

“of course! it was the first week! like couldn’t they have just waited until midterms?” renjun chuckled at the memory, proud of himself that he made you laugh so much. he must be doing something right.

“you’re really funny, renjun. some of the other guys that haechan tried to set me up with were lowkey boring. i guess he sees me as boring too” you slightly frowned, watching as renjun piped up in his seat,

“y-you’re not boring at all! you’re funny! and pretty too” he muttered the last part, not wanting you to have heard. but you did. you decided not to linger on it much, afraid to make him too flustered.

“you’d be the first guy to say that” you shrugged, taking a small sip from your glass of water.

“have you had boyfriends in the past?” renjun suddenly asked, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“i-uh i’ve had a few. nothing too serious though, how about you?” you curiously ask in return, watching as renjun looked down to his lap. he hesitated before answering,

“i’ve only had one girlfriend before. i’m not really an avid dater” renjun admits to you, hoping that you didn’t find him lame.

“oh neither am i! we have another thing in common! i feel like relationships can get really difficult to manage, especially if you aren’t in the right headspace, you know?” you started rambling, renjun stringing along to your every word. he found such beauty in the way you articulated your words. he was so entranced he almost forgot to respond.

“i totally understand how you feel, i’ve always thought that i should live my life to the fullest before i consider settling down” he commented, causing you to nod along. you really liked his answers, it seemed like you were both on the same page about relationships. you didn’t expect to enjoy his company this much, initially agreeing to go on the date so that haechan would stop teasing you for not having a boyfriend in uni yet.

you walked alongside renjun, waiting for your roommate to pick you up.

“i had a really good time tonight, renjun. thankyou” you kindly complimented, causing renjun to become more shy (if that was even possible).

“no thankyou! there were times i felt kind of awkward, but you really know how to carry a conversation” he smiled, watching as you started to get shy.

“are you flirting with me, huang renjun?” you teased, nudging his arm gently.

“so what if i am?” he nudged you back,

“well i don’t think i’d want you to stop” you smirked. before renjun could say anything back, your heard the familiar voice of your roommate urging you to get in her car.

“oh that’s my ride. i have to get going. this was nice, i’ll see you around renjun!” you hurriedly embraced the boy, placing a gentle peck to his cheek before rushing to your roommate’s car.

renjun still didn’t say anything back to you, his body frozen from your touch.

‘no no no’ he thought to himself...he was falling for her.

All I wanna be, yeah, all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah

Is somebody to you

Everybody's tryna be a billionaire

But every time I look at you, I just don't care

“so are you gonna tell us about the date or do we have to call and ask her instead?” haechan teased as the rest of the boys sat in their living room. renjun has a book in his hands, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet after his long night.

“gosh, will you let me finish this chapter?” renjun huffed, causing jaemin and jeno to snicker. haechan pulled out his phone, holding it to renjun’s face,

“oh would you look at that? it would be a shame for my finger to slip and dial y/n” before he could continue, renjun hurriedly tossed his book to the side, tackling the pestering boy onto the ground, holding him down firmly.

“holy shit, did you get stronger?“ haechan could barely speak, still in shock from the sudden attack. renjun slowly leans back, letting out a tired sigh.

“you two are ridiculous, let’s cut to the chase, did you like her or not?” jaemin rolled his eyes, ready to hear all the tea.

renjun looked from side to side, not liking all the attention that was on him.

“i-she was really cool. honestly yeah, i did like her. but i don’t think she’s looking for anything too serious at the moment” renjun shook his head, thinking back to your heated discussion about relationships.

“okay that sounds like a cop out excuse. i think you’re just scared” jeno chimed in, the two other boys nodding along. renjun glared at them, trying his best to maintain his composure.

“yeah, i mean, did anything happen aside from good conversation?” jaemin continued to push, renjun now becoming more reserved. of course he trusted his friends, but they never really openly spoke about their feelings like this, it was quite new to all of them.

“she kissed me on the cheek before she left, does that mean something?” renjun muttered, watching as haechan tips himself over, now laying on the ground.

“you’re an idiot, must we spell it out for you? she’s totally into you as well” jeno groaned in frustration.

truth was, renjun wasn’t sure how to properly ask someone out, nonetheless be in a proper relationship with them. he was in desperate need of help...but all he had were his three idiot friends.

“i know i don’t know her well and all, but after she left, i couldn’t stop thinking about her. is this what it’s like to fall for someone? oh god...i’m falling” renjun started rambling to himself, jaemin and jeno now rested against him, shoulder touching either of his.

“the answer is pretty clear, man. go for a second date! make the move, she might be thinking the exact same thing” jeno shrugged, trying his best to advise his friend, the best he could. renjun bidded, actually agreeing with jeno for once.

suddenly, renjun felt his phone ringing. he immediately picked it up without looking at the caller ID.

as if you were listening in on their conversation, your voice rang through renjun’s ear.

“hello? is this renjun?” you nervously stammered, waiting for a response. renjun was completely frozen, his mouth hung wide as jeno pressed his own ear closer to the phone.

“y-yes this is him” renjun finally spat out, hands slightly shaking.

“oh great, this is probably coming as a surprise to you. but i uh, wanted to know if you’d be interested in going on another date” you were able to finish, heart racing as you held the phone tightly. renjun felt his heart stop after your words, jeno shaking him gently to snap out of his daze.

“o-oh yeah, i’d be really interested” renjun replies, mentally face palming himself for sounding a little too eager.

“amazing, i’ll keep in touch” you smiled to yourself, trying your best to contain your excitement. eventually you hung up, screaming into your pillow, kicking your feet up and down. was this how it felt to actually like someone?

“there’s your chance, don’t blow it!” haechan teased, throwing a cushion over to renjun who was still frozen well after the call had ended.

‘holy shit’ he mumbled.

the date you had planned for renjun, involved attending the local food markets they held once a month. you thought it would be a social enough setting for conversation to not get too awkward, as well as enjoy a variety of food. renjun met you at the bus stop, dressed in baggy jeans and a blue wind runner jacket. his hair was slightly styled, some strands gelled back. it really accentuated his facial features, making you admire him even more than you did before.

“you look really good today, i mean, not like you don’t look good everyday i’m sure you do..” you shook your head at your rambling, wanting nothing more but for him to laugh it off. renjun just smirked at you, planning another witty comment to respond,

“not as good as you though” he gently guided you to walk with him, his hand travelling to the small of your back. you slightly froze at the contact, but aimlessly followed him. he surely had his way with words.

as you both tasted some amazing food, renjun found him standing quite close to you. if you were trying a sample, he would stand behind you, his chest touching your back occasionally. it seemed really natural to him, and you didn’t mind it at all. he would often touch your shoulder gently to grab your attention, or pull you along by your waist. it gave you massive butterflies that you could shake off.

“did you want to start heading home? we can walk to the bus stop together” renjun offered kindly, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you slowly made your way out of the large crowd. just as you were about to respond, rain started sprinkling from the sky. renjun quickly moved you to stand under some shelter as the rain came pouring.

“how the hell are we meant to walk in this?” you half shouted, clutching onto renjun’s side. he couldn’t bear moving you away from him,

“let’s just run, we can’t wait for it to pass” he suddenly took your hand, pulling you along as he bolted to the nearest bus stop.

“you’re so crazy, renjun!” you shout at the boy, giggling at the entire situation. before you knew it, renjun span you around, pulling you close to his chest.

“the only thing i’m crazy about is you” he confessed, catching you completely off guard. he had a habit of making such flirty comments, but this time you felt he wasn’t trying to joke around.

“w-what?” rain was washing over the both of you, your clothes completely soaked at this point.

“i really like you, y/n. i really freaking do. i didn’t want to admit it at first because i was scared of the idea of dating. but i want to be with you. i want to be somebody to you. everyone is out here trying to settle down and start their lives, but i feel like with you we can go at a steady pace. i don’t want to rush things, incase it gets messy, and difficult. but i just needed you to know that i really like you, and i hope it’s not all in my head that you like me back” renjun firmly confessed to you, eyes never leaving yours. you slowly raised your hand to wipe some rain drops off his face, watching as he smiled into your touch. he held you tightly in his arms, awaiting your response.

“renjun, i think i made it really clear that i like you back. i was also nervous about how you’d react, considering you weren’t really looking for anything serious at first. i think we should give it a shot, we can worry about all the stress and possible fights later on. all i know is that right now, you’re the only person i want to be standing in the rain with. now can you please kiss me?” you couldn’t contain your smile as renjun leaned into you. his lips pressing gently against yours. your fingers now running through his wet hair as he held your waist firmly. the kiss started getting deeper, the atmosphere really playing into the romantic nature of it all. eventually you both pulled away, foreheads presses against eachother, softly giggling.

that was the beginning of your relationship with renjun. despite having ups and downs (as expected) you both persevered and tried your absolute hardest to make things work. renjun finally admitted to himself: falling inlove wasn’t so bad...especially when it was with the right person.

#huang renjun #nct dream imagine #nct dream fluff #nct dream fic #nct renjun imagine #nct renjun fic #nct dream renjun #nct writing #nct fluff #nct fic #nct imagines #renjun imagine #renjun fluff #jisungsmochi masterlist #jisungsmochiimagines

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rowanwhitethornisbae · 4 years ago

Text

Faking It Ch 3

A/N: I don't remember Aedion’s mom every being explicitly named in the series so I just kinda made up a name. I picture her as being the young cool aunt so that’s just my portrayal, not canon lmao.

Also I'm going to reveal what happened between them in the next few chapters so send me some theories in my asks!!!

Despite Aelin's attempts to forget about Rowan, the day continued to drag on slowly. First science class, where somehow her brain managed to relate molecular compounds to Rowan's face. Then lunch, when luckily Aedion had managed to distract her with donuts for the short fifty minutes. Now she was back in the last period of the day, left to brew in her own apprehension as the on-screen lecture lapsed by and turned into silent reading.

Rowan had agreed to drive them both to her house after school, saving Aelin from walking back in the crisp autumn weather. She’d put more energy into her appearance today than she’d like to admit. If Aelin had one thing she love about herself, it would be her style. Today she was wearing a slightly too short wrap skirt and a loose satin black button up which she tucked one side into the skirt. She had chosen to wear her platform Doc Martens, naively assuming she could handle the ankle pain. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she pulled back her short layers from her face with gold pins. Aelin fiddled with her hoop earrings as she watched the second hand move around the clock.

“You’ll be fine.” Lysandra whispered, her head still staring down at the book they were supposed to be silently reading.

Aelin scooted her chair a little closer to her friend, careful not to make a squeaking noise against the marble tile. “But what if I'm not?”

Lys didn't look up but Aelin couldn't tell she was no longer actually reading. “Then call me and we’ll get white girl wasted and watch pride and prejudice for the hundredth time.”

Aelin laughed under her breath, images of Mr. Darcy’s hand flex flashing though her mind. “Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers.”

Lysandra shot he a conniving look. “Maybe this is your chance to experience your own enemies to lovers?”

Aelin scoffed a little too loudly and someone behind them glared. “It would be more like friends who slept together to lovers to enemies to awkwardly fake dating to lovers.”

Lysandra stifled her laugh and went back to reading. Aelin was glad that she had someone to talk to about whatever the fuck she and Rowan were about to do. Saying she hadn't thought several times about putting the breaks on this whole thing would just be a futile lie. Rowan resented her, he’d made that much clear over their very brief and clipped conversations. A part of Aelin was holding onto a hope that today they’d be able to work some shit out at least. If not, she was in for an incredibly uncomfortable few months. If they even lasted that long.

Unable to focus, Aelin began doodling on the front of her binder. She was about to run out of space when the bell signalling the end of school rang at last. Aelin swung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed Lys’ hand, pulling them both out of the classroom.

“Holy fuck you are so pale.” Lysandra exclaimed.

Aelin released her and offered a small apologetic smile. “I feel like I might throw up.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Aelin spoke again. “Will you walk to his car with me?”

Lysandra grinned at her. “Duh! What are best friends for?”

Normally Aelin would've hugged her but she was too focused on not emptying the contents of her stomach on the school floor. Lysandra was going on about something trivial in her attempts to distract Aelin when she spotted him.

He was leaning against his car talking to Lorcan and Fenrys. Or more, Fenrys was talking and the other two were listening. Aelin approached him carefully, Lys an ever steady presence on her left.

“Hey.” She said softly. Fenrys’ talking ceased and all three massive males turned towards her. They all seemed to bear matching expressions; disdain. Despite Lorcan’s body language suggesting indifference, his eyes held a hatred Aelin had rarely seen before.

She swallowed nervously and bumped Lysandra lightly. Lys, thank god, received the message and smiled widely.

“I’m Lysandra.” She said, her voice filled with fake sweetness.

“We know.” Lorcan grumbled at the same time that Fenrys said “Nice to meet you.”

They both then shot each other matching looks and fell silent. “I’m fine guys.” Rowan said at last, his first time speaking thus far. He had yet to look straight at Aelin. “I’ll come over after.”

They nodded reluctantly and walked away, Lorcan fighting back a laugh at something Fen said.

Aelin pulled Lysandra into a long hug. “Call me if you need anything.” Lys whispered in her ear. Then they pulled away and her friend was gone, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone.

“Hi.” She said again.

He only nodded at her and walked around to the drivers seat of his car. She groaned internally, already dreading the next few hours.

The car ride to Aedion’s house, where Aelin had been living for two years, was deadly silent. It wasn't really awkward, just the type of tension that you were too scared to break in fear of a storm.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Aelin unbuckled her seatbelt and was halfway to the door before Rowan even got out. She unlocked the door with a spare key and walked into the house. Aedion and his mom, Althea, lived in a small semi a few miles from the high school. Upon Aelin’s parents sudden death, the spare room had been shifted into Aelin’s room and Althea had taken her in with a warm heart.

“Althea I'm home.” She called out into the house.

A voice came from the kitchen. “I made some sandwiches.”

Despite herself, Aelin smiled at the prospect of food. Without turning around, she led Rowan through the small hallway and into the kitchen.

Her aunt was sitting at the island, munching on celery and dip when they walked in. Upon recognizing Rowan, she dropped her food, mouth agape.

“Althea,” Aelin spoke through her teeth. “You remember Rowan. We’re going to study for a bit.” She silently begged her aunt not to question it.

Ever so slowly, her aunt nodded. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again Rowan.”

Aelin swiped the plate of sandwiches off of the table and handed them to Rowan. “Take these to my room. I’ll be up in a minute please.”

He nodded and turned on his heels quickly, clearly desperate to get out of this room. Once Aelin was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to the kitchen.

“Oh my god.” Her aunt whisper shouted. “Is that the same Rowan who’s dick I walked in on you sucking.”

Aelin cringed at the reminder. She selectively tried to forget about that very awkward encounter that had traumatized all involved parties for several weeks.

“Yes.” Was all Aelin could manage to say.

“The same Rowan who’s heart you shattered on my front lawn while me and Aedion watched from the upstairs window.”

Aelin began tapping her foot. “Still mad at you for that.”

Her aunt wasn't deterred. “The same Rowan -”

Aelin put up a hand to stop her. “From now on how about we just assume it’s all the same Rowan. It’s probably wise considering I only know one.”

Althea let out a small laugh at that and shooed Aelin out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, her steps unhurried on the wearing carpet. Upon arrival at her room, she found Rowan hovering over her desk. He was looking at the pictures she had framed, none of which included him. There had been a time, when nearly every single one those pictures had been him and Aelin together. In the heat of the moment, she’d smashed them all on the ground, glass shattering on her wood floor. She’d immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. Over the months since, she’d gradually replaced the photos with new ones. Her and Lysandra smiling from pool chairs. Her and Aedion drunk and laughing at something Aelin could no longer remember. There was one on the far left of her and Chaol at junior prom that Aelin had forgotten to remove. She looked beautiful that night, with a stunning pale blue dress that shimmered in the moonlight outside the venue. Chaol had looked handsome too, but he wasn't who Aelin had really wanted to be there with.

It was that photo which Rowan was now staring at, his back to her. Leaning against the door frame, Aelin cleared her throat. Rowan whirled around, his face red as if he’d just been caught in the midst of something illegal.

“I was just - uh...” He ran a hand through his silver hair in a way familiar to Aelin.

“It’s fine.” She said, waving her hand dismissively.

They both took up positions on opposite sides of the bed, Aelin at the head and Rowan at the foot. He crossed and uncrossed his legs a few times before deciding at last to lie on his stomach, legs hanging off her bed.

“This is awkward.” He said, surprising Aelin enough that she fumbled with the sandwich in her hand before regaining control.

“Yep.” She nodded, and took a bite to refrain from having to answer.

He shook his head as if he wanted to say more and pulled out a notepad from his bag. “Let’s make rules and a contract.”

Finished chewing, Aelin halted to gape at him. “Are you seriously going to make me sign a legally binding contract or some shit. Rules make everything less fun.”

Rowan didn't meet her eye when he spoke again. “I’ve learned not to trust your word.”

A blush crept over Aelin’s cheeks and she ignored the sudden pain in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to say what, she didn't know, when Rowan interrupted.

“Besides, this isn't about fun. It’s a mutually benefitting deal.” His voice was dead serious but Aelin couldn't help but scoff.

“You’ve always been good at making fun things sound like physics homework.”

“And you’ve always been good at taking nothing seriously and thinking only of yourself.” He looked dead at her when he spoke, his features stone cold.

Aelin froze up and placed her half eaten sandwich back on the plate. “You’re being mean.”

A smirk crossed his lips, although she read no real amusement there. “My apologies, your highness.”

“Fine.” Aelin said, turning away from him to blink back a few barely there tears. “Let’s make rules then.”

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

Rowan was being a dick. He knew that. And yet somehow, every time he opened his mouth something mean and condescending came out. Clearly, he wasn't as over Aelin Galathynius as he’s convinced himself to be. Sitting on her bed after school, scrawling notes in a notebook and eating sandwiches brought back memories he’d honestly rather forget. Maybe it had been her Aunt’s reaction to seeing him, or the picture of Chaol on the dresser, but all Rowan knew was that somewhere between the threshold and here, he’d turned into a douchebag.

Currently, Aelin was rummaging through her desk drawer for a pen. She returned a moment later and handed it to him, careful to avoiding their hands touching.

“Fake Dating Contract”

Rowan scrawled a title messily at the top of the page, trying to ignore Aelin’s eyes on him.

“So what’s number one?” He asked out loud.

She tucked a few loose blond strands of hair behind her ear and bit her lip in the way she always did when she was thinking. Unable to watch the familiar motions anymore, Rowan turned back to his paper.

“Tell no-one.” He suggested dryly.

“I already told Lysandra,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ll have to tell Aedion as well.”

He had already been expecting that response. “That’s fine. I wanted to tell Lorcan and Fenrys anyway.”

She nodded in his peripheral vision. “But no one else. If this gets out I'll be the laughing stock of the school.”

“Of course princess. How dare I endanger your precious reputation? Need I remind you that this was your idea.” His tone was mocking, even as his brain scolded him for the cruel words.

Aelin blanched and shot him a glare. “Don't act like you don't need this either. I’m getting you what you always wanted.”

“How are you even planning on doing that anyway?”

She wouldn't lie to him about this. Would she?

Then it crossed his mind, he had no fucking clue what she would do. There had been a time when he thought he knew every thought that Aelin had. But then she’d broken his heart and altered his view on people forever. His distrust was both justified and entirely her fault.

“You won't like it.” Aelin said softly.

“I don't really care how you do it.” It was a lie. Despite his disdain for her, he didn't want her methods to be anything that put her in danger.

They went silent for a moment before Rowan spoke again. “What are the limits?”

Aelin arched an eyebrow at him. “Limits.”

“Yeah.” He sat up, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable to be lying down. “Like if we're going to make people believe it then we’re going to need some displays of public affection or whatever.”

Rowan didn't even need to look to know Aelin was delighting in how red his face had gone. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Are you trying to seduce me Rowan Whitethorn?”

He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his lips. “Stop that,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Aelin had always been the best at making him blush.

“We’ll kiss here and there, go to a few parties together, and hang out with each others friends a few times. It won't be too hard.” She shrugged as if they were just discussing the weather.

“Alright.” If she wasn't going to act like this was a big deal, than neither was he.

Half hour of back and forth conversation and a few snide comments later, the rules were complete. Rowan ripped out the looseleaf paper and held it up for Aelin to read.

Fake Dating Contract

1. Tell two people each ... ONLY

2. No making out for longer than 30 seconds.

3. No being rude or resentful to each other in public

4. Rowan must fake date Aelin for four months or until she says otherwise.

5. Aelin must get Rowan a football tryout by week two

6. Rowan and Aelin’s friend groups have to sit together at lunch

7. ANY RULES BROKEN RESULT IN THE SAID RULE BREAKER BEING BURNED ALIVE.

Rowan had added the second one, much to Aelin’s amusement. She had stolen the paper at the end to add the last one and sign her name at the bottom, handing it back to Rowan to do the same.

Once both their signatures were at the bottom, he pocketed the paper and stood to leave.

“You’re leaving?” Aelin blurted out, clearly uneasy.

“Why would I stay?” He meant it to come out rude, but it sounded more like a plea for a reason to.

Aelin hesitated for a moment before offering him a small smile and turning away. Sighing, Rowan quickly exited the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and out the door to avoid any awkward encounters. It was only when he got to his car that he realized just how badly he had wanted her to make him stay.

--------

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#rowaelin #rowaelin au #faking it #aelin galythinius #rowaelin angst #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass

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portals-to-a-new-world · 4 years ago

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Black Dresses and Back Alleys

(Butcher gif credit goes to @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth, and the edit is mine. Don’t ask why the gif is running so fast I couldn’t get it any slower. Open to suggestions lmao)

Who?: Billy Butcher x Reader

What?: Inspired by this post by @becs-bunker (thank you once again for letting me borrow the idea, love). Undercover in a night club to seduce a Vought scientist, with Butcher as your backup. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Does Butcher even need a language tag at this point? Smut. Portals? Writing smut? Why, it’s unheard of!!! Nah y’all know me this is smutty af. Specific warnings: Jealous!Butcher, Hints of Dom/sub, Public(ish) Smut, Fingering.

A/n: Hello everyone! Quick shout outs to @becs-bunker for the inspiration, and as always the illustrious @bakerstreethound for being a literal actual angel in human form, whom I thank every higher power for. I love ya. Also, shoutout to Sandmann on AO3 for helping out with some plot and general editing. You rock my dear. I wrote this with the dress in the picture above in mind, but feel free to read it as what ever sleeveless short dress you want :)

Going undercover in a night club to seduce some asshole scientist from Vought was not your ideal Saturday night. The mark was a new promotion in Vought and was more than happy to run his mouth once you got a few drinks in him. Bragging seemed to be his favorite thing to do, other than grinding like a 17-year-old boy at his first prom. It did provide a source of entertainment, though. Butcher had come as your backup, and never left your field of view for more than a minute. More than once you'd caught sight of Butcher scowling in your direction as the mark pulled you in close to whisper in your ear, or when his hand dropped a little too low while you were dancing. It finally came to a head, though, when the man led you over to a small VIP section and pulled you into his lap. You giggled and played along, trying to steer the conversation towards what he was working on for Vought. Turning all of your focus to getting him to tell you about the mysterious Compound V, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Butcher's voice cut through the noise.

"(Y/n)! Come ‘ere. I need to talk to ya." You jumped and turned to see Butcher stood just outside the ropes, glaring at the man, and his gaze sending ice through your veins. The idiot scientist didn't seem intimidated; however, he just scoffed and pulled you further into his lap.

"Sorry, mate," He said, making a terrible impression of Butcher's accent. "She's busy," You giggled and placed a hand on the man's chest, trying to salvage the situation, but you knew it was naught when you looked back over at Butcher. He was pulling what you called his 'death smirk,' and god only knew what he was planning. You recovered your composure and leaned in to speak into the mark's ear.

"I'll just be a minute." Your voice dripped with honey sweetness, but when you stood to walk away his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“And how do I know you will come back, sweetcheeks?” You cringed internally but offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to kiss him quickly. Seemingly satisfied, thank god he’s too drunk to press the matter, you turned and let your hips sway as you walked towards Butcher. As you approached, Butcher turned and started into the crowd.

Surely he's not pulling me out?

You hesitated at the ropes, causing him to turn back, and you could just barely hear his growl above the music.

"Now." You suppressed the outrage at his demand and turned back to shoot the scientist a wink. It took all of your focus not to storm off after Butcher, and you only grew angrier as he led you towards a back door. You didn't even flinch as he slammed the door open.

"What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? I nearly had him!" You exclaimed once the door shut. He didn't bother turning to look back at you as you moved to catch up with him.

"Yeah, nearly had his tongue down your throat, didn't ya?" He mumbled, clearly thinking you wouldn't hear. You reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Answer me. Why the fuck did you pull me out?" He glared at you for a moment before replying.

"He wasn't gonna tell us anything we didn't already know." He said.

Liar

You scoffed and darted around in front of him when he tried to walk away. "Don't bullshit me, Butcher. I've known you for too fucking long-"

"I didn't like the way he had his hands all over you, alright?!" You stopped in place, too stunned to believe it. Suddenly everything clicked into place.

"So the plan is to pick him up from this club on Saturday. He's there every weekend, so we know we'll definitely be able to grab him there. Then we bring him back here and-" Hughie cut MM off.

"Oh, don't tell me we're planning to kill him too," Hughie said, dragging a hand down his face. Butcher started to speak up, but you spoke first before he could give his little speech about whatever it takes.

"Why don't I go in?" Everyone turned to look at you. You shrugged and moved forward. "You said it's a night club, right? I'll go in undercover and get it out of him my way,"

"You mean fuck it out of him." Butcher scoffed, and you gave him a side-eye before continuing.

"It's easier that way too, he'll be too drunk to remember talking, and Vought won't be looking for the 6 stooges who kidnapped their new scientist."

"No." Butcher spat out. You turned to look at him in confusion. He avoided your gaze and looked back up at MM. "You, me, and Frenchie will wait for him and-"

"Butcher, if she's willing to go then-"

"I said no. It's too risky."

"And since when do you give a fuck?" You demanded. He finally turned to look at you, and you raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"You want to get yourself killed, fine. But I'm coming with you so I can wave at 'cha when Vought swoops in and drags you away."

Billy Butcher was jealous. So many thoughts rushed through your mind at once, and you shook your head to clear them before replying.

"And what gives you the right to pull me out when the mark gets a little handsy?" You demanded. The glare he sent you had you backing away until you were trapped between him and the wall.

"I protect what's mine." His voice was low and held a dark edge that sent chills down your spine.

"You don't own me, Butcher." The words had barely left your lips before he was slamming you back against the wall.

"No?" He asked, his face barely an inch from your own. You inhaled sharply as his hand yanked your skirt up, and he stroked two long fingers along your already dampening core. Another gasp escaped you as he leaned down to suck at your neck. "This cunt isn't mine? Sure did seem like it was the other night." You moaned as he pulled the fabric aside, circling your clit for a few moments. "That's a right shame." He growled against your ear, a finger just barely slipping inside you before he was suddenly gone, taking a step back to smirk as you whined and fell back against the wall.

"You don't get to pull this shit right now." You said, adjusting your skirt. "If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have fucking said so when you showed up at my door, begging me to help you and the boys. I told you then, no attachments. You fucked me over once already that first go around." Suddenly he was right back in front of you, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Better late than never, eh?" He growled, moving to kiss you, but he stopped right before your lips touched, waiting for you to make the final move. And, oh, how you wanted to. You'd fallen for him practically the moment you'd met him, and he'd known it. You didn't find out until too late that he could never have any affection for you. By then, he'd been fucking Susan behind your back, and you finally realized precisely the type of person he was. You'd convinced yourself after the team disbanded that you were over it, over him. Hell, even when he showed up at your door, you still almost kicked him out. And yet here you both were, after years of denial, scant inches apart, with him admitting he was jealous. Butcher pulled back slightly and tilted his head as he glared at you. "Cmon. Just admit it. Say you're mine." You glared back at him, anger and lust still pulsing through your veins. Finally, you groaned in frustration and reached up to pull him back in.

"Fuck you." You said and slammed into his lips in a harsh kiss. He matched your pace, pressing his body against you. You could feel him growing harder as you met again and again in rough and bruising kisses. A growl sounded deep in his chest as you tugged sharply on his hair. He pinned your wrists over your head with one hand before the other once again found its way beneath your skirt. You gasped and squirmed as he pulled the dress up before yanking your lacy thong down your legs. "Butcher-" He cut you off once again by slamming two fingers deep inside you, barely giving you any time to adjust before he was pumping them in and out at a brutal pace. You tugged against his hold on your wrists, trying to muffle the sounds escaping you, but he held firm and just moved to bite and suck at your neck, ignoring your pleas.

"How about I fuck you right here in this alleyway?" He growled in your ear. You whined as his thumb pressed hard against your clit. "Let the whole fucking world hear you moan for me," He continued his onslaught, driving you closer and closer to climax. Right as you were on the edge, he pulled away, leaving only his hand pinning your wrists. You bit your lip to stop from crying out and tried to focus back in. After a moment or two, you began to laugh breathlessly. "What the fuck's so funny?" He demanded.

"You say you own me, but who's the one begging to fuck me in an alleyway cause they got a little jealous when someone else played with their toy?" You said, relishing in the way his eyes flashed. Your laughter was stopped dead, though, as he leaned back in to resume sucking at your neck. You gasped as his hand slid into the top of your dress, palming your breast roughly.

"We need each other, luv." He pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers and moved to give other the same attention as you continued to squirm. He chuckled as you stepped around awkwardly, your movements hampered by your thong still caught around your knees. "Having problems there?" You carefully dropped your head back against the wall and groaned.

"For fucks sake Butcher if you're gonna do something get on with it." You huffed. He pulled back to look at you, smug grin out in full force.

"Why? If you're not desperate for me, you can just run inside to your little twat and let him satisfy you. Ey?" He pulled your breasts free from your dress as he spoke, and you didn't have time to think before his lips were closing around a hardening peak. You moaned and arched your back into him, and he palmed and kneaded the other before switching sides.

"Butcher for the love of all that is holy-" He pulled off you, leaving his hand in place as he spoke.

"You want me to fuck you?" He smirked.

"Either that or let me go find someone who will," You yelped as he groped you hard. "FuCk! Please! I-" You screwed your eyes shut. "I need you." He finally released your wrists and slammed back into your lips. You reached down to step out of your thong, intending to just throw it somewhere, but he grabbed it from your hand and stuck it in his coat. Too far gone to care, you pulled him back in, fumbling with his pants' fastenings. Finally, you pulled his throbbing cock free, and he groaned as you gave him a few strokes. "Whose cock is this, Butch?" You said mockingly. He glared at you and pulled your hand off before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a foil packet. He tore it open and rolled the condom on quickly before grabbing your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively and hissed as he brushed against you.

"Whose cunt am I about to destroy?" He snarked as he moved to where the wall was taking most of your weight, freeing his hand to guide himself into you. You whined and clung to his shoulders as he filled and stretched you inch by delicious inch. Before he could move, the sound of the door slamming open had you scrambling in panic. Butcher only pushed further into you, moving in close enough to cover your exposed body with his coat as a whimper escaped you.

"(Y/fake/n)?" It was the scientist, and Butcher let out a huff at the sound of his voice. You willed the man to just go away, but his voice only drew nearer. "Hey, Brit! You scare my pussy away?"

Ah shit

Butcher made a noise akin to an animalistic growl and pulled his hips back, so only the tip remained inside you. He locked eyes with you, and you shook your head at him, but it was no use as he called over his shoulder.

"Sorry, mate," Butcher said. He slammed his hips back forward, drawing a desperate gasp from your lips. "She's busy." Your eyes slammed shut in mortification, and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Butcher smirked against your neck as his plan worked, the man cussing him out but finally leaving. As you heard the door open and close, you considered smacking the smug bastard. Right as you opened your mouth to speak though Butcher repeated his action, drawing another cry from you.

"B-butcher-" You whimpered, and he tsked before slamming into you three more times, making you claw at his shoulders and cry out.

"Nowhere near loud enough, love." He dropped his head to your neck, biting and sucking marks as he gripped your ass tighter and pounded you into the wall. "I want to hear you scream." Your fingers continued to dig into his shoulders as each thrust drove you higher and higher. "Fuck." He swore and began to pick up his pace. You gasped and whimpered incoherent syllables mixed with pleading his name as a fire started to form in your core.

He may be a madman, but every move of his hips, every touch of his fingers, and kiss from his lips seemed to be perfectly thought out to drive you to the brink of insanity. Someone could have walked right up to the two of you, and you doubt you would have cared, too consumed with the pleasure zapping through every cell of your body like lightning. Only he had this effect on you. Only he could convince you to give in to him with barely any effort at all. Yes, Billy Butcher was crazy, but not a single part of you cared as the spark in your core ignited, and you muffled your scream in his shoulder. Butcher groaned as you clenched around him, and doubled his efforts, panting hard as you begged him to let you have a moment to recover. It was pointless though, already the coil was beginning to tighten again, and this time when you came, your whole body shook, and it took all of his strength to keep you both from falling as you squeezed his own orgasm from him. He quickly slid out of you and stood you on your feet as you both gasped for air, the aftershocks jolting you into whimpering. You eventually managed to regain your brain function, quickly fixing your dress and hair before holding your hand out towards Butcher. "What?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes and huffed.

"You know what. Give me my panties." You said indignantly. He tilted his head and grinned at you. "Ugh. Perv." His grin turned predatory as he turned to walk towards his car, reaching in his jacket to pull them out and dangle them off a finger.

"You're not gonna need them tonight, luv."

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Tags (as always if you’d like to be removed or if I forgot you feel free to yell at me. If you’d like to be added, click here):

@bakerstreethound @bookscoffeeandracoons @becs-bunker @lt-trick @billybutchersbabe @emily-strange @below-average-fangirl @brideofedoras @nora-hewlett @im-like-reallythirsty @fairytale07 @waaaaaaitwhat @rayray1463 @mblaqgi

#billy butcher x reader #smut #language #honestly i just need to dip this blog in holy water at this point

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theladyofdeath · 5 years ago

Text

Alone in the Ashes {20}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, drugs, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click > Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: More fluff? “But, Tara, that’s so out of character for you.” “But, Tara, what ever happened with Tamlin?” “TARA WHY IS EVERYTHING GOING SO WELL” solid questions......

You are the first dream, the only dream I ever was unable to stop myself from dreaming. You are the first dream of my soul, and from that dream I hope will come all other dreams, a lifetime’s worth. - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

“Show me!” Feyre called, yelling behind the velvet curtain. Mor was trying on bridesmaid dress after bridesmaid dress, giving Feyre her own personal runway show.

Which she deserved. She was the bride-to-be, after all.

“Alright, okay,” Mor muttered from inside of the dressing room. “This one has a low back and a high neckline. And, I must say, my ass looks fantastic.”

Feyre laughed but that laughter faded once Mor came out, because she was right - she looked stunning. It hugged her body without being too risque and the deep, lavender color suited her perfectly.

“I love that,” Feyre said, eyes wide. “It’s perfect. Even the color. That’s our color. That’s your dress. You’re getting that.”

“Am I?” Mor asked.

“Yes, and if you don’t, I’m kicking you out of the bridal party.”

Mor snorted. “Fine. I accept. Now, I’m making you try on dresses.”

“My sisters should be here,” Feyre said, just as she had every other time Mor had suggested otherwise.

“You don’t have to get one today,” Mor said. “Please? Just try on a few then we can go get lunch.”

“Fine,” Feyre groaned, hopping up from the couch she was sitting on.

The owner of the boutique came over and helped Feyre into a room before Mor, now changed into her shorts and tank top, went crazy, bringing her a handful of dresses.

“Take your time,” Mor called, closing the curtain behind her. “I’ll be sitting right out here, let me know if you need help.”

Feyre sighed, taking in the line up of dresses before her. At first, she slipped on a ballgown, but the moment she stepped out of the dressing room and looked into the mirror, she wanted to yank it off her body and burn it. Too puffy, too frilly. She felt like she was going to prom - been there, done that. She went through two more that even Mor had cringed at before setting her eyes on a slim fit, beaded gown with an open back and a low, sweetheart neckline. It had thin straps and a long, beautiful lace train.

Feyre slipped it on.

She stepped out of her dressing room and looked into the mirror.

Mor gasped, eyes lined with tears.

“Feyre,” she breathed.

“I know,” Feyre said, shaking her head. “Damn you, Mor! I was supposed to wait for my sisters!”

They both broke into a fit of laughter as Feyre admired the dress in the mirror. It was perfect. It was flawless. There was nothing about it that Feyre didn’t like.

Rhysand wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her.

She was barely able to keep her hands off of herself.

It was just over her budget; but, she didn’t really care. She wouldn’t be telling Rhysand, who she scolded just the night before about ordering too many flowers - but, she didn’t really care. She would only ever have one wedding dress.

“How long will it take for this dress to come in if I ordered it today?” Feyre asked.

The owner went to a little computer where she typed away for a minute before saying, “Six months.”

All the breath left Feyre’s body.

But Mor wasn’t taking that shit.

“There isn’t any way it can get in sooner?” Mor asked. “Can she buy the one she has on and have it fitted? She’s getting married in October and that dress needs to be on her body when the day comes.”

The owner looked back and forth between Mor and Feyre.

Her lips thinned. “I will see what I can do.”

She went back to work on her computer as Mor snapped an endless string of pictures on her phone of Feyre in her dress, which she promised to send to Elain.

Five minutes later, Elain had sent a reply: G E T I T N O W

Amren’s replying text was similar: If she doesn’t get that dress I will break in after hours and steal it for her.

If Elain approved, it was a must.

If Amren was talking about breaking the law, it wasn’t unusual, but it was still a must.

The owner was still trying to figure out a way to get it in sooner, now speaking to someone on the phone in hushed tones.

Feyre looked in the mirror, again. It was beautiful. Stunning. She could imagine it, paired with a simple pair of heels and a long, simple veil. She could picture Rhysand’s face as she walked toward him in the dress. He would watch her with wide, teary eyes, and a small smile, full of utter adoration.

It was the dress.

Half an hour had passed before the owner rejoined them. The elderly woman sighed, as if all of her energy had been sucked away. “I can get it here in two months-”

Feyre heard nothing else because Mor had jumped up, off the couch, and was running to Feyre with her arms wide open. Laughing, Feyre let Mor embrace her, all while picturing her wedding day.

What a perfect day it would be.

~~~~~

Cassian had gone for a jog along the Sidra, listening to his hype playlist through his earbuds. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon. The sun was bright, high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen. The flowing waters of the Sidra were sparkling beside him.

Even Bryaxis had a little pep in his step, when usually he was trailing behind Cassian and whining after a mile.

They stopped near a little park where Cassian plopped down in the grass, Bryaxis beside him. After taking a drink from his water bottle, he squirted some into Bryaxis’ mouth, too, when his phone went off.

Nesta’s name popped up on his screen.

All of these movies you’re making me watch from the 80s are weird as fuck.

Cassian smiled at his screen before typing back, Which one are you watching now?

It was no secret that Cassian loved movies, so when Nesta asked for recommendations, he had given her a longass list and a giant stack from his personal collection. She had been living with Elain for about two weeks now, and was loving her sister’s company. Cassian hadn’t seen her much, though. He helped her move in, as he promised he would, but he was aware she needed space for now, and he was okay giving her that.

Didn’t keep them from having little text conversations nearly every day, though.

The Lost Boys, she sent back, with a little vampire emoji.

What?? Cassian texted. It’s a classic!

Oh, please, she replied. It’s obvious why you’re such a fan.

Bryaxis had climbed onto his owner’s lap and Cassian was scratching his head, between his ears, when he sent, And why is that?

It took her a minute to reply in which Cassian used to stretch out his long, sweaty legs.

Then the reply came: Bc you’re basically Michael

Cassian cocked his head to the side, even though she wasn’t around to see it. Untrue.

He could imagine her rolling her eyes. Especially when he got her text back. Long hair, motorcycle, thinks he’s hot as shit? Yeah, you’re Michael.

Cassian looked down at Bryaxis. “Nesta’s being mean, Ax.”

Bryaxis’s tail went wild at the mention of her name.

Cassian’s only reply was, I am hot as shit.

Nesta replied with the eye-rolling emoji.

Then, she sent, I’m almost done with the stack you gave me, and as weird as they may be, I wouldn’t mind if you brought me some more?

Before Cassian could reply, Nesta followed the text with, Maybe tomorrow? If you’re not busy after work.

Cassian looked back down to Bryaxis as he grinned. He didn’t know why he was grinning, felt ridiculous at grinning to himself and his dog in the middle of a crowded park, but he couldn’t stop that stupid little grin.

Sure. I’ll be over around 6?

Six gave him enough time to run home, shower, and grab another stack of DVDs she would surely be calling weird as fuck in no time.

Cassian finished stretching, did thirty sit-ups, and was back on his feet, Bryaxis’s leash in hand when Nesta replied: Perfect.

~~~~~

Elain looked at her phone, where she had set a timer.

It had only been fifteen seconds.

The bathroom was small, but she paced back and forth relentlessly. She had chugged half a gallon of water, Nesta watching her curiously as she did so, before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

They had been watching some vampire movie from the 80s. Not exactly Elain’s thing. She was glad for any excuse that politely removed her from the room.

Even if said excuse was anxiety ridden.

Another glance at her phone.

Thirty seconds.

Her pacing continued, her fingers drumming wildly against her thighs.

It wouldn’t be the worst thing, right? I mean...Azriel would be great, of course, but it certainly wasn’t ideal. They had only been dating a few months, only began sleeping with each other the month before.

If it was true, it must have happened that first night, or one of the nights soon after.

It was too soon.

Elain’s anxiety shot through the roof.

She looked at her phone.

Forty-five seconds.

Two minutes felt like a lifetime when everything was on the line.

She was only a week late, but even when she was barely eating, her period had always remained normal - perfectly spaced out, returning like clockwork the third week of every month.

Her eyes met her phone.

One minute down.

One minute to go.

“It’s okay,” she breathed, shaking out her hands, as if that would somehow make the situation better. “It’s alright. Breathe.”

By the Cauldron, what if it was positive?

Would it really be okay?

Azriel would freak out, without a doubt.

He already had Mila. She couldn’t add more onto his plate.

She looked at her phone.

One minute, twenty seconds.

But he was so good with Mila. He would be an amazing father. So gentle and kind, so loving and passionate.

But would he want to have kids with Elain?

She imagined he hadn’t even thought about such a thing yet. Elain hadn’t even thought about it, not until she went eight days over her start day without her period.

For the Mother’s sake, they hadn’t even used the word love with one another yet.

Phone.

One minute, forty-seconds.

Elain couldn’t breathe. She slumped down to the floor, on top of the gray, fluffy rug, and closed her eyes.

In, out.

Don’t panic.

Panic doesn’t help.

But she couldn’t help it. Her eyes began to water, the tears trickling down her pale cheeks.

She suddenly had a feeling that everything was about to change. She was a woman. She knew her body. Either it had gone into shock with all the lifestyle changes she had made in the recent weeks, or this was all real.

Her timer went off, and her eyes shot open.

She took her phone off the counter and silenced the timer.

Then, with a shaky hand, she pulled the test off the counter.

Pregnant.

She read it twice, ten times, twenty times, that single word the only word she could think of.

She was pregnant.

Pregnant.

With child.

With Azriel’s child.

A fist pounded on the door, scaring Elain shitless. She swore, quietly, scrambling up from the floor.

“Hey, it’s Az. Nesta said you came upstairs. I assume you’re in there, since….well, you’re not anywhere else up here. Hope you don’t mind me coming by early. I dropped Mila off with Mor and Feyre to look for a flower girl dress. I was told I’m not allowed to see it before the wedding day, so...”

Elain took a deep breath, hoping her voice remained steady when she said, “Hey! Oh, I’m just...fixing my contacts.”

A pause. “Okay. I’ll go downstairs and wait with Nesta. I’ll catch the end of The Lost Boys.”

“Great,” Elain said, and her voice broke.

Azriel didn’t move from the other side of the door. She could see the shadows from his feet. “You okay? You sound upset.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she promised him, although she obviously wasn’t. “Just a little emotional today.”

“Alright,” Azriel said, uncertainly. “Can I open the door?”

“I’m naked,” she blurted.

“While putting in contacts?” Azriel said, huffing a laugh. “Not that it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

The doorknob turned, and Elain cursed herself for not locking the door.

She quickly hid the test stick behind her back as he came in.

He took one look at her red cheeks, her blurry eyes, and frowned. “Hey…”

She was frozen in place as he stepped toward her, as he took her face into his hands and wiped away her tears. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, and Azriel pulled her into his arms.

His body stilled.

He was taller than her by quite a bit, no doubt looking down as she planted her face into his chest.

Down at Elain’s hands, behind her back, gripping the test so hard that her knuckles were white.

Azriel reached around her and took it from her hands. He stepped back, looking down at it.

Pregnant.

He took a step back, studied it as if he wasn’t seeing it correctly.

His face was unreadable.

Elain’s hands flew over her mouth as she broke into a sob.

Azriel’s gaze jerked up, his eyes widened as she cried. “Hey, hey, no..”

He set the test down on the counter and pulled Elain into his arms. He held her tightly against him as she wept.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, voice muffled against his shirt.

“About what?” he whispered. “You don’t have to apologize, El. Okay? Don’t apologize.”

She nodded, and when she looked up at him, his hazel eyes shone. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

He hesitated, his hands still rubbing her back. “I’m not….I’m in shock, I guess. But, I’m not….mad, Elain, I think you think I’m mad.”

She took a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “I’m in shock, too.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Well, that’s good.”

Elain laughed, softly. “How is that good?”

“Pretty sure shock is normal in these situations,” he said, quietly.

All the tension left Elain’s shoulders. “I’m scared.”

“About what?” he asked, voice low.

“All of it,” she said. “Carrying a child, birthing a child, and everything that comes after that. And you...Azriel…” Her words trailed off, but Azriel didn’t say anything. He watched her and waited, patiently. “You would be an amazing dad, Az, but I don’t want to trap you.”

His brows furrowed as he brushed her newly fallen tears away. “Is that what you think? That I would stay with you because you’re pregnant? Or, that I would even want to leave you in the first place?”

Elain looked down. She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what she thought, wasn’t sure how to sort her thoughts.

Azriel lifted her chin back up with his fingers. “Do you want to have this baby?”

It was the same question that Elain had stayed up the night before asking herself, over and over again. If it’s positive, do you want to keep it? Elain laid her palms flat against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. Although afraid, she felt completely confident when she answered, “Yes.”

Azriel smiled, tentatively, and nodded. “Then I’m going to be here, okay? You’re not trapping me, Elain. You couldn’t trap me if you tried. I know we’ve been together for a few months, and we’re still in that honeymoon stage, and I won’t pretend that I know what the future holds....But I do know that I love you.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do this, and it’s going to be okay, okay?”

Elain laid her palm against his cheek, brushing away the tear he had that fell. “You love me?”

She knew Azriel, knew he didn’t say things unless they were true. And, after talking with Mor, she knew Azriel had never said that word to another woman.

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I do. But, you don’t have to-”

“I love you, too,” she breathed, interrupting his modesty.

And it was true.

Yes, she had loved Graysen, but it was a false love. She loved the idea of Graysen, loved the life they had built, but it wasn’t true, Graysen had proven that in the end.

But with Azriel…

Azriel was truth, kindness, gentleness, passion, genuity, love. He was everything she needed for herself, all wrapped up into one, perfectly imperfect man.

And she loved that about him.

She loved him.

He smiled down at her, and it was one of those smiles that she had only seen a handful of times from him. His teeth showed, his eyes went bright, his plump lips curved upward. That smile...it was an image that Elain kept in her memory for her darkest of days.

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

tag List (to be tagged, comment or send me an ask!)

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Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au #feysand #elriel #nessian #tacmc AITA #the end is coming

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houseof-harry · 5 years ago

Note

Heyy if you’re still taking requests can you do one with grayson based off of the prom episode from friends? It’s basically like gray getting ready to be her surprise date to prom because he thought her date bailed but at the last minute he showed up and she left w him. she never knew and only finally found out through watching the old home videos together & they finally get together. sorryyy this was so long if u want u can watch a clip of that eps on youtube. thank you and love your writings!!

I changed this up a tiny bit but I hope you enjoy!

A week before prom your boyfriend found it appropriate to break up with you because he wanted someone else. You had coordinated your dress with his tux, you were supposed to go with his friends, spend the night at their after prom. You had no idea what to do.

Ethan, one of your good friends, had an amazing idea. You see, Grayson had been pining over you since you were all kids. You had grown up with them because your parents were friends. You ran in different crowds at school, though. So Grayson never really felt like he had the opportunity to ask you out, too scared you wouldn’t want to date him because you and your friends really only dated the guys you were friends with (messy, but not surprising).

This was his chance, though. You had told Ethan it would be humiliating to show up alone. Especially when your ex had told you he was bringing the other girl he was into.

However, Ethan is shit at planning, and forgot to tell Grayson of this idea until the morning of prom. They were hopeful, though. Grayson even managed to go out and get a new tie to match the color of your dress. Ethan had convinced you to come to their pre prom, and that you could hang out with them and that their friends were super cool with it.

So that’s what you did. And when you got there, everyone was so nice which you were grateful for because both Ethan and Grayson were out of sight, leaving you to manage yourself around their friends group. You had even found one of their friends who had also recently been dumped and was there alone. It was nice to talk to someone who was in a similar situation to you, and you both decided that you could be each other’s dates because fuck men. You didn’t need them, right?

“E! Guess what!” You call when you finally see both of the twins exiting the house, Ethan with a camera in order to catch what he thought would be the beginning of the rest of Grayson’s life. They were both convinced you were soulmates.

“What?” He asks, the smile evident in his voice even though you couldn’t see it due to the camera blocking his face.

“Kayla and I are going together now! We decided we don’t need men to enjoy our last prom ever, if anything they’d probably ruin the fun.” You both giggle, not noticing the twins immediately stopping.

It was nice to see you smiling and laughing even though it was only this morning you were still crying about your ex. Grayson didn’t want to ruin that, he couldn’t. Your happiness was more important than anything.

Ethan turned the camera off, his shoulders slumping. He grabbed Grayson by the back of his neck, patting him. “One day.”

***

4 years later

You were roaming around your backyard, friends and family surrounding you as you celebrated your graduation from college. You were talking with your aunt when you noticed the twins walk past your gate, approaching the table with the food immediately. You excused yourself from your conversation, walking over to them.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in,” you tease, the smile on your face making the words even lighter.

You weren’t sure they were even gonna come when you sent them the invite via facebook. They’d become YouTube stars, moved to LA after high school, and seemed to never look back. You saw them no more than twice a year when you both happened to be back in your hometown, and it would be at family dinners so everything remained pretty tame.

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, y/n. This is big, we’re proud,” Ethan responds, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. He swayed you side to side, the happiness of being together again overwhelming the both of you. It was easy to forget how much you missed them until you got to hang out with them again.

When you pulled away, Grayson was right there, the smile on his face so familiar it made you shiver. There were a lot of things that reminded you of home, but that smile always brought about the upmost comfort.

The thing is, you had liked Grayson for just as long as he liked you. But you knew he was way too cool to pursue, and that only heightened once he went to LA. They didn’t tell you much about their dating lives when you would text and call, but you knew they weren’t virgins by any means. You just didn’t want to know what types of girls he was going after out there, because they would probably make you pale in comparison.

The feeling of his hug pulls you from your thoughts. All of a sudden you were consumed by all things Grayson and everything felt right. The anxiety you felt about this day left you, and you were finally able to just relax. No worries about post grad situations, jobs, grad school, none of it. You just stood there and soaked it in until you knew you had been hanging onto him too long before pulling back. He only let you back away a little, though, his hands finding their place on your elbows. You let him keep you close, your gaze stuck on his.

“Hey,” he breathes out, almost like he couldn’t believe you were truly in front of him, even after all those years.

Ethan had long since become entranced in the buffet again, leaving you and Grayson to chat. “Hi.”

“How are you, how is everything? I mean you graduated so you have to be doing alright. I’m so proud, by the way, this is a really big deal. I got you something,” he rambles, reaching into his back pocket.

“Gray, I don’t need anything from you guys, you didn’t have to.” Your cheeks heat up as he pulls out an envelope, handling it to you.

“It’s time sensitive, so you gotta open it before like 8 tonight,” he chuckles, your hands bringing the envelope to your chest.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure it’s the first one I open.”

The two of you stand there smiling at each other for a moment, appreciating that you’re really back together. Grayson felt like he did all of his childhood; happy, excited, and nervous. Really nervous. He didn’t want to be the first one to speak again because he knew he wouldn’t be able to shut up again.

Before you could decide to say anything either, someone is calling your name. You turn your head to see some of your other family had just arrived. You turn back to Grayson, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Sorry I gotta-”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Go soak up all the congratulations, you’ve earned it all.” He pats your shoulders before going to find Ethan.

The rest of the day goes as planned, everyone coming and going to say their congrats. You didn’t get to spend any more time with the twins, but they found themselves catching up with some other high school friends who had been able to come.

That night, you took a shower but reminded yourself of what Grayson told you earlier. When you got out, it was 7:30. You quickly got dressed in casual clothes, going downstairs to open the card from them.

Hey y/n,

Congrats! We’re both so proud of everything you’ve accomplished these past four years and are so excited to see where you go in the next four and beyond. We decided instead of a conventional gift, we wanted to do something a bit more personal. Come to ours at 8:30.

Love,

Grayson and Ethan,

p.s. don’t call or text asking for hints, we refuse to break

You giggle at the note at the end. You felt butterflies immediately erupt in your stomach, recognizing the handwriting as Grayson’s. You had no idea what they had in store for you, but you couldn’t wait.

By the time 8:30 rolled around, you were itching to know what was up. You were pulling down their long driveway, trying to collect yourself so you wouldn’t seem too on edge. Grayson was always really good at reading you, so you knew your efforts were fruitless but you wanted to try anyways.

Once you parked and texted them that you were there, you got out and walked to the door. Before you had even reached the welcome mat, the door swung open and Grayson with his signature smile stood there, the excitement evident in his eyes.

“Hey y/n.”

“Hey.” You have a grin to match his, his happiness fueling yours. It was impossible to be sad when he was so happy.

“Let me show you your present.” He holds his hand out to you, and you graciously accept despite the fact he will definitely be able to tell your palms were a bit clammy. You hoped he’d brush it off as the summer heat, but you both new the nerves were eating away at you slowly.

He leads you out to their backyard, where there were three chairs set up in front of what looked like a huge movie screen.

“Gray, what’s-”

“We put together a video for you. Or us, I guess. It’s just all our old stupid videos we made from growing up edited together into the story of Grayson, Ethan, and y/n.”

You stopped walking, tears immediately pricking the corners of your eyes. No one had gotten you such a personal gift. I mean, of course you appreciated all the money especially as a college grad, but this was something that would be able to last forever.

Ethan walked out past you, a big bowl of popcorn in his hands. “Ready?” He asks casually, but the grin of his face says he has other intentions. He seems more excited for this than you and Grayson.

“Yeah,” you croak out, still emotional but now excited to see what they had whipped up. You all sit in your seats, excitement radiating from them and all different emotions coming from you. This definitely wasn’t what you were expecting.

Once they start the video, you’re quickly enthralled in remembering your past, the memories from growing up with them flooding in with every new video they included. All the way from your first time trick or treating together, to the skits you would put together when your families would have dinner parties, to the days on the beach when you went away for the weekend with them. It made you feel light inside, like there was nothing to worry about again.

All of a sudden there’s a clip the starts with Grayson’s feet in his dress shoes, and it soon pans out to capture his entire outfit. The outfit he wore to your senior prom.

“Excited?” Ethan asks from behind the camera as Grayson adjusts his tie and smooths his suit.

“Terrified,” he mumbles back, his hands visibly shaking.

“Dude, she just got dumped and you get to be the hero who swoops in, saves prom, and promises to love her forever,” Ethan jokes, but there’s not even a hint of a smile from Grayson.

“I can’t come off that strong, she has no idea I love her. I just gotta act as normal as possible.” The nerves are clear in his voice as he continues to speak, checking his hair in the mirror.

“Dude, I saw her walk down the driveway like ten minutes ago, we gotta go. Got the flower thing?” Ethan asks.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Grayson says, walking out of the house in front of Ethan and the camera.

“E! Guess what?” The camera moves to show you and Kayla, smiling and giggling together.

“What?” His voice booms from right behind the microphone.

“Kayla and I are going together now! We decided we don’t need men to enjoy our last prom ever, if anything they’d probably ruin the fun.” The camera catches the two of you laughing together, almost totally ignoring the boys.

The next clip begins, but you have long stopped paying attention. Grayson loved you in high school? He was going to ask you to prom because of your shit ex trying to ruin it for you? And he never told you this whole time?

The last few videos finish and the screen goes black.

“So?” Ethan asks as soon as it’s over, his head turning to you. You sat there, mouth open, eyes on the blank screen unable to speak. “That bad, huh?”

“Huh?’ You snap out of it, looking at him. “No, it was good. Really good. Thank you, guys. This really meant a lot. It was nice to remember all the fun we had here growing up.” Your words and smile are genuine, but Grayson can tell there’s something else going on.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Nothing, just got me emotional I think,” you mumble, looking at your lap in hopes of avoiding them asking any further questions.

“Why not just all good ones?”

Oh because you loved me and I loved you and we didn’t tell each other and now we live such different lives in such different worlds and no guy has ever compared to you but if it was impossible in high school, it’s definitely impossible now, you think to yourself.

“Just miss being that carefree sometimes, I guess,” you shrug, deciding lying is most definitely the safer bet.

“Alright, she’s not gonna tell us the truth, so let’s at least go inside to avoid the mosquitos,” Ethan quips, standing and grabbing the popcorn bowl. You go to follow him, but Grayson grabs your arm. You look down at him and can see the concern in his eyes. You sit again while Ethan leaves you two out there alone.

“What is it actually?” He asks, his gaze heavy as it holds yours captive, wanting to genuinely hear and see what you have to say.

“You were gonna ask me to prom?” You whisper, like it’s some big secret. It also feels stupid asking him that seeing as prom is just not important anymore, but this was just easier to ask than the real question you wanted an answer to.

“Of course. Your ex was an ass for what he did, would never let you go alone after that. You knew I never liked him in the first place. But, you and Kayla had a really good time together, so it all worked out in the end,” his words are meaningful, but his smile isn’t meeting his eyes. It’s clear he’s holding back.

“But you were gonna ask me because you loved me?” You raise your brow.

He coughs, turning his head to the side to avoid the eye contact he had initiated. “Uh, yeah.”

“Like really loved me or just thought I was cute because we were in high school?”

“Definitely really loved you.” He nods, rubbing his bicep. He was nervous again, unsure of how to go about this. He thought you’d think it was funny that he loved you, not question him. He’s scared you’ll ask how he feels now, and he doesn’t want to say anything that will scare you off.

“Huh,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “I loved you, too.” His eyes widen at this. He whips his head to look at you, shock written all over his face. He expected a lot of things to come from your mouth, but not that. Definitely not that.

“You fucking what?” Is the only response he can think go saying. He went through years of loving you from afar only to find out now he could have been doing it upfront this whole time.

You laugh, turning to look at him again. “Thought it was obvious. That’s why I never did anything, thought you knew and didn’t feel the same way.”

Grayson literally sputters, at a complete loss for words. “Is this a joke?”

“Why would I be joking?” You ask genuinely. Your brows pulled together in confusion, not understanding what was so shocking about it all.

“Because it has to be a joke that I could have been loving you all these years to your face instead of hiding it but I didn't have to.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he holds his face in frustration.

You sit in silence for a moment, his words sinking in. You couldn’t tell what he meant by that, was he still in love with you?

“It’s okay Gray. We were young and stuff.” You shrug, hoping to make him feel better. I mean obviously you still were hopelessly in love with him, but he didn’t have to know it.

He laughs almost cynically, turning to look at you. “You don’t see it, do you?” He seems almost defeated while he speaks.

“See what?”

“I’m still in love with you. Like if we had a prom right now and you got ditched again I’d go rent a whole tux and take you. I’d literally do anything for you, and would have done anything the past two decades we’ve known each other. I love you so much, everything about you. When we moved away and you went to college, it took me literally like three months to start enjoying life again without telling you about everything because you deserved the space to grow. I couldn’t be selfish and take away your college experience from you just because I loved you. But seeing you today has just, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying,” he sighs, catching his breath. He’s rambled in front of you from nerves many times, but this was a whole other level. Fear slowly started to sink into every bone of his body as he realized what he had admitted to you.

You sat there in complete shock, not expecting him to have said any of that. Yet, he had put it perfectly. You had always kept your feelings to yourself so as to never hold him back. Also to avoid complete rejection from the most important person in your life, but also because he deserved to live without the burden of your love.

“Gray, hey, look at me,” you mumble, reaching out to put your arm on his forearm. He lifts his head, his eyes timidly meeting yours but his muscles relaxing as soon as he felt your skin on his.

“We can act like I didn’t say all of that stuff if it’ll mean we get to keep being friends.” The anxiety drips from every single word that comes from his mouth.

“Why would we do that?” You stand, walking over to stand i front of him. His gaze follows you while he leans back in his chair. You grab both his hands and encourage him to stand with you. When he does, your bodies are close, the heat radiating off one another.

“Because I’d rather be friends with you and act like I don’t love you than not be in your life at all.” His voice was so vulnerable and you don’t think you've ever heard him so shy in his life. He usually oozed confidence, never faltering. Now, all he seemed to be doing is question every word he’s saying.

“But what if we could be more than friends?” You ask, biting your lip and looking at him.

His face reflects his surprise as he sucks in a quick breath. Before he has the chance to ramble again, you lean in to leave a light kiss against his lips. It’s quick and Grayson almost wonders if he’s dreaming. It’s the moment he’s thought about since he was 10, and it was over before he could truly enjoy it.

He scans your face, making sure he doesn’t see any regret forming before he grabs your hips and pulls you in for a real kiss. His lips are slow and sensual on yours, cherishing every moment you let him continue to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you.

All of a sudden you hear someone screaming from the window above you guys. You both pull away, looking up to see Ethan beaming down at you both. “And to think it only took me, like, 15 years to get this to happen!”

You all laugh, soaking up the relief and happiness of the moment. Although it took so long, you’re sure you and Grayson will appreciate every moment together going forward.

#bro i loved this concept #thank you for sending it!#grayson dolan #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins concept #dolan twins smut #dolan twins imagine #g.blurb #g.fluff

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mydarlingklaus · 4 years ago

Text

The Confrontation

So this is the second part of my “the merge” drabble which you can find part one here! I highly recommend you read part one first so it makes sense. This is going to be a 3 (or 4) part drabble that I’ve enjoyed writing about and hope you enjoy reading. I’ve already gotten great feedback for it. Leaving reviews on my ff.net account are appreciated. thanks :)

Summary: Aftermath of Klaus finding out that the twins have to merge. This is now the confrontation between Caroline and Lizzie.

(I will die on the hill that Klaus is Lizzie’s dad and no one can tell me shit!)

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

"Mom?"

Caroline instantly lifted her tear-stained face from the palms of her hands to meet Lizzie's worried gaze from across the room. She didn't even realize how fast the school day went and it was already lunch time—nursing a second glass of scotch that had been beside her elbow since morning.

"Hey sweetie." Caroline greeted with a sniffle, wiping away the tears underneath her eyes. "I thought you were studying during your lunch break?"

Lizzie swallowed, taking in her mom's appearance of puffy red eyes and tear coated cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" She wondered.

Despite her distress, Caroline had to push it to the side and seeing her daughter reminded her of that. She still had a school to run and daughters to raise—-chalking up Klaus' absence as a 'time away for work in NOLA' with a quivering fake smile each time they asked. 'Fake it till you make it' was a phrase Caroline knew all too well.

"It's nothing." She brushed off with a hesitant smile.

"Obviously it's something." The braided haired witch challenged.

"What do you want Lizzie? I really don't have time to just talk. I'm very busy." Caroline snapped.

Lizzie scoffed. "Yeah, I can see that." Nodding her head towards the booze. "But fine we can skip the mother/daughter chit chat and cut right to the chase. I want to know why you've been lying to us."

Caroline's eyes grew and lump in her throat jumped at the abrupt—-and accurate—- accusation.

The charade worked, the first day, but Lizzie only grew more persistent. Constantly pestering and pointing out the holes in the fabricated story, mainly Klaus dodging her phone calls—he's never done that since she was able to use a phone.

"I—I don't know what you mean—"

She shook her head. "Don't do that, please don't make an idiot out of me more than you already have!"

"Keep your voice down. School is still in session." Caroline demanded in a hush tone.

The young witch telepathically slammed the door shut behind her, earning a glare from her mother.

"I want to know what happened to Klaus, and I know it was something because he's never ignored my phone calls or texts before. And he definitely never goes back to New Orleans without at least saying goodbye—emergency or not."

Three days.

Three long and antsy days had gone by since she last seen or heard from Klaus. She called all of his siblings but they to not have heard from him either.

Caroline couldn't get that look out of her head. His face full of such disgust and betrayal he could barely suppress his boiling anger—he hadn't looked at her like that since their first days of knowing each other, when he was the enemy and she didn't know what he'd mean to her.

Not that she didn't deserve it, but he didn't even say goodbye before she had to find out on her own when his things were packed and car missing. He was big bad hybrid Klaus, so she wasn't necessarily concerned for his safety, but not knowing where he was and if he was mentally stable caused just as much anxiety.

Caroline gave Alaric an earful for informing Klaus before she had the opportunity to, which only resulted in her feeling worse than she already did. She never expected Klaus to take the news about the merge lightly, but she underestimated how hurt he'd feel. He's feeling as helpless as she now does.

After hundreds of failed calls and texts, the only thing Caroline could do was impatiently wait for this return—whenever that would be. She didn't even know where he was, crying herself to sleep every night. Missing him, yearning and worried about him. Subconsciously reaching over to the cold vacant spot on the bed beside her where his warm body usually lied to embrace her in his arms as they caught slumber together. He was her refugee and security—now he wasn't. Caroline never felt more incomplete and unsafe.

It was driving her crazy not knowing his whereabouts or his well being—she couldn't pretend that the fragility of their relationship wasn't also packing into her anxiety.

Caroline sighed, standing from her office chair. "It's complicated—"

"It always is with you." She muttered.

"Hey!" Caroline sternly pointed her finger. "I don't care how you're feeling or how upset you are, you won't disrespect me."

"You have to give respect to earn it, and lying to me about where Klaus has been when you've seen me going crazy over it isn't exactly role model behavior."

"Lizzie—"

"What happened? Where is he!"

"I don't know!" Caroline blurted.

She felt all she could do in this moment was scream. As if her anxiety wasn't already thriving on Klaus' sudden disappearance her own disgusted wasn't making it better with her accusations.

"I don't know..." Caroline repeated, looking up at her beautiful daughter who's tear-filled eyes matched hers.

Lizzie cautiously approached her mother who was now holding her hand over her mouth to suppress her sobs. She pushed her hair back anxiously, swallowing her nerves while taking a seat and crossing her legs.

"Um, did you and Klaus like break up or something?" She asked, fearing the response.

Caroline shook her head, wiping under her eyes again. "No, nothing like that."

- Right?

Lizzie let out a subtle breath of relief.

"But it is something. Bad enough for him to leave out of nowhere. Please mom." Scooting to the edge of the chair. "What happened between you two?"

The obvious concern in her daughter's voice only worsened Caroline's guilt.

There was no one in this scenario she was more angry with than herself and she hated not having the answers Lizzie wanted, but she was scared. Scared to tell her the truth of why Klaus fled in the first place—possibly losing him was devastating but losing Lizzie or Josie would be soul crushing.

Caroline took a deep breath, leaning against her desk while grabbing both of Lizzie's hands. Her beautiful and smart Lizzie, with so many aspirations and goals for her future. How was she supposed to explain that in just a few years there's a 50/50 chance she won't have one?

"Um, me and Klaus had an argument."

Lizzie's eyebrows scrunched. "But you guys never argue, and if you do it's over dumb stuff like when he wanted to fly me and Josie out to Tokyo for our sweet 16 during a school week."

Caroline sadly laughed, thinking back on all of Klaus' outrageous and ridiculous gestures that made her love him so much.

"Yeah..." She sniffled. "Um, Lizzie there's something I need to tell you and I really wish Josie was here because it's actually something I need to tell both of you."

Lizzie gulped, suddenly feeling a shiver of panic run down her arms as Caroline continued.

"Jo, your birth mother, was a descendant from what is known as the Gemini coven. When you girls were first born I didn't know what that meant or the significance until your fifth birthday when you began developing your magic...that's when your father explained it to me."

"Dad?" Lizzie questioned.

- What did he have to do with it?

Licking her lips nervously, Caroline resumed. "Being apart of this particular coven comes with a price, a curse known as 'the merge', for every new set of twins. When Gemini twins turn 22 years old the merge forces you to participate in a duel against one another to determine who will lead the coven until the next generation. Only one of you is meant to survive..."

The young witch gulped again, as she tried to process what was being told to her. This was impossible information to digest and she felt any second she was going to puke.

"So...what you're saying is that, one of us will have to kill the other?" Lizzie asked, feeling more sick and confused with every burning question popping into her head and how it led to Klaus' departure.

- Did he know about this?

She wondered.

"More like absorb." Caroline clarified. "Whoever is to win the duel would acquire the other's power. That's part of why I was doing so much traveling a few years back, why I was away from home all those long and tortuous months. It was to find a cure or some type of loophole. We were hoping this would be something neither of you would even have to know about, let alone experience."

- What the hell?

Was all Lizzie could think. She felt frozen in the uncomfortable chair, barely listening anymore to her own mother justifying her reason to keep her death sentence a secret her entire life—their lives.

Josie.

How was she supposed to break this down to her sister when she didn't fully understand it herself? Lizzie's entire life felt like a lie. What other secrets were her parents keeping from them?

How did her life take such a drastic turn in a mere of a few minutes? Just yesterday she was brainstorming prom dresses and venue ideas for the dance. Post-graduation plans of going off to New York for college and stressing over if Sebastian would follow her wherever she went. Would their relationship even make it to graduation? Would she live in dorms or pursued Klaus to pitch in for an apartment? Design school or major in literature? She was supposed to be thinking about the beginning of her life, not the ending.

"I know this is a lot to take in at once and you must have a million questions that I'm more than willing to answer." Caroline said, making Lizzie blink—-one, two, three times as she mentally jumped back into the conversation. Her face still blank as the words spewed.

The letters G-U-I-L-T couldn't be bolder on her mother's face if they tried. Her pleading blue eyes and quivering bottom lip did nothing to sway Lizzie from her state of shock.

"You can't imagine how sorry I am we didn't tell you girls sooner, but it's what we felt was best at the time. We wanted to wait until your 18th birthday with the hopes we'd find a solution by then, and you girls would be old enough to understand..."

Lizzie still said nothing.

Caroline squeezed her hand. "Sweetie I know this is scary and overwhelming. Believe me this wasn't easy on me or your father having to keep it from you and your sister, definitely not how we wanted to tell you. It wasn't our intention to lie. This was an impossible decision to make, everyday it killed me that you girls didn't know but...how do you tell your children that there are things you can't protect them from, not even each other?"

One tear fell down each of Lizzie's cheek, unsure if she was more angry or sad—maybe a lot of both. Her life was flipped, disintegrating, literally hanging by a thread and the only person she wanted to console in and seek advice from was MIA.

"You should have told us..." Lizzie finally said, coldly, when she eventually found her voice. Abruptly snatching her hands from Caroline's and placing them in her own lap.

The small—-microscopic—-understanding part of her brain was quickly being dominated by her burning rage.

Her lips quivered as she stood to her feet, stepped outside the chair to increase the distance between them. Seeing Caroline's face dramatically drop made her stomach turn, briefly, then she was reminded why she looked so distraught in the first place.

She shook her head frantically. "You—you should have told us, way before now. Way before you encouraged us to live our abnormal life as greatly as possible. Remember that?"

"Lizzie—"

"Instead of giving me and Josie false hope that we had any chance of getting out of this shit town to do anything we desire, you should've just told us the damn truth!"

"Elizabeth Saltzman!" Caroline stomped her foot powerfully, enough to shake the ground.

Lizzie knew she was crossing the line but her anger piled on top of each other until it became its own monster. But she didn't care about, not anymore.

"I had dreams, real goals for my future mom." Lizzie sobbed. "For the first time in years I felt normal and was genuinely happy. My mental health was managed and I was actually looking forward to living. I was going to leave Mystic Falls, did you know that?!"

Caroline gasped. "Wh-what?"

Lizzie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, why would you? But yes I had a whole plan mapped out to leave this place after graduation. Go to school somewhere new. I wanted to stay stateside for now, probably New York with Auntie Rebekah or Los Angeles with Uncle Kol. Just to start a new life, my own, in a big vibrant city where no one knew who I was. Where I wouldn't be the neurotic witch, the bipolar freak, Josie's sister, or Caroline Forbes' daughter...I'd just be me. Attending whatever college I wan and make new real friends and finally live my life!"

Lizzie looked heartbroken, as the hot tears dogged her vision.

Caroline opened and closed her mouth. This was brand new information. It never occurred to her that either of the twins desires to flee the small town they've known as home—-neither ever brought it up. This reminded her a lot of herself at their age, stores she's told them multiple times in disguise of bedtime stories. Which only pained her more that Lizzie didn't think she could confide in her about these incredible dreams.

"You—you never told me about that."

"You never asked." Lizzie fired back, crossing her arms over chest defensively.

Caroline nodded. "You're right, I should've. I've been so invested in so many things lately I allowed them to overrun you and I'm sorry. I should be more involved in your future as well as your present—"

"Is it because you know only one of us would have one?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed offensively.

"Lizzie, of course not. I always had hope we would find something by now and I'm sorry we didn't. I'm sorry this is how you found out and that all of this is happening. You have to know this is the last thing I wanted for either of you." She pleaded, reaching for her daughter who instantly pushed her hand away.

Her chest tightened at the blatant rejection.

17 years, neither of the twins had ever been genuinely angry with Caroline before, besides basic teenage angst. Never were they full blown hateful or disrespectful, not that she blamed her but the justification didn't lessen the pain. The way Lizzie was staring at her, with such disgust and hurt pulsing through her bloodshot blue eyes made Caroline's stomach turn. She was taking the full beating for something initiated by both her and Alaric—-she'll relay the anger towards him later.

It was the same way Klaus looked at her.

Pulling a tissue from her bag Lizzie wiped her nose, biting down on her bottom lip. Growing more enraged by the second as the realization settled in and raised her eyes.

"He didn't know either, did he?"

Caroline licked her dry lips anxiously.

"Answer me." Lizzie demanded through her clenched pearly white teeth, huffing out a puff of air when her mother responded.

"No, he didn't."

Pacing, back and forth, in her corner—pinching her bottom lip between her shaky index finger and thumb Lizzie felt she was at her wits end. Despite her shattered exterior, it was comforting to know Klaus was just as in the dark about the situation.

She was certain she wouldn't be able to handle Klaus of all people lying to her too.

The young witch eventually stopped pacing, hanging her head low with her hands firmly on her denim clad hips. Trying to gather all her thoughts best she could but every conclusion had the same tragic outcome. Lizzie loved her mother, with everything she had, but this was a life decision she and Alaric made about she and Josie's life. This was a huge secret they voluntarily kept from them since birth—no matter the intentions it was wrong and harmful and drove away the only person in her life who's ever been honest with her.

Quite frankly she was too hurt and confused to care about anyone's feelings but her own.

Caroline stood patiently by her desk, waiting for her daughter to break the tension any second now.

Lizzie sniffled. "Klaus, um—Klaus wasn't an easy adjustment when he officially became apart of our lives. I didn't know what he was supposed to be to me and Josie, what Hope was supposed to be. There was a moment, brief, but a moment where I didn't want either of them around. I never told anyone that."

The baby vampire felt all her emotions bottling up in the base of her throat at her daughter's shocking admission.

"Klaus quickly became one of the most important people in my life—probably the only person I could depend on fir anything, but especially when life became overwhelming." She explained, blinking away her thick tears. "He was always the one who told me to dream big, to never limit myself no matter how far fetched it seemed. He encouraged all three of us—me, Josie and Hope—to get away from this small town the first chance we got if that's what we wanted. He wanted us to live. He was the most constant thing I had and you took that from me, you took everything from me..." She shook her head side to side, still not entirely processing the devastating news.

Caroline's chest caved and heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Hearing all of this—-what Klaus meant to Lizzie and vice versa—broke her heart more than anything she's ever encountered in her 25 years of living. All the death and tragedy that's surrounded her since knowing the existence of the supernatural held no water to the familial bond she broke between father and daughter.

Seeing Lizzie so distraught was gut wrenching, and knowing nothing she could say would make her pain go away. Caroline had to admit she underestimated the reactions from a kept secret fueled by good intentions.

Swallowing back her tears, she tried reaching her hand out again. "Lizzie please—"

"Klaus left because of you. He abandoned us and it's your fault!" Lizzie screamed, aggressively pushing her away and unintentionally blowing out the lights in Caroline's office and the outdoor hallway.

The ground shook—like a mini earthquake—but enough to rattle around everything in the large office space. No doubt the rest of the school felt it just as intensely. Caroline covered her ears and slightly lost her balance, tripping over her feet as the shaking wound down. Her initial mortified gaze now stunned and proud at her girl's amazing abilities but Lizzie wasn't letting up—leaving now room for praise.

"He left because he couldn't bare to stare at your lying face anymore than I can." She said exhaustedly. Voice hoarse, face blank and wet with tears.

Her body was present but it seemed she consciously wasn't. She had no more energy to give. After all the cries and yells she was mentally drained, not even enough to show a reaction to Caroline who was practically sobbing in front of her. Maybe there was a rational side to this, maybe, somewhere deep inside her core surely there was a justification. But Lizzie didn't have it in her to search for it, not now and she wasn't sure if she ever would.

Caroline pressed her quivering lips into a tight line, staring up at the ceiling to clear the glassy film over her eyes before fixating on her daughter again—no such luck. The rage, understood, the grief—valid. But the blatant disrespect was exceeding a level of inappropriate she didn't think was possible.

"Lizzie." She said sternly, approaching her with an equally reddened face. "This is a lot, I get that and your anger is beyond justified. I love you, and Klaus, and I really wish he was here right now but he's not. I don't know where he is yet. I don't know when or if he's coming back anytime soon and I'm sorry I can't provide you all the answers you want, but what I do know is that I'm still your mother. No matter how upset you are that is never going to change and you will not speak to me anyway you want. Is that understood?"

Lizzie swallowed audibly. Her body still facing forward as she grabbed the doorknob and twisting it with her shaky wrist. Staring Caroline down with a glare so sharp, it defined the phrase 'looks can kill'.

"You're not even my real mom. You're just the surrogate, remember?"

- Wow.

Caroline's stomach dropped, knees buckled and face drained of color and emotions. Her undead heart grew colder and weaker and body shriveled like a flower during Winter time, as Lizzie's haunting last words repeatedly stabbed her in the chest, over and over again. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out—-there were no words to explain how Caroline was feeling. Even if it was a heat of the moment outburst, the blow couldn't have been any lower.

She didn't think anything could hurt more than watching Klaus walk away, until her distraught daughter stormed out the door without another look.

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

Night time came quicker than anticipated. The school day came and went, and an exhausted Caroline couldn't be more relieved to be in the comfort of her home. Thankfully the house was empty, giving her all the alone tone she craved. Throwing her keys on the marble countertop after closing the door behind her—immediately making her ear upstairs to her room to drop off her bags and laptop.

After the horrific confrontation with Lizzie, the remainder of the afternoon Caroline was stuck with paperwork, phone calls, meetings and delinquent students. Never her favorite moments of the day but it was the perfect distraction from her personal life. The last thing Lizzie said still ringing in her ear and making her bleed by the lobes.

You're not even my real mom.

- Yup, still stings.

Still in disbelief Lizzie had it in her to say such a thing—to want to hurt her that badly. Bringing back the negative memories of when the twins were first born and everyone referred to them as Alaric's instead of theirs. Having to fight and prove she was worthy of the title as a mother, as if she wasn't the one who carried them for nine months and nearly died from it.

Her past frustrations beginning to mingle with the new.

She hadn't seen Lizzie around campus since and didn't make any attempts at calling or texting. Caroline figured she needed some space, it was a heavy case load of information that she was nowhere near prepared to drop yet. She wondered if Josie knew yet, or even Hope.

Caroline heavily sighed—-wanting nothing more than a warm bath, jazz on vinyl and a Cosmopolitan to was it all down.

Now in her bedroom, she prepared for just that. Her leather jacket, black pumps and laptop bag suffered the same fate as her house keys—carelessly thrown on the nearest surface. Running her fingers through her golden blonde curls with another sigh leaving her lips, taking as many breaths possible.

Looking down at the freshly made queen sized bed, she briefly paused, realizing this would make night four of sleeping in its comfort alone. No more safe and warm arms wrapped around her waist, holding her body snugged against his front. Light kisses and seductive licks up her exposed neck. Humming to sleep with a lazy smile as he whispered dirty confessions and sweet nothings on her ear. No more whispered 'I love yous' shared in the dark when basking in their mutual glow after making love.

She missed him...god did she miss him. Everything about Klaus made her feel so whole—never feeling more loved in her entire life. It amazed her how quickly he became a focal point in her life and how, just as quickly, he wasn't there.

This was the longest they've gone without speaking to each other and it was pure torture.

With that thought Caroline sat up on her bed, legs tucked under each other's and pulled her iPhone out her purse.

Her throat tightened—biting down on her bottom lip apprehensively as her thumb waved over his name in her contacts list. If she had a heartbeat she would've heard it pounding crazily in her ears by now. Giving their recent track record, the likelihood of him answering her at all was slim to none...

- What the hell.

Realizing she had nothing to lose, Caroline sucked in some bravery and pressed the 'call' button with a shaking thumb. Holding the device against her ear impatiently but, per usual, she was directed to his automatic voice message system. She wasn't too surprised he turned his phone off but more by his other skills.

Even for being centuries old and, usually, technologically challenged Klaus had enough knowledge on modern technology to disable the tracking feature.

Caroline smiled to herself at the sound of his distinct and seductive voice for his voicemail, remembering when she begged him to record one and how it took 15 minutes to persuade; nearly bursting into tears before the beep.

- This is so pathetic. You look pathetic and needy but if you just hang up now you can redeem some of your dignity.

Going against her own subconscious, she remained on the phone and quickly composed herself while clearing her throat at the sound of the beep.

- Shit.

"Hey, it's me but you already knew that because my number is in your phone." Caroline began with a sad smile and picking at the fabric of her pants with her fingertips. "Um, so I know your phone has been off the past couple of days and you're not exactly in the mood to talk to me now which I understand but um...I hope you're okay. You're on my mind everyday and...well I've had quite the day, a pretty shitty one actually and all I wanted to do afterwards was come home to you. Whenever I feel horrible I go to you, not because it takes one shitty thing to know another or anything like that. I just—" She smacked herself on the forehead.

Now she was a rambling mess, per usual when put in nerve racking situations but she caught herself. Closing her eyes for a second to release a long exhale before continuing.

Her blue eyes already welling up like the sea.

"You always make me feel better because, well you're the love of my life. That's still surreal to say, um, but it's true. You make me feel safe and valid, even when I probably don't deserve it. You're my greatest supporter, shoulder to cry on. You give me comfort, and I could really use some of that right now." She sniffled into a smile, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I regret keeping that from you when all you've ever done was be honest with me, but even more I regret letting you walk out that door. I didn't realize how much you were the glue keeping his family together until you were gone. We need you home, I need you. I miss you, and I really wish you were here."

The minute she hung up the phone, with a final tear streaming down her face, Alaric appeared in the doorway with bugged eyes and frustrated expression on his face.

Caroline's eyebrows pulled together in concern as she stood from her bed.

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, leaning one hand against the threshold. "It's Lizzie, she's gone."

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

Klaus stared intently at the wall of his dark studio—sketchbook resting on his lap and a glass of bourbon in his hand. Everyone else in the house were in their respective rooms, likely asleep, but he was wide awake and alone.

He didn't intend on staying in New Orleans longer than a couple of days—-fleeing wasn't in his plans either—-but every night he'd close his and an image of the twins lying lifeless in the dirt flashed before him and jerking him awake. The news of the merge wasn't something he wanted to accept, nor something he could avoid—Caroline avoided it long enough.

Caroline.

His Caroline. His light, his love, his everything and more—who he now couldn't look at without feeling immense anger. With all the progression they've made through the years, from a friendship to blending their families he couldn't fathom why she didn't think she could confide in him. Why she didn't trust him with the truth about the girls—their girls! Now it felt too late, not enough time to be there for them the way he promised. Five years were nothing. They'll fly by in a blink of an eye, which one of them would be dead and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Despite his animosity towards her, Klaus missed Caroline the longer he stayed away. Over a decade she played a crucial role in his heart and finally having her in his life intensified the already burning love. He missed kissing her before going to sleep and distracting her from work responsibilities. Everything about her made him happy to be alive. They never went more than a day without speaking, let alone him abruptly leaving and not at least informing her of his whereabouts.

He transformed into a wolf that first night, running wild and free in the dark woods of Mystic Falls for the whole night. Desperately trying to but out his frustration that never left. The urge to rip apart anyone who stood in his way was strong. All he saw was vibrant blood shot red as the moon washed through his dark brown coat, howling to himself in despair. Klaus was usually incapable of controlling his beast but demonstrated remarkable self control as he regained form any kills and turned back to a two-legged man when the sun began to set. Getting dressed and driving off to New Orleans like his life depended on it. Compelling his way through speeding tickets and hitchhiker's blood for the road, before finally arriving to his home.

Living under the same roof with Elijah, Freya and Hayley again wasn't an arrangement he missed in the slightest. Just as nosy as ever with their millions of inquires when he arrived on the front door. Thankfully all his irritants of siblings didn't live together anymore, but it didn't take long for word to spread to Rebekah and Kol who bombarded his phone with invasive questions. Hayley was probably the most respectable. After receiving the reassurance that Hope was safe, they spoke briefly while he unpacked. She knew his surprise arrival was Caroline related but didn't press him for information like the rest of the Mikaelson clan—Klaus appreciated the discretion.

Eventually he turned his phone off, not just to ignore his siblings but to also fight the temptation of reaching out to a certain blonde. He was in no shape to speak to her right now, and their last confrontation wasn't pretty either. Instead he buried himself into his art and community to distract from the shenanigans known as Mystic Falls.

Klaus' ears perked and eyes shot up when he sensed a presence outside the mansion—his suspicions confirmed at the sound of the doorbell repeatedly ringing. He threw his head back with a groan, certainly not in the mood for any surprise company—not to mention it was the middle of the night.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Fuckin' hell." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

After finishing off his drink, Klaus slammed it on the table and stood from the chair with murder on his mind.

Storming towards the front door he yanked it open with as much force as he could muster, fangs out and vampiric eyes already golden and threatening.

Klaus' body stiffened.

His jaw clenched and stomach dropped as he held the door open. A mix of emotions ran through him as he stared in awe at the blonde girl before him who was looking back at him with the doest of eyes.

"Lizzie?" His voice almost a whisper.

"Surprise!" She hesitantly waved. Her half lip-glossed smile made his chest jump and hands soften.

After the initial shock faded, his eyes observed her appearance to make sure she was at least in good condition before he lashed out.

She had an overnight bag hanging on her arm and backpack thrown across her back. It was a fairly warm night, so her washed jeans with a cropped black sweater and tennis shoes was perfect attire; however, not typical Lizzie-like attire. Her wavy blonde hair was still perfectly in place.

Klaus nearly cried at the sight of her angelic face, for more than one reason.

- What the hell is she doing here? How did she know I was here? Is she here alone?

She was safe, good, now he can be mad.

"What—what are you doing here in New Orleans, at bloody 2 A.M. no less?"

"Klaus I—"

"How did you even get here?" He asked.

Lizzie gulped. "I—I flew."

"You flew, alone?" Klaus' eyes widened with his assumption.

She nodded.

He shook his head in disbelief while running his fingers through his curls irritably as if he felt a migraine coming along.

"Are you mad!" Klaus stepped closer towards her. "You drove through the French Quarter, on your own for the first time in the middle of the night. What were you thinking? Anything could've happened to you Lizzie do you realize that!" He growled.

"But nothing did. As you can see I'm fine!"

Words couldn't describe the amount of fear running through his body and blood rushing to his brain, at just the thought of anything going awry during her journey. Whether it be through the airport or on her way to the mansion. Lizzie's safety being compromised in his own city. He didn't even care that he was yelling.

This was New Orleans, boundaries were obsolete. He's seen what can happen to girls wandering around the city alone—he's had his fair share of sins. Knowing he'd paint the entire state of Louisiana red if anyone even thought of touching her.

Klaus rubbed his hand over his face, taking a deep breath while trying to calm himself.

Licking her lips nervously, Lizzie sighed.

She knew he'd be shocked to see her but maybe she overestimated how much.

"Look, I know you're like really pissed off with me and I get that. There's an actual explanation which we can talk about all of it inside but...you wouldn't by any chance have $60 to cover my cab? I kinda already told the driver you were good for it."

Just when he thought his night was uneventful.

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

part 3 coming soon!

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #lizzie saltzman #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #KLAUS IS THE FATHER LIZZIE DESERVED!!#and they'd be inseparable #my writing #klaroline shippers club #caroline's voicemail was my fav part to write #and the klaus/lizzie scene obviously #lizzie saltzman-forbes mikaelson

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2sunchild2 · 5 years ago

Text

Daminette au: Slow burn

I’m writing this instead of my fic because I just got hit by a little bitch, named inspiration.

Au by the great and powerful wizard of Oz @ozmav

Tags owo: @mindfulmagics @realrandomposts @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @slytherinsheashire @kelelamentia @justatempo-writes @jaynintodd @maribat-archive @starry-bi-sky @ayuchan07 @kaitlinmarley @miraculous-mangoes

ՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁ

15 year old, the meeting

Damian Wayne was never the social type. He mostly kept to himself and tended to stray away from any social interaction. There was plenty of that at home. He repeats to himself every time he gets upset over not having a friend.

He walked up the steps of Gotham Academy so he could escape whatever embarrassment Jason was planning on putting him to. The kid around him began whispering, and although immune to it (they talked about him a lot), he couldn’t help but eavesdrop at th conversation going on two feet away. He didn’t want to be obvious so he didn’t lean in too much, but he heard snippets.

...new girl...

...Paris...

...just moved...

A new girl? Interesting. He would look into that when he gets the chance. He made his way to the science classroom, bumping into an unfamiliar body. The people around them quieted down, staring curiously. The body ended up being a girl, who unfortunately dropped her books. She blushed in embarrassment and started speaking in a language he knew, but never really spoke.

She was rambling in French.

She was unfamiliar to him.

Oh... she was the new student.

She stopped when she noticed the silence and looked down, probably more embarrassed than before, if that was even possible.

“Damian Wayne.”

He had no reaction to the voice of Olive Silverlock (a real character I swear I looked it up) who marched up to him with a steely gaze.

“Are you trying to scare our new student on her first day?” The silver haired class president didn’t give him a chance to answer since she turned to face the flustered French girl, “You’re Marinette, right?”

The girl managed to nod. Olive grinned and locked their arms together, “Let’s get you settled in your dorm, ‘kay? And then I’ll give you a tour.”

The girl smiled at that, her blue eyes shone brightly. She let out a soft ‘merci’ to Olive and she turned to Damian before being dragged away.

“Je m’excuse.”

16 years old, the first step; starting out

Damian Wayne was not one to go out with a girl. That was Dick’s job. And yet, he looked at his best friend, whose head rested on his shoulder as she thought of a new design.

They were at the park today. Marinette mumbles something about the need to be inspired. They were in the manor at the time and Titus, with his amazing timing, wanted to go outside. It was a win win for everybody.

Damian watched as she focused on the blank page she seemed to be at war with. It was actually funny to see her this frustrated. He tried to hide his chuckle and failed. It was rewarded with a bone-chilling Marinette Dupain-Cheng glare. He put his hands up in surrender and smiled sheepishly. She went back to her glaring match with the paper.

Damian sighed and leaned back against the bench, “Don’t stress too much about it Angel, inspiration will surly make its way to your lap in no time,” he gestured towards the book set on her thighs.

It seemed like someone was in fact listening to him. A pretty pink petal had landed in the middle of the sketchbook. Marinette picked it up curiously before letting out a gasp. She turned to Damian with the biggest smile he’d seen today, “My best friend Damian,” she started, “I was hit, by a little bitch called inspiration.”

Damian let out a laugh. Only Mari.

17 years old, the second step; accepting

Damian Wayne didn’t like a lot of people. And Chloe Bourgeois was far from being one of the few. She arrived in Gotham, claiming to be a friend of Marinette’s. He was doubtful but the girl kept insisting and frankly, he wanted her to shut up.

Turns out the blonde girl was right because the next think he knew she was being tackled by his best friend. They were both on the floor, laughing in the lobby of the student dorms.

They sat in the cafe and he couldn’t help but notice how much lighter Marinette seemed to feel with this girl. She looked happy.

Damian decided that Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t so bad. As long as he got to see his Angel smile, he was content.

18 years old, the third step; falling

Damian Wayne was not an emotional person. He didn’t cry when he failed that one exam. He didn’t cry when he got badly hurt in a fight (though he tried to reassure Mari he was okay but she was not having it and he kept flinching every time he moved). Hell, he didn’t even cry during graduation.

So you can imagine the shock he was feeling when he felt a tear rolling down his cheek as Marinette stepped out of her dorm room in her prom dress. He could see Olive smirking at him from the corner of his eye but he paid no attention to her, he was to busy gawking at the beauty in front of him.

He never left her side during the party. And if she ever walked off to talk to some friends, he would always be watching her. Some guys kept telling him how ‘whipped’ he was. He did was he did best and ignored them.

The last dance of the night was surely something he’d remember for the rest of the night. They held each other closely while the music was playing in the background. He stared at her bluebell eyes as though nothing else mattered. It was just them.

It was safe to say he wasn’t expecting a slow kiss. But it happened. He enjoyed it. And he kissed back.

19 years old, the fourth step; realizing

She left.

Well, not entirely. She just wasn’t in Gotham at the moment. And she wouldn’t be back until Christmas.

Marinette had gone off to college abroad, in Paris, specifically, to pursue her fashion career.

And even tough they video chatted every weekend, it wouldn’t fill the gaping hole in his chest. He wanted her there, with him. He wanted to snuggle up to her while they watched one of those cheesy rom-coms she enjoyed so much. He wanted to sit in the kitchens and watch her hum a Disney tune while she baked. He wanted to hold her whenever she cane running to him with good news. He wanted to be with her while she sat down and sketched. He thought it was adorable the way she scrunched her brows in concentration, or how she stuck her tongue out when she was sketching, or, whenever she had artist’s block, when she’d doodle little things on his hand. He wanted to hold her dammit. He wanted to take her out, court her. He wanted to be with her, and for her to be with him. He wanted to hug her so tightly and tell her how much he loved her.

Huh. Love.

That’s something he hadn’t thought about before. Did he love Marinette? Or was this just admiration?

No. Fuck that. Fuck admiration.

He loved her. He fucking loved her.

He was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

20 years old, the final step; confessing

Damian Wayne was not nervous. Of course he wasn’t! He was Damian Wayne! He was Robin for fuck’s sake. Surely that would be harder than a little confession.

Right?

That was what he had initially thought.

And he was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Damian Wayne was a fucking wreck.

Marinette had been rambling about one of her design projects. One she, obviously, passed with flying colours. That wasn’t what he had been paying attention to though. Maybe it was how the July breeze seemed to brush her hair, making it fly. Maybe it was the way she used her hands so animatedly whenever she told him a story. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled when she got exited over something.

“I love you.”

That made her stop. And it made him regret opening his mouth.

She stared at him, mouth agape, face as red as the strawberries in the bowl she was holding.

“I...you...what?”

Well, he couldn’t take it back now. And he did mean it. God this was noth how he had imagined confessing.

“I love you,” he took a sharp breath, “I’ve loved you for quite some time now actually. I only realized it last year.”

He raked his had through this hair and let out a shaky breath, “I honestly don’t know how it happened, but it did. And I’m glad it it.”

He looked back at her to see how she’d react. Her eyes were still wide and it didn’t seem like she’d be saying anything so he decided to continue.

“You don’t have to answer immediately! I was uhh... wondering if... you would let me court you... you don’t have to accept I mean you already have so much going on but if you’re willing—”

He was cut off. It took him a second to process what was happening.

She was kissing him.

Holy shit! She was kissing him!

But before he could kiss back, she pulled away, much to his disappointment.

“I love you too, silly,”she gave him a big toothy grin, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could practically hear his hear beating in his chest.

She intertwined their hands and leaned in, “And I would love for you to court me.”

They were about to kiss again, but, this time, someone else decided to interrupt.

A faint ‘yes!’ was heard near the bushes, the voice sounded scarily familiar to Dick’s, which followed by a slap and an offended ‘ow’.

“Should we tell them we know they’re spying on us?”

His Angel laughed and shook her head, “Let them have their fun.”

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

Last post before I start school!

#maridami #daminette #maribat fic #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug au #made me emotional

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #357

“your magic white rabbit has left its writing on the wall / we follow like alice, and just keep diving down the hole”

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing, by a long shot. What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? i'm a barbie girl in a fckn barbie woooooorld What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read magazines. If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Probably a house cat. Be indoors and safe, able to just nap... lol. But I'd want another cat as a friend, too! Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? Indoors, by a mile. I get hot outside way too easily. Do you know if you were a planned child? I don't know. What’s your favorite gem? Dragon's breath opal. As an adult, do you want to live in an apartment or a house? I'd like to live in a house, especially with the pets I want. I doubt many apartment complexes would allow multiple reptiles and inverts. Do you like the stem or leafy part of the broccoli? It doesn't matter much to me, but I prefer the stem. The texture is more likeable to me. Do bats frighten you? No, I adore bats! Does Paris appeal to you? Yeah, it's a pretty place. Are you a KPOP fan? No, I've never really checked it out. How long was your longest relationship? Over three and a half years. First time you kissed the last person you kissed? We were outside roasting marshmallows one night. Do you have to really know someone to kiss them? Absolutely. I don't dish 'em out for nothing. Were you anyone’s first kiss? No. If you had to be named after one of the 50 states of America, what state would you WANT to be named after? I actually think "Nevada" would be kinda pretty as a name? Do you think morals are universal or relative to the beliefs, traditions, or practices of individuals or groups? I've wondered this for a long while, really. I lean towards it being a mix, maybe? But more towards universal, I think... with some exceptions. This answer is all over the place, I honestly don't know. Is torture ever a good option? If no, why not? If yes, when? No? I think the "why not" is obvious... You just don't. What do you think is one one of the most undervalued professions right now? Teachers, garbagemen, retail and food workers... There's a lot. Have you ever seen anyone have a heart attack? Thank Christ no. Have you personalized your answering machine/voicemail? No. Have you ever had Fiji brand water? I actually don't believe I have, though it's always looked appealing to me, haha. What’s your favorite horror movie? The Crazies and the first Silent Hill, as well as both Blair Witch Projects. What was the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? I'd rather not even think about things the bitch said to me. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you got mad and broke something? I've never broken something when mad. What color dress did you wear to prom? My first was maroon, second one was black. Who is the cutest baby you know? My friend has a daughter named Scarlett who is absolutely gorgeous. Have you ever thrown a rock at a window? No, because I respect people's fucking property. Has anyone ever thrown a rock at your window? No. Does your hair react well to dye, or does it damage it? It likes to not take dye at all. >.> I have only had one instance where a friend dyed it red and it stuck for months and months, but we kept it in for a couple hours, I think. My normal hairdresser says it's because my hair is really healthy and I guess rejects it. What kind of pet do you wish you had? I ramble plenty about how I want tarantulas and more reptiles, haha. I also DESPERATELY want to rescue or foster an opossum. When was the last time you were diagnosed with something? Are you concerned about anything regarding your physical or mental health at the moment? I haven't been diagnosed with anything in quite some time, I believe, but as I'm going through the process of being approved for TMS therapy for my depression, my bipolar diagnosis is being questioned, which is... strange to me. It's been acknowledged by many a doctor that I have bipolar 2, but if insurance recognizes my primary diagnosis as bipolar, they won't cover TMS because it can massively excite the mania portion of bipolarity, and therefore I can't do it because we can't manually afford it. I'm willing to take the risk by far, as I've never had issues with mania, but I can't without insurance. I'm just waiting to hear back from them... What is one blanket judgment you tend to make about people (like, you judge all people who live at home, all people who drink, etc)? Does this judgment come from a particular personal experience? I really don't know. How do you react to other people yelling or slamming doors? Is this something you ever do too? I get very scared if it's a man. I don't like anyone doing it, and my anxiety will spike regardless, I'm just terrified of angry men. Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Who has the power to break you? Jason still might. I don't know. Is anyone in your family blind? My sister is legally blind in one eye. Do you believe in evolution? Yeah. I do find the concept odd, that ALL LIFE originated from one thing, but I sure ain't got a better explanation, so. What job do you think people should be paid the most for? Surgeons, maybe? I dunno, that's a big question. Were you ever held back a year in school? Did you ever skip a grade? No. Have you ever been given a hickey? Have you given one? Yeah to both. What is your least favourite thing about your full name? I have the most basic white bitch middle name in the world, lol. Do you like the age you are? Eh, I don't mind it much, but I think it'd be better to be in my early 20s versus mid 20s. I'm just always so tired now. I can't believe I used to refuse to go to sleep before 10:30. What’s your favourite kind of poptart? The chocolate sundae one. If you had to eat one type (Chinese, etc.) of food which would it be? American bc I'm not very adventurous with food at all. When did your family immigrate to wherever you live now? *shrug* Are your fingers long, or short? Long. Mom's always said I have "piano fingers." Do you play Pokemon Go? If so, what level are you and who’s your buddy? Yeah, I love it, but don't play it nearly as much as I want because I don't exactly go anywhere, lol. My bud's Charmeleon, and I'm probably like five EXP from level 28. Do you ever sit indoors and wear sunglasses or a hat? I don't own either, so. Do you know how to read animals’ behavior? I honestly think I'm very good at it. Do you like playing video games? If so, what do you usually play? Yes, but not as much as I used to. All I really play nowadays is World of Warcraft. The only working console I have is a PS2, and I haven't bought a new game in probably a couple years, but there are definitely ones I want to play, mainly on PS4. Just can't afford it right now. Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. There's no way I could, given my tremors. Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? Books. When is the last time you ate donuts? It's been months, man. I've seriously been craving a glazed one, though. Krispy Kreme sounds amaaaaaziiiiiing. Has anyone ever called you sexy? Somehow. Do you like raisins? NO NO NO NO NO. Have you ever overheard a conversation you weren’t supposed to? More than once. Do you like ants? They're genuinely extremely fascinating animals, but they're seriously annoying nevertheless. Did you like the movie Antz? I loved it as a kid. What was your favorite ice cream flavor when you were little? Chocolate. Is it still your favorite? Eh, depends on the day. By the way, what is your name? Brittany. What time zone do you live in? EST. Do you like cats? I love cats. What’s the most creepy experience you’ve ever had? One night when my mom and sister were at the beach for a dance competition, I was having trouble sleeping, and it only got worse when my dog Teddy started freaking the fuck out, barking loudly and staring intently at the foot of the bed. I was so scared that I tried to force his head to lie down, but he fought against me. I was terrified, but got up out of the bed and went into the living room to call my mom at like 3 in the damn morning, and she had to have our neighbor come over to sleep in the house with me (I was in a different room that night). You can't convince me that there wasn't paranormal shit going on. I think the house was haunted honestly, for multiple reasons. What’s the most boring game to exist? Why do you dislike it so much? Hm, I dunno. What’s the coolest place that you've ever been to? What’d you do there? Disney World was very memorable as a kid. We just went around collecting signatures, going on rides, all that fun stuff. I'll never forget fireworks at the castle. If you’re interested in having a long-term relationship with someone, do you think that waiting a certain amount of time before you first have sex is a good idea? Or does it not matter? I think it's a good idea, personally, mostly for the sake of reducing the spread of STDs. Just because you think you'll be long-term, doesn't mean you will be. Besides that, isn't there a science that sex and feelings of love are connected? Like, sex is impossible without at least some underlying emotions? I might be entirely wrong, in which case forgive me for spreading misinformation, but if that's so and things don't go as planned, you've gotten emotionally invested in someone too early and wind up getting hurt. You do you, I just don't think it's smart. Have you ever discovered something big by looking through someone’s phone, Facebook, email, etc.? No. Have you kept anything from your past relationships? (Things they left at your house, gifts, notes, etc) Do you think that’s a big deal for future relationships or not? Yeah, like plushies and little stuff like that. When it's tiny things like I just mentioned, I really don't think it matters. I think some things might be questionable to keep, but at the same time, I don't think it's really wrong to keep memories of a happy time, if the thing still brings you joy and has been emotionally disconnected from the ex? Idk. Do you have any financial regrets? Either way, what’s an example of a GOOD financial decision you’ve made? Going to and dropping out of college three fucking times. I don't know about a good financial decision seeing as I'm not even in charge of my own finances, nor really have any to begin with. Are you a believer in “signs” from the Universe about things in your life? If you are, can you think of a particular example? No. Name some things that one or both of your parents are really good at or really interested in. Mom LOVES medical stuff, like watching surgeries and stuff like that. She is also absolutely incredible with children. Dad likes sports a lot, hockey and football especially. Think of a good friend of the opposite sex (currently or in the past). Have you ever had any sort of “more than a friend” or sexual thoughts about them? If not, can you explain why? Well, we dated briefly, so... It was awkward to, but I let myself imagine sexual situations a few times to help myself understand if I really did like-like him, or if he was truly just a brother to me. Turns out, he's a bro. If someone told you that you would never achieve something and you ended up doing it, would you have any interest in finding that person and showing them? I'ma be honest, yes. I wouldn't actively seek them out, but rather just hope they somehow find out or I run into them or something. What is the most jealousy-induced thing you’ve ever done? Apparently, be the girl Juan liked instead of this girl that literally threatened to deck me. Guess what? We're friends now lmaoooo.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''white rabbit'' by egypt central

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