#sorry it took me forever to finish this tiff
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hello!! 🥰 could i please get #359??
i literally do not care who it's with, i trust you to give us a tasty meal 😫 go nuts bb
hiiiii tiff <3 so i'm gonna modify this one a bit to be more in line with my personal writing style but like....why is this screaming gojo to me...and to think i'm so afraid of writing him but i think it's unavoidable here ...
359. "So desperate for it, aren't you? If you want it so bad, you'd better take it then."
nsfw under the cut per usual
-
Gojo Satoru is the Strongest.
This is a sometimes annoying, sometimes relieving, always indisputable fact, one which he never tires of reminding you. Usually when he says it, it's in reference to curses or cursed energy. On occasion, he's referencing a drunken arm-wrestling competition or a punching-bag-machine you stumbled across in a bar that he couldn't resist winning just for the hell of it, he's an asshole like that.
When you're the girlfriend of the Strongest, it's easy to feel lesser than. Sharing a bed and a goodnight kiss every night with the closest human equivalent to a god can be taxing on the insecure little part of your brain.
Satoru does what he can to alleviate the toll his teasing and status take on you, from showering you with compliments to being as much of a sweetheart as he is a menace (and that's saying something). But when you're behind the closed doors of your bedroom, spread out before him and panting, Satoru loves to remind just how unequal the playing ground you're both on is.
"So messy," Satoru hums, dragging two long fingers through the slick folds between your legs. He loves having you like this, bare before him with your legs spread while he stays fully clothed, chastising you.
"Satoru," you beg, canting your hips up towards him, seeking the touch that he's suddenly become so stingy with.
"Watch it," Satoru snaps, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses, "thought you were going to be good, what happened to that?"
"I-I'm tryin'," you whimper, curling in on yourself in the face of his disdain. Satoru loves when you misbehave, you know that realistically, but here, in the heat of the moment, the threat of his ever-creative punishments has you squirming.
"Could have fooled me," Satoru says with a disappointed tut, pulling you to your feet and sitting on the edge of the bed. You stand between his legs, watching him curiously, until he pats his thigh, a criminally smooth smile gracing his face.
"Sit?" You go to sit across his legs, but Satoru all but shoves you back to your feet, frowning.
"Sit," Satoru says with a note of implication, gesturing to his muscled thigh again. You catch his meaning, frowning.
"But your pants-"
"But nothing. If you want it so bad, you'd better take it while you have the chance. You know how moody I can be," Satoru lowers his glasses to smirk at you, menacing and cruel.
You straddle his thigh without another thought, the threat behind his words ringing in your ear. The friction from the rough fabric of his slacks is an instant relief against your pulsing core; you shudder as soon as your hot, sticky cunt makes contact with the cool cloth. You tentatively roll your hips once, twice, a broken moan falling out of you.
"There you go," Satoru says, saccharinely sweet, "that better?"
"A- a little," you admit, eyes rolling back in your head as you begin to grind down onto him harder, already having been teased to the point of breaking.
It's shameful, really, how wantonly you moan for him, how quickly you manage to stain his pants, how harshly your fingernails are digging into his shoulders. Satoru watches you, the faintest hint of amusement on his face, and if you were just a tad less fucked out, you would consider smacking him.
But not now, no. Not when you're so close to the release you've been aching for for the last hour, not when your thighs are beginning to shake with the effort of getting yourself off, not when Satoru lands a harsh hand on your hip, dragging you against him harder.
"Sa-Satoru!" you gasp, choking on the syllables of his name, "please, please-"
"So desperate for it, aren't you?" Satoru chuckles, pinching your cheek. "I've barely even touched you pet, how are you this needy already?"
"P-please, I just- so close," you whine, recognizing all too well the chiding tone, the easy cockiness that suits him so well. He's already made himself busy edging you all night, surely he won't-
"Aw," Satoru pouts at your cry of frustration, "something wrong?"
You fruitlessly roll your hips against the cold, unyielding barrier of Satoru's infinity, unreal and unsatisfying beneath your needy cunt. You glare at him through hooded eyes, chest still heaving.
"You're so-"
"Mean? Is that really what you want to call me right now?" The amused sparkle behind Satoru's glasses glimmers out into a look of cold cruelty.
"No, I-"
"Think I'm not going to make you cum?" Satoru tosses you off onto your back, hovering over you with something dangerous and dark playing on his face. "What, are you going to tell me I can't play with my little pet anymore? Can't take it?"
"No," you feel your bottom lip tremble.
"Am I too much for you? If you can't take my games, baby, I don't know how you're going to take everything else I want to give you."
"No, I can- I can take it," you grab at his shirt desperately, eyes shining, "I need it- please, Satoru."
"Sh sh sh," Satoru shushes you, pinching at your cheek, "pathetic little thing, aren't you? So needy for me."
"Mhm," you hum, canting your hips up towards the thigh he slots between your legs, "I just need you, please, Satoru-"
"That's right," Satoru smiles down at you, a tender thumb rubbing over your lips, "just me, right? I'm the only one that can get you this fucked out."
"Just you," you whimper pitifully, trying to roll your hips up into him to no avail.
"That's what I like to hear," Satoru hisses, the first break in his composure all night, "all for me."
#sorry it took me forever to finish this tiff#you fell victim to my writing drought sadly#BUT HERE SHE IS#i hope it's not too rough#again gojo terrifies me but it just fit him SO WELL i had to#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#rage.rambles#ask games
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Sorry Candy
Requested: No (but feel free to send a request for JJ as he's the only person I write for right now)- This is a little idea I got from a TV show. It's not proof read, so sorry if there are any typos/errors. GIF not mine- creds to owner.
Summary: You and JJ got into a little tiff and he finds a unique and nostalgic way to say he’s sorry.
word count: 1.1 K
He hadn't meant to snap at you. Really, it was the combination of Pope rambling on and on about some math theory or another, and Kiara and John B bickering back and forth and then Sarah jumped in, and it was way too hot to be out on The Pogue, and when did he last have any water, and then you knocked the freshly rolled blunt out of his hand. It was the only thing he was counting on to keep him calm amongst all the chaos, so he lost it a bit. He immediately regretted it, yelling at you, his usual solace in the chaos that came from his rambunctious friends. The look on your face after he blew up was enough to make him spiral into his endless thoughts of self-loathing. Losing his temper like this made him think of his dad and he hated it.
You knew he hadn’t meant to get so mad- his mood heightened by his building anxiety. You had noticed a few ticks of his making an appearance before he started rolling the blunt. Although you knew him so well, it didn’t make the sting of him yelling at you hurt any less. Everyone went so quiet after his outburst. You didn’t know where to look. You stiffly stood from your normal spot beside JJ and moved to the back with Pope. Sarah made an excuse about needing to be back home for some Kook event with her family and John B started the long and mostly quiet ride back to the Chateau. Sarah gave you a small smile as they pulled back up to the dock.
JJ watched you practically run to get off the boat. His eyes followed your form all the way to the back door of the chateau where you disappeared inside. He took a few deep breaths and let his head fall into his hands. “I messed up.” Pope chuckled- he was the only one left on the boat with the blonde. John B had disappeared to take Sarah home and Kie was no doubt checking on you. “Messed up, you did.”
“I hadn’t meant to yell at her.”
“I know.”
“You think she’ll forgive me?”
Pope gives a small laugh, “JJ, you may screw shit up a lot, but I don't think you could mess up so bad she wouldn’t forgive you.”
“You didn’t see her face.”
“We all saw her face. You two have known each other forever though. I mean you’re usually so inseparable, you’re practically glued together at the hip. Plus we all know you didn’t really mean to lose it- including her. She knows you best.”
—-------------------------------
Two days had passed since you had shown your face at the Chateau. “She hates me.”
“Have you tried apologizing?” Sarah gives JJ a look. “Yes, I texted her like a thousand times, and I called..”
“JJ. What about an actual face to face apology?”
“Thank you for the original idea Sarah. If you would have let me finish- I called her no less than ten times yesterday and rode by her house. Her mom said she was busy. She’s dodging me, and I don't blame her.”
“You yelled at her in front of all of us. She’s embarrassed and confused. She doesn’t hate you. We are just going to have to be more creative in our apology.” Sarah says coming over to sit by JJ on the couch. She gives him a smile.
“I don’t understand why she’s being so distant though. I mean- she knows I lose my temper every now and then. She knows it's something I’ve been working on.”
“How often has it been at her expense?”
JJ began to ponder this question over. Sure- he got a little over worked sometimes and you knew that. You had had a front row seat to plenty of blow ups. Topper mouthing off to John B and JJ pummeling him, JJ losing his shit on a shift at the kook club, and losing it while ranting about his dad- you had seen it all. Seeing was different than being the sole target though. “Once. Before this time.” and JJ let out a small laugh.
From the confused look on Sarah’s face JJ continued, “We were in second grade. I had built a huge block tower and she accidentally knocked it over- she never was the most graceful. I got so upset though that I grabbed the picture she was coloring and ripped it in half. She just started crying.”
“How are you two even friends?”
“Because she is the kindest and most forgiving person I know. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help. Get her over here in an hour.”
—---------------------------
“Sarah, couldn’t you just have waited for John B to get back to” You words trailed off as you spotted the buttercups on the table beside a plastic wrapping with a candy bracelet inside. You started to smile. “JJ” you said and shook your head.
“He feels awful.”
“I can see that.” You say as you put the bracelet on your wrist.
“What’s with the candy and flowers?”
“JJ made me cry one time in second grade and to make up for it he brought me flowers and jewelry. Only the jewelry was the candy kind. He had said that from movies he learned that if you make a girl mad or sad you bring her candy and flowers and we were kids so.” You lift your arm to show the candy bracelet and shrug.
“That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.”
You blush, “Yeah, JJ can be really sweet when he wants to be. Where is he?”
You follow Sarah’s finger to the dock out back to see him fishing and you head outside.
“You’re forgiven.” You say as you approach the blonde boy.
“You didn’t even let me officially apologize yet.”
“I got the flowers and candy.”
“Jewelry. Only the finest for my best girl.” He smirks and you blush. “I am really sorry though. I didn’t mean to let out all my frustration on you.”
“It's alright JJ, seriously.”
“Well get to eating the candy then. You know the rule- we’re only over it once all the candy is gone.Then we can go back to being us.” He gives you that full JJ smile and you do as he instructs and eat the candy.
Sarah had been watching you two from the window of the chateau when John B appeared. “How are they not dating?”
John B wraps his arms around Sarah and joins in on watching you two joking and laughing from afar. He shrugs, “No pogue-on-pogue macking.” Sarah scoffs, “That is the dumbest rule and they are perfect for each other.”
John B sees the glimmer in Sarah’s eye, “you’re not thinking of playing matchmaker are you?”
“It’s not matchmaker if they’re already matched. They just need a push.” She replies innocently.
#jj maybank#jj mayback x reader#jj mayback imagine#outerbanks#outer banks#sarah cameron#john b routledge#pope heyward#kie carrera#outerbanks imagine#rafe cameron#topper thornton
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on the pitch - mason mount
in which mason clashes with your ex boyfriend during a game
sorry to jesse for making him a prick
this one’s for my bff @wintersoldierwhore i prioritised this over my uni work and it still took me forever to finish i’m so sorry but i think this is the longest fic i’ve ever written so i hope it’s good
Mason was dreading the Man U game more than he probably should have been and it had a lot to do with a certain number 14 who was currently a few feet behind him in the tunnel.
You'd briefly dated Jesse before you'd met Mason, a short but very public relationship that the media had no qualms about reminding everyone about. It wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't for the fact you and Jesse had remained friends after the break up and often ended up at the same parties and events due to being friends with pretty much the same group of people.
Mason was never usually the jealous type, he trusted you and he knew how you felt about him, it was clear to pretty much everyone just how in love with him you were. But Jesse pushed his buttons, he knew exactly what to do to get under his skin and Mason could never get a handle on his emotions when it happened.
His anger had been simmering just below boiling point for the past two days since the two of you had attended a party that Jesse just so happened to be at, the other boy flirting with you at every chance he got. Mason knew he did it on purpose, it was always the same, he'd ignore you most of the night but then when Mason went off to get a drink or go to the toilet Jesse would find his way to you, hands lingering in places they didn't need to be.
That party had been exactly the same.
The two of you had arrived pretty late into the night having been for a meal first but the party was still pretty much in full swing, your friends waving at you and shouting you over the second you'd walked in the door. Your fingers had slipped through Mason's, palm settling comfortably against his.
"Stay for a bit and then we can make an excuse that someone broke into your house." You pushed onto your tip toes to mumble in his ear and his laugh made the loose strands of your hair flutter.
"You're a terrible friend."
"Stop pretending you want to be here." You nudged your shoulder against his arm and his lips tilted into a soft grin. You led him over to your small group of friends, fingers sliding from his as Hannah pulled you into a hug.
"You're late." She practically had to yell in your ear because of how loud the music in the house was and you cringed away from her.
"Date night." Was your reply and Hannah's gaze slid from you to where Mason hovered behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets.
"Oh."
"What?"
"Jesse is here." That made your boyfriend scoff and your stomach dropped at the prospect of him having yet another tiff with your ex, especially just days before their teams were set to play against each other.
"Of course he is." You sighed, sinking back into Mason so you could wrap your arm around his waist, other hand patting against his stomach.
"The house is crowded, we won't even see him." You reassured him, lips pressing a line of soft kisses across his jaw. You felt Mason's arm drop over your shoulder.
"I feel like he's everywhere."
"Mase, it's fine just please don't get into anything with him." He mumbled something unintelligible into your hair and you knew he wasn't at all happy anymore. You squeezed him slightly. "I promise we won't be here long." You felt his chest rise and fall.
"It's fine, we've had a great night and I'm the one who gets to be with you tonight, I'm not letting him ruin it." He kissed the top of your head, thumb lightly tapping against your cheek.
"Where is Alec?" You asked, neck craning so you could look for the host and reason for the party over Mason's shoulder. Hannah waved briefly toward the living room.
"He was in there somewhere, think he said he was going to play beer pong." This got Mason's attention and the second he dipped his head you knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Wanna show off our skills?" You grinned and nodded your head, excusing yourself from you friends so Mason could lead you through the house in search of the beer pong table. It was safe to say that you and Mason were a pretty unbeatable team when it came to beer pong. Whenever he invited you to parties with his friends and there was a table you always found yourselves stuck to it, people complaining at the end of the night that you'd somehow cheated.
As Hannah had said Alec was standing at a beer pong table, ball in between his fingers, an intense look of concentration on his face. You watched in amusement as he kissed the ball before sending it sailing straight into the last cup on the other side of the table. A yell of triumph filled the room along with the shouts and laughter of Alec’s friends. You shook your head, smile climbing across your face.
“See you’ve been brushing up on your game.” At the sound of your voice Alec spun around, frown turning into a grin when he ambled over and pulled you into a hug. You and Alec had met a uni a little over two years ago and he was the reason you’d met Jesse, hence why the two of you often ended up at the same places.
“(Y/N)! I thought you wouldn’t come.” He patted the top of your head like a dog before his gaze ran to Mason and he lifted his fist. “Mason, hey man. Great game the other night, you were amazing. That assist was clean as fuck, bro.” You frowned, stepping in front of Mason and lightly whacking the back of your hand against your friends stomach.
“Stop flirting with my boyfriend. We wanna play you.” You felt Mason’s hands slide against your hips as you nodded towards the beer pong, Alec’s loud groan doing wonders for your ego.
“Come on, don’t let me lose at my own party.”
Two rounds of beer pong later you and Mason were most definitely going to enter your skills into a record book because there was no way anyone was beating you any time soon. Alec was sulking on the other side of the table, lips turned in a pout that made you smirk. Mason’s lips pressed against the shell of your ear.
“Need to pee, darling, be back in a few minutes.” You nodded, pressing a soft kiss against his mouth before he disappeared into the crowd, your gaze turning back to Alec.
“Do you two practice at home? Is this like a weird form of foreplay for you?” You rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your own cup of vodka.
“Don’t be gross. We just have skills.” You suddenly felt a pair of hands at your waist and frowned, turning to ask your boyfriend why he was back so fast but your eyes instead landed on your ex.
“I thought I heard someone mention your name.” Jesse grinned down at you, leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek.
“Jesse.”
“Hi, (Y/N).” You caught Alec’s glare out of the corner of your eye as you gently pushed Jesse’s hands off you, sending him a small smile.
“How are you?” You asked, attention turning back to the table.
“I’m good, better now I’ve seen you.” Your fingers tensed around your cup, eyes darting over to Alec who was currently sending warning looks towards his friend. “Why are you playing alone? Need a partner?”
“No, Mason went to the toilet.”
“You brought him here?”
“Of course I did. Go on, Alec, it’s your go.” You nodded towards the ball settled at his end of the table.
“What about Mason?”
“He’ll be back in a minute, we’ll do one on one, it’ll be fine.” You felt Jesse’s hand settle dangerously low on your back.
“I’ll fill in, me and Mason are good at taking over for each other.” You frowned at the obvious double meaning behind that but Jesse was already shrugging his jacket off and settling in beside you. “See who’s the better partner, (Y/N).”
Mason was cornered as he left the upstairs bathroom by two drunk guys asking him to sign their chests and he was too surprised by the way they’d jumped out at him to even argue with them that they’d made him use sharpy. He was making his way down the stairs, careful to avoid the weirdly aligned bottles on the middle step but stopped when he was almost at the bottom, glare immediately forming. He’d left you for five fucking minutes and Jesse had still managed to worm his way to you.
Mason stood on the stairs, stomach turning as he watched Jesse lean in to you, fingers sliding over your back, far lower than they needed to be. You nodded at something he said and plucked the ball from his fingers before taking your shot, landing it just like always. That twist of jealousy had turned to anger when Jesse’s eyes slipped to your slightly exposed boobs, smirk pulling at his mouth.
He’d leant in again, lips brushing your ear, hand once again on your back. Whatever he’d said had made you laugh, hand shoving playfully at his shoulder and it had been like a bucket of ice over Mason’s head, his eyes narrowing as he suddenly started pushing his way over to you.
“You can take your hands off my girlfriend, Lingard.” Your head snapped up at the sound of Mason’s voice and Jesse stepped back raising his hands in the air in mock peace.
“Just being friendly.”
“Yeah maybe a bit too much.” Mason dropped his gaze to yours, jaw tight in a way that made you certain he was pissed off. “We’re leaving.” His voice was hard and he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.
“So soon? But I was just having fun with (Y/N), we’re great beer pong partners too y’know.” Jesse’s lips tilted into a teasing smirk and you sighed heavily, frowning in his direction.
“Stop being like that.” You told him, dropping your cup against the table and reaching out for Mason’s arm. “Take me home?” You mumbled, fingers squeezing his bicep.
“We used to play together all the time, did she tell you how good I am with my hands?”
“Jesse!”
“What the fuck, man?”
“I swear to God, Lingard.” Mason tried to move forward but you pressed your hands against his chest.
“Take me home.” Your voice was just as hard as Mason’s was but his gaze was still locked on Jesse’s anger clearly radiating from him.
“Go home, Mount, it’s passed your bedtime now anyway.” You threw a glare over your shoulder at the other boy, gently pushing Mason through the little crowd of people who’d gathered.
“You’re being a dick.”
“Sorry, princess, not my fault your boyfriend’s so territorial.” Alec came up behind Jesse, hand gripping his shoulder.
“Behave man, why do you always do this?”
“See you on pitch, Mase.” Was the last thing you heard before you were practically shoving a seething Mason through the house and towards the front door. He exploded the second the door shut behind you.
“God, I’m so fucking sick of him and his shit!”
“Mason.”
“It’s every single time, (Y/N)! He’s always fucking there, touching you and giving your these flirty eyes. We can’t go anywhere without him somehow popping up and causing a scene.” Mason was walking slightly ahead of you and you practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides, hand gripping his arm to get him to slow down.
“He does it because he knows it annoys you. He’s winding you up.”
“Of course it annoys me. He’s always touching you and flirting with you right in front of my face, why wouldn’t that annoy me?” You pulled him to a stop, hands settling against his arms, but he avoided your gaze, eyes darting along the row of houses behind you.
“Look at me.” He ignored you, eyebrows drawing together. “Mason.” You took his chin between your fingers, turning his head to face you, watching as his eyes soften slightly when they landed on you. You pressed a kiss against his lips. “Nothing I ever felt for Jesse or had with him will ever live up to what I feel for you. I am so completely in love with you and only you. It doesn’t matter how hard Jesse tries to flirt with me, he’s not you and he never will be. I chose you. I always will.”
Mason’s gaze softened completely and his lips tilted into that smile you adored so much. You brushed your thumb over his bottom lip and he pressed a light kiss against the pad of it.
“I love you too. It’s just..” He let out a sigh, hands slipping over your waist. “I hate seeing other boys touch you. You’re fucking gorgeous, (Y/N), and I see how people look at you and I see how he looks at you and sometimes I think you might want him again.”
“I don’t. We broke up for a reason, Mason. And seeing the way he treats you I’d never go back to him.” You squeezed his hand with your free hand, lips tilting into a smile. “You are pretty hot when you’re jealous, though.” Mason laughed and nudged his nose against yours.
“I don’t mean to get so protective.”
“I get why you do. Jesse can be a prick.” You watched the deep sigh he let out, fingers brushing your hair out of your face.
“Saturday’s game is gonna be awful.” Your stomach sank slightly at the thought of the match because you knew Jesse was going to try and bait Mason as much as he could.
“But I’ll be there, wearing your shirt, cheering your name, going home to sleep in your bed. So who’s the real winner?”
“Oh most definitely me.”
So that party was the exact reason that Mason felt like he wanted to launch the ball at someone’s head rather than into the back of the net and he’d drilled his teammates with the idea that they most certainly couldn’t lose this match. He wouldn’t give Jesse the satisfaction.
Mason was walking towards his position on the field, head down as he worked on getting himself into game mode when someone shoved against his shoulder.
“Tell (Y/N) I said hi, she’s always so active after games.” Jesse grinned as he jogged backwards towards his own position, Mason’s glare almost capable of burning a whole through his ppposition. There was absolutely no way that Jesse was getting anywhere near a goal today.
You were sat beside Mason’s family for the game, eyes trained on your boyfriend who was clearly furious, sweat beading on his forehead, that glare never once leaving his face. You’d seen Jesse barge into him and you knew he’d said something to piss Mason off because his entire body had gone rigid and you caught Kai shouting over to him.
The game started out pretty normal, Mason’s focus seemingly only on the game but then Jesse had randomly come from no where when Mason was running with the ball, crashing into his back before taking off with the ball as Mason stumbled. The crowd booed and you let out a sigh, eyes trained on Mason as he angrily spat at the ground.
You knew you shouldn’t be concentrating on the fact that Mason looked so good when he was angry but you really couldn’t help yourself, especially when he spat so cleanly on the grass. Never once did the glower fall from his face and you noticed that all of his movements were more aggressive than usual.
“What’s going on with him?” Debbie asked, clearly having caught on to the anger bouncing off her son. You shrugged your shoulders, not really wanting to tell her about the almost altercation at the party.
When the second half rolled around and the score was still a clean sheet both ways, even the crowd started to notice the tension on the pitch, a very different atmosphere to just a normal game. You heard a few fans mumbling about Mason on your way back from the toilet, people clearly questioning why he was so angry today. It was clear even to them that someone on the pitch was riling him up.
The big moment however happened during a Chelsea corner in the last five minutes. As though you could sense something was about to happen your stomach had plummeted, gaze set firmly on Mason’s figure at the far end of the pitch, his body wedged between a sea of red.
You caught the subtle shove Jesse gave him and the way both Mason and Kai’s heads whipped around to glare at him. You were too far away to make out much else but suddenly the ball was being launched into the box, Kai’s head whacking it straight into the net but during the commotion Jesse’s elbow had landed squarely against Mason’s nose. Within seconds the box was full of shoving and shouting as opposed to what should have been a celebration.
You were out of your seat, neck craning as you tried to get a better look but all you could see was both teams surrounding a clearly arguing Mason and Jesse. The stadium erupted with chatter, fans around you obviously confused over what had just happened.
“Think Mount’s broken his nose.” You heard someone say and your stomach twisted even more at the thought that Mason was hurt because of something to do with you. Mason’s parents were also on their feet, confusion and worry etched on to their faces.
It took a few minutes but the ref and the teams finally managed to settle most of the commotion and and your heart slammed into your chest when you saw Mason walking back towards the centre of the pitch, head tilted back as he held his dripping nose. The ref held his yellow card up in both Mason and Jesse’s direction, clearly thinking the elbow to the face had been an accident while challenging for the ball.
Mason looked beyond furious at that point, eyes basically shooting daggers at Jesse who was looking rather smug with himself. The tensions had risen dramatically after the goal, Man U clearly wanting to pull back but Chelsea’s defence were having none of it. Mason and Jesse kept well away from each other for the last remaining minutes but you didn’t miss the occasional mouthed words on Jesse’s part.
As soon as the whistle blew for full time you were out of your seat and making a straight beeline for the pitch. The Chelsea fans were in obvious uproar, the players on the pitch feeling pretty much the same but Mason was focused entirely on getting away from Jesse and finding you. He met you at the tunnel, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed with obvious anger, dried blood staining his hands and shirt.
“Mase,” His name had barely left your lips before he was kissing you, all of his anger releasing through that one action. His grip was tight on your jaw, fingers tilting your head back as you let out a startled gasp against his mouth. Your hands slid over his sides, mouth opening so he could swipe his tongue over yours.
You knew you were in clear sight of everyone, Jesse included, but you felt like that was Mason’s intention. This felt like his declaration, his statement to everyone that that you were his and only his. You knew he wanted Jesse to see, to know that you were there for him, MOUNT 19 in clear letters on your back.
You were both breathless when you finally pulled away and your gaze immediately went to Mason’s nose, finger tentatively touching it.
“He hurt you.”
“Just elbowed me. Good job it wasn’t my eye otherwise I’d have gone blind.” Mason tried to joke but you knew he was beyond fuming inside.
“What did he say to you?” He shook his head, fingers tangling in your hair so he could pull you in for another kiss. You ducked his lips with a frown. “What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s just a dickhead.”
“Mason, you were pissed off the entire game. I saw him say something to you before it started.”
“(Y/N), it was nothing okay? He was just trying to get under my skin but it doesn’t matter because you’re here.” You tilted your head at him.
“Where else would I be?”
“Forget it.” He slid his mouth back over yours, effectively making you lose your train of thought with the soft strokes of his tongue. “Just wanna go home, stay with me tonight?” You nodded with a kiss to his cheek.
Mason was still clearly angry and you weren’t sure what would calm him down, whatever Jesse had said had clearly riled him up beyond measure. You kissed the crease between his eyebrows trying to keep his attention on you as Jesse made his way through the tunnel, glare identical to Mason’s on his face. You don’t see why he was pissed, he’s not the one who got a bloody nose. Mason caught sight of him disappearing into the corridor and grumbled.
“I fucking hate him.” He complained, fingers picking at a flake of dried blood on the back of his hand. You slid your fingers over his and squeezed his hand.
“If it’s any consolation I think your fans will have a field day with how good you looked out there. Man of the match for sure.” You watched a little smile tug at his lips.
“Well that’s one good thing then yeah?
“Definitely.”
#england nt#chelsea fc#football#football imagine#money mase#mason mount#mason mount fluff#mason mount fanfic#mason mount one shot#mason mount fic#mason mount blurbs#mason mount blurb#mason mount imagines#mason mount imagine#mason mount x reader
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Title: Rumor Has It {21}*
Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler
Warning: Cursing, ANGST, Plot, Fluff, Mildly NSFW, Violence, Blood, Death, Verbal mention of Rape, Potentially Triggering Discussion
Words: 6.2k
Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?
**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.
NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.
**Loosely Edited/Proofread**
Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Uriah-
You pushed off of him to an upright position, not sure you’d heard him right. “Say what!?”
Chris sat up as well and leaned on the headboard.
“Yeah. Abel, the detective, found that the video was doctored. It was spliced together using so many different audio clips dating back to when Knives Out was announced. She had someone doctor it to make it seem like it was me, or recent and current me.”
You were ready to claw her eyes out. “That bitch!”
Chris sighed. “That’s not it,” he began. He reached for your hand and brought you closer. You swung your leg over his lap and sat on his thighs, giving him your undivided attention.
“Remember the picture of her in the sweater?”
Clenching your jaw, you nodded. “The one from your room?”
He nodded. “You’re right—it was from my room.”
You gaped at him, ready to lunge at him, but you stopped yourself.
“She snuck in, stripped down, and posted it. Abel was able to get security footage from the hotel. She bribed one of the housekeeping staff. They let her in, and it was at the same time I was on call for press. The timestamp shows it. I’m thinking she knew it would set you off and create problems between us.”
You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This was insane. Why would someone go to these lengths?
“Wow.” You rubbed your forehead, trying to wrap your head around everything. Not only were you still grappling with everything that happened since the accident, including things with Christiano, but the babies and Chris’s downward spiral, but now this. “Oh my god.”
“The investigator uncovered a video from the hotel—and so much more.” Chris released a heavy breath then took your hand. “It all points to her, Riah.”
His fingers traced imaginary patterns on my hand and along the length of my fingers.
“And the text messages?” You couldn’t help yourself. Chris looked up from your hand and to your waiting eyes. The look on his face was an inquisitive one. “The ones between you and her about us,” you finished.
There was no look of shock; he just looked resolved, as if he somehow knew that you knew.
“How do you know about that?”
“I did something crazy,” you began before pausing to find the right way to explain.
It only took a few moments to forego any strategic plan and lay it out. So that is what you did. You explained your mission impossible operation with Kizzy and Zora a few weeks ago at Chris’s press junket. You explained being in the elevator to witness Ana’s blatant flirting. You explained, taking her purse and going through her phone to find out how devious she was. By the time you finished, the silence in the room was deafening. Chris hadn’t moved or spoken since you began. The look on his face was so masked and neutral that you couldn’t tell if he was on the brink of an angry outburst or a disappointed one.
Suddenly Chris snorted loudly then laughed obnoxiously, clapping his free hand across his chest. The laugh went on so long to the same caliber that you couldn’t help but join in. So the two of you sat there laughing together for several long minutes. Once both of you were laughed out, you just stared at each other.
“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Chris started first, continuing to rub your hand. “I knew who I married.”
He sighed and shook his head. That was when you saw the remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you about it all, but I didn’t want to hurt you or have you doubt me.”
Chris clenched his jaw then crinkled his brow. “In hindsight, I know it looked really suspicious. There are so many things I see now that I didn’t then. I shouldn’t have even had those text exchanges. It’s not her place to know anything small or not about our marriage. Jesus.” Chris took his hand away then raked it through his hair before locking his hands behind his neck—one of his frustrated ticks. His eyes were dropped to your thighs, and that’s where they remained.
“I’m sorry, Riah.”
His voice sounded clouded, and that was the only indication you needed to know his emotions were getting the better of him.
“I’ve been so stupid. So stupid,” he choked out.
“Baby.” You slid closer to him, grabbing his elbows to pull them down to rest on top of your thighs. “Look at me.”
You raised his chin so he was looking into your eyes. His tears stained his cheeks and welled his eyes. You’d wanted him to see the error of his ways so many times. You’d wished he could see it your way and understand, and now that he did, you should have felt vindicated, but you didn’t. There really were no winners when the family feuds.
Dropping your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled his scent.
“I’m sorry, dragonfly,” Chris whispered, wrapping his arms around you holding you close. “So sorry.”
“Baby���look at me.”
He pulled back enough for you to peer into his eyes. As you caressed his cheek, you spoke.
“It’s okay. I—you--,” you sighed, then traced your thumb across his bottom lip. “I understand. There has been so much—pain, so much sorries and--.” Again you stopped for a few seconds.
“No more,” you finished.
Chris slowly nodded his head, grasping your meaning. He then kissed your thumb and nuzzled his bearded jaw into your palm. Though you wanted to move on, there was one more burning question, one more thing you had to know. Nibbling your bottom lip, you found your courage.
“Were—were you tempted?”
You couldn't look at him, so you kept your head down.
“What? Tempted? To do what?”
Meeting his eyes, you swallowed, then continued.
“Cheat,” you whispered.
Chris sat up straight, and he cupped your face within his large hands. His eyebrows were crooked with the intense, take me serious look he always got when he was about to say something important.
“Look at me. Never.”
You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you.
“Listen and hear me, Uriah, never, ever. I would never. I told you I married you for a reason. I had a plan. Forever and a day, Uriah. You promised me forever and a day, and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”
Fighting the tears, you scoffed. “You were a jackass. When I tell you a woman wants you, don’t doubt me.”
Chris smiled and nodded. “I was. Never again. We don’t be here again. I’m going to be Pence from now on. You must be present at all times, or I’m not alone with any women.”
You busted out laughing, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the heaviness of the last few weeks. It felt almost normal, like the two of you were on your way. Chris kissed you once, then twice before resting his forehead to yours.
“We have to nail her ass to the wall,” you declared, staring into his eyes.
“Oh, definitely. What did you have in mind, Mrs. Evans?”
“You didn’t file the papers?”
Chris scoffed, then rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re gonna have to try harder than divorce papers to get rid of me, Dragonfly.”
Again you smiled. “So whatever I want, you won’t be the voice of sympathy?”
“Whatever you want, kitten,” Chris replied, kissing the tip of your nose, making your belly flutter in the process.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m so happy that you’re okay, sweetheart,” your mother said as she pulled you into a group hug with your father.
“I’ll be okay, mom.”
Your father cupped your cheek, taking the time to inspect your face. You knew he wasn’t looking for physical harm. He was realizing how close he’d come to losing you, how he’d failed you. You could tell. When Chris had called them to update them, they instantly wanted to hear your voice. When they did, they broke, and that breaking turned to shattered when everything came out.
You’d spent two hours on the phone with them, listening to them apologize and blame themselves for putting so much trust in Christiano. They felt horrible for never suspecting that he would stoop so low. They begged you not to hate them, begged you to forgive them. It was easy to promise them you weren't angry because you understood. You didn’t blame them or hold a grudge for them not doing more. They had no idea who Christiano really was—you didn’t either. The only one who ever saw him for who he was, was Chris.
“I’m so sorry, Uriah. As your father, I should have done more to keep you away from him.”
“Daddy, don’t. There is nothing you could have done. You did the best with what the information you had—you all did,” you assured, looking around at the faces of everyone you loved, both your family and Chris’s.
Lisa approached and pulled you into another hug. You could feel her tears.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
“I am so happy that you are.” Her hand dropped to your bump, and she smiled. “That you all are.”
Just like that, the waterworks started again, and everyone huddled around you, everyone but Chris, who was standing back most likely watching with a cheesy smile on his face. When they released you, your guess was correct. Chris smiled, then winked at you.
“So how are we getting those sons of bitches?”
All eyes snapped to Zora, who looked as if she was ready to rip out a heart and eat it.
“Down girl—Chris has already laid the groundwork,” you said.
“And it was easy, just play into that colossal ego of his,” Chris finished, kissing my temple.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Chris-
MSG Love Of My Life: Remember, don’t let him goad you. He’s going to try.
He scoffed; it was an understatement.
MSG: I’m good. He can’t get me to because I have what he doesn’t, and I know something he doesn’t.
MSG Love Of My Life: You do have me. Forever and a day, my love. <Kiss emoji, heart emoji>
MSG: You should have let me go with you. I don’t like you’re alone.
MSG Love Of My Life: I’m not alone. I have my parents, Kizzy, Zora, your sisters, your mom, our lawyers. I am far from alone.
MSG: You know what I mean.
MSG Love Of My Life: I don’t think I could relive it all with you next to me anyway. It’s better this way. I’ll see you soon. Remember what I said. <Kiss>
He sighed and tried to push aside the guilt he felt. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand. You’d gone through too much alone, and all he wanted to do now was protect you.
MSG Scott: Need me to come up?
MSG: Nah, I can handle this.
MSG Scott: Okay.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared out over the canyons and LA down below. It was a beautiful sight, one he liked a lot but not better than the changing leaves of Autumn in Massachusetts. He would never choose LA over them. It was, however, a good change of pace, but it staled quickly. Standing here, it was easy to forget the chaos of the last few months. Easy to forget that merely days ago, he’d thought his life was over, and it would never be the same.
“I can’t believe you suggested this. What, you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s cool; I don’t mind helping you with that.”
The sound of his voice was enough to make him want to turn around swinging, then drag him to the edge and kick him off Sparta style. He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he’d done to you. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist, and slowly released a breath. Once he was sure he had some sort of control over his reflexes, he turned. Christiano looked as smug as ever. He’d never wanted to take a life, but right now, right here, he thought of at least ten ways in under one minute. They all involved pain.
“So, what air is there to clear?”
He clenched his jaw before he spoke.
“She’s still my wife.”
“Ah, ah, ah, according to those divorce papers she sent over, even that is limited time. Face it man; you’ve lost. I’ve won. I always win. I always get what I want, no matter what. It’s hilarious to me that you thought swooping into her life like that and marrying her on a whim would have changed things. Uriah has always been mine. She was always meant to be mine.”
His hatred for the man in front of him was already at toxic levels. He had no idea how it was possible for it to increase. Staring at him and hearing the venom he just spewed did the trick.
“So, this is just a game to you? This is her life—this is our life. All of this is for what?”
“To win what’s rightfully mine. I’m Christiano White. I get what I want when I want it, and that includes women. No one takes what’s mine. No one, and she’s mine!”
The smugness on his face was the most upsetting thing. He didn’t care hearing him profess fake ownership. He didn’t even care that Christiano thought he had so much privilege that he would get away with his insane plane. Even the thought that him being Christiano White meant jack shit. What really got to him was the fact he’d done this to prove some stupid, sick point. He’d played with his life, your life, and the life of his children for the sake of winning. He stepped to Christiano, ready to push his ass off the cliff, but before he touched him, the thought of you and those innocent babies flashed into his mind. There was no way he’d do this to you guys, he thought.
Gathering some calm, he stepped back. Christiano chuckled.
“Thay’s right. Recognize when you’ve lost, and oh, have you lost. Let me tell you how bad you’ve lost. She was in my bed, letting me touch her, kiss her, please her. She shouted my name, over and over. Not yours.”
He scoffed. “You sure? My name’s Chris. Did she say, Christiano?”
The smirk on Christiano’s face slipped, and rage replaced it. It was a small piece of satisfaction, but it was worth it, especially since he knew for a fact you’d called his name—Chris and not the latter. Though your brain didn’t remember him, your subconscious did, your heart did, your soul did. There was no room for anyone else. He nearly laughed in Christiano’s face because it had taken him this long to grasp that fully. There had only ever been you and him.
“You only have yourself to blame. Who would dare cheat on Uriah? Who would think to replace a diamond with a pebble? You’re an idiot,” Christiano jabbed before he laughed out. “Don’t worry, once we’re married, things will be better for her.”
“How do you plan on getting married if we’re still legally married?”
For the second time, the smile Christiano wore slipped. He looked around as if he expected someone to come out.
“For now,” Christiano scoffed, rolling his eyes.
He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you walking up behind Christiano. Catching on, he spun around.
“Babe, what’re—what’re you doing here? I thought we were meeting tonight.”
Christiano approached you with his arms out, but you walked past him to his waiting arms instead. Once he wrapped his arm around your waist, you kissed his lips, then turned to Christiano, who looked confused, angry, and a few other emotions he most likely hadn’t put together yet.
“For always,” you said.
“What the fuck!”
“Surprise,” he said, slipping his hand down to your hip. Christiano’s eyes dropped to his hand before he clenched his jaw. The annoyance from minutes ago was worth it.
“What was the plan, Christiano? It’s bigamy to be married to two people at once. Our marriage would have been null in void. What was the goal!?”
Christiano took a step to you, making him grip your hip tighter, ready to get in between you.
“I’m better than him. I’m richer, I look better, and I’m better in bed. Admit it, Riah. I don’t lose to men like him. I wasn’t done with you,” Christiano confessed with bitterness in his voice.
You pulled from him, taking a step to Christiano. “So you decided to turn me into a pawn! You decided to lie to me, manipulate me and—rape me?!”
“Shut up, I didn’t--,” he began before you cut him off.
“Yes, you did! I was not of sound mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even know who I was. You knew. You fucking knew, and you used that and stole from me. Admit it!”
Sensing things were about to go south, he stepped between the two of you, pulling back to a safe distance.
“That’s right, fuck it! Yes, I did all of that. I’ll admit it. Yes, I manipulated you to get what I wanted. I couldn’t lose to this dick. I couldn’t let you go. I wouldn’t. I did what was necessary. I took what was mine, and I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”
That was all he could stomach before he turned and decked him with all the force he possessed. Christiano dropped to the dirt and writhed for a few moments before he slowly stood laughing like a lunatic with the blood dripping from his nose.
“You’re insane. You tried to kill my children because I ended things and found better?”
“There is no better than me!”
He spread his arms out, not caring where the blood that spewed from him went. “Uriah, you know you love me. You loved the feel of a real man between your legs. Just tell him.”
Glancing at you, he realized you were crying now.
“I can’t believe you’d do this to me. I can’t believe you’d hurt me this way.”
He wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you in some way. Looking back at Christiano, he was in time to see him charging toward him. He quickly moved you out of the way and threw a punch that connected with Christiano’s jaw. Instead of going down, Christiano lunged at him, gripping him around his waist, trying to bring him down to the ground. He almost laughed. Sending his knee into his gut, he spun and put Christiano in a chokehold keeping him there.
It was then a group of police officers came running toward them.
“Look at that. You lost, not just once, but twice and now—a third.”
He wanted to snap his neck, and thinking of everything he’d put them through, he almost did. Two officers ran up to him, both of them taking Christiano by his arms.
“We’ve got it from here.”
Reluctantly he let Christiano go and allowed the law to take the wheel. Going to you, he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears.
“I’m here.”
You hugged him, and he just held you. There was no need for words.
-That Night-
“I love you.”
Those words were like music to his ears. There was a time he didn’t think he’d ever hear them again. Gently pulling your head back, he peered into your eyes while caressing your cheek. He loved seeing you like this with your hair free, hovered over him, with the moon as your backdrop.
“I love you more,” he whispered.
“Forever and a day?”
He smiled, remembering your promises, and pressed his forehead to yours. “Forever and a day, dragonfly.”
You kissed him softly, taking the time to tease his lips, nibbling his bottom one before burying your face in the crook of his neck as you rocked against him, sending him higher and higher until he felt as if his soul left his body.
“Uriah!”
It felt like he was no longer in his body but instead hovering overhead like a fly watching your bodies entangled together. There was no other sight he loved as much. You rolled off of him and found your place beside him, resting your head on his chest, right over his heart. You both sighed.
“After this is done, let’s go back to Massachusetts full time,” you quietly said after a few minutes.
“What?” he turned to look at you, needing to see if you meant it.
“Do you mean that?”
“Yeah. I never wanted to raise kids in LA, and you know I love Massachusetts. Let’s have these babies in the house you built for us,” you added.
He couldn’t believe his ears. It wasn’t that you’d ever expressed not wanting to live in Massachusetts full time; it was that he knew how much of your career was still in LA. With him, he was spending less and less time here, but you, it seemed it was more and more.
“How is that going to work with your career?”
You rolled slightly onto your side, then trailed your hand across his chest down his stomach to rest nonchalantly atop his manhood. Groaning, he wrapped one of his arms under his head.
“I’m taking a few years off.”
The shock had his junk jumping in your hand, making a wide smile spread across your face. “Wow, talk about talent,” you teased.
He rolled you onto your back and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your spread thighs.
“Don’t play with me, Mrs. Evans.”
You smiled widely as you fondled him with one hand. Not being strong enough to have this conversation while you did that, he grabbed your hand and pressed it over your head, gripping you at your wrist.
“No fair,” you pouted.
“Say that again.”
You smiled, clearly loving that fact he was hanging by a flimsy piece of thread.
“I said I’m taking a few years off.”
He couldn’t stop his grin. “Really?”
“Yeah. What do you think? Would you want that?”
“You’re kidding. Of course, yes! It would be just the two of us day in, day out. No movie sets, no studio time, no photoshoots.”
“Eh-em, excuse you. You mean just the five of us,” you corrected.
It didn’t take him long to get it. You, him, babies, and Dodger.
“I love you, Mrs. Evans.”
“I love you, Mr. Evans.”
You kissed him once, then twice before your hands roamed down his back to grip his ass, making him moan and chuckle at the same time. He’d missed this and you.
“Hang on, baby; I gotta--,” he began.
“Ah, that after nut pee calls, huh. Fine. Go ahead. I'll just be here, pregnant and horny.”
He snorted and rolled off of you before hurrying to the bathroom.
“Oh, I’m coming back, cause—that sounds like a very pressing situation that needs my undivided attention.”
You giggled as he dipped into the bathroom. He hurried to the toilet and tried his best to aim properly but an erection and peeing straight made for a tricky situation. Once he’d gotten the hang of it and the common sense to curve his body a little, he was good and groaned long and loud as he relieved himself. The silence in the bathroom gave him the time to fully react to the prospect of moving back to Massachusetts full time for the next few years. He couldn’t wait. Life was about to change for the better.
Once finished, he flushed and washed his hands before stepping back into the room. He expected you to be lying on the bed, waiting for him, but the bed was empty. Thinking you might have found your way to the kitchen for a snack, he pulled his pajama pants off the floor and pulled them on before he walked out of the bedroom. He’d recently discovered that after sex, you craved something from the fridge. He walked down the hall leading to the staircase, but before he got there, a chill ran down his spine. It was this chill and almost like a psychic feeling that had him stop.
When he turned, there you stood in your pale pink kimono robe with Christiano behind you. His hand was around your neck, clasping it.
“What the--.” He made a move toward them, but Christiano pulled out a gun and pointed it to your stomach.
“I wouldn’t,” he began before he cocked the weapon. “Or I will pull this trigger, and there goes Evan Jr.”
Terror as he’d never felt before gripped his heart. “You wouldn’t risk her life.”
Christiano shoved the barrel of the gun more forcefully into your stomach, making you whimper loudly.
“Wouldn’t I? what’s the point of keeping her safe now? For her to end up with you? I think the fuck not!” Again he shoved the gun into you.
“Okay, hey, hey, stop. Don’t do this. Please.”
“Please?” Christiano snorted and pulled you more firmly against him. “Are you begging me finally? You’ve always been underneath me. I couldn’t understand why she would choose you over me. I’m better in every category.”
He nodded, with his hands raised.
“You’re right. You’re the better man, the better choice,” he agreed, deciding to play along and say whatever he wanted if it meant Uriah had a chance of getting away from him. He quickly tried to formulate a plan while he used his words to buy himself as much time as possible.
“I know! So why him, Uriah!?”
You remained quiet, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Answer me! You better answer me with the truth, or I swear I’ll pull this trigger.”
“Answer hi, Dragonfly. It’s okay. Forever and a day.”
You scrunched your face and watched fresh heartbreak wash over you. “I—I fell in love with him, Tino. My soul recognized his as my home. It could only ever be him,” you replied. He signaled to you using his eyes and slight movements of his head, and he hoped you understood them.
He watched Christiano squeeze your neck tighter and press the gun more persistently into you, and he said a silent prayer.
“Fine,” Christiano began. He saw the moment when it all changed for him, and his threats no longer were empty words. “If I can’t have you. No one can.”
“Now, Riah!”
You threw your head back, colliding yours with his in a vicious headbutt that sent Christiano staggering backward a few steps and you stumbling before falling to the floor. In the chaos, Christiano dropped the gun allowing him to leap forward for the gun. In seconds Christiano was on him, fighting him for it. He tried to pull it from his clutches while turning it away from him or Uriah, but there was no fury like a man who’d lost everything.
Christiano managed to wrangle the gun from his grasp and pointed it to Uriah. In the blink of an eye, he knew what had to be done—the only thing he could do. Locking eyes with you, he said the only thing that mattered.
“I love you.”
He then dove for Christiano tracking him into the banister railing with enough force that broke it, sending both of them over the edge and down two and a half stories to the hard marble floor beneath. He could hear your piercing scream right before they collided with the floor, but once they made impact, the gun went off, and again Uriah screamed.
“Chris!”
~~~~~~~~~
-Uriah-
It all had happened in such a way that it was in slow motion but sped up. You couldn’t register anything until it was all said and done. You scurried to the banister and looked down. Neither of them moved, and your heart stopped. Gasping, you tried to remind your brain to send the signal for you to breathe. After a few seconds, you coughed while trying to hurry down the stairs. The tears in your eyes made it difficult to see what was in front of you, so you stumbled down the stairs. If it weren’t for your gripping the railing as you descended, you were sure you would have tumbled.
Once down to them, you dropped to your knees beside them and pulled at Chris’s body. He wasn’t moving.
“Oh god, Chris!”
He didn’t respond, and his body felt like dead weight. Your tears flowed more freely as you managed to roll him off. Once you had, you were able to see that it was Christiano who was shot and not Chris. Relief filled you, and you shook him more forcefully.
“Chris! Wake up, please. Please don’t leave me. Chris!”
Suddenly he erupted into a fit of choughs before they died down.
“Why are you always shouting at me, woman!?”
You gasped again. “Oh my god! You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m okay. I think,” he informed while trying to sit up. He then began examining you.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
He then gripped his head as he groaned out, but it wasn’t long before he was moving toward you to pull you into his arms, not caring that he was covered in blood.
“Is he—is he dead?”
Chris leaned back to check Christiano’s pulse, then lowered his head. “Very dead.”
You clasped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. He—he tried--.”
Chris pulled you into him and hugged you tightly. “Come here. It’s okay.”
Somehow he managed to slide both of you from the body on the floor toward the wall. He held you tightly, then spoke.
“I don’t think I’ll call you crazy again after this.”
It was probably inappropriate, but you snorted then laughed, a laugh he joined in on. As suddenly as the laughter began, it ended.
“They’re crazy.”
���Bat shit,” Chris replied.
Any humor to be found in the situation was gone, and it turned into you crying in his shoulder, going through all the emotions from the entire night. There had been so much pain, so much destruction. You’d come close to losing everything more than once, and the culprit was lying dead on the floor before you. It was overwhelming, but somehow, you felt steeled to the fact that you’d just watched someone die.
You glanced over to Chris at the same moment he looked at you. He wiped the tears from your cheeks then spoke.
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He then lowered his lips to your forehead and held you close.
Ten minutes later, the sirens of the police, ambulance, and fire trucks could be heard as they surrounded your property. The officers instantly took yours and Chris’s statements and any evidence lying around to prove what the two of you were professing, including the security footage. The EMS workers quickly covered Christiano’s body with a sheet as they rolled him into a body bag then pushed the gurney out of the house. You barely registered anything. Chris did most of the talking, not leaving one thing out. When they asked you about the events of the night, you stuttered and quickly became frazzled as everything finally caught up to you. That was when the detective Chris hired suggested meeting at the police station to continue, which would allow him to reveal his findings in his investigation.
After a quick change, you were sitting in the passenger side of Chris’s car as he drove you to the precinct. Your mind raced a mile a minute, but your lips remained zipped. The feel of Chris’s hand on your thigh was your tangible evidence that this was reality and not some soap opera plot. When you arrived at the precinct, the detective in charge of the case questioned you from the very beginning to the night's events. You did your best to remain calm and emotionless and were surprised that you didn’t feel the shame you’d felt about the entire situation prior to this night.
When the detective revealed new information divulged to him, from the detective Chris hired, about Christiano and what he’d truly been up to and how deep his plans really went, you could hardly stomach it. He’d secured another property in Russia and planned to bring you there. The way the information was revealed, it seemed like he planned on keeping you captive there. Hearing that, you almost passed out. Chris, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill Christiano again.
The questioning took a full hour, and at the end of it, you were exhausted and ready to put this entire thing behind you after dealing with Ana. With Chris’s arm around your waist, you walked out of the detective’s office onto the precinct's open floor. A loud scream brought your attention to several officers pulling Ana through with her hands cuffed behind her back.
“I demand you let me go. Do you know who I am!? I swear to god, I will have your badge, and you’ll never be a fucking cop again!”
“Wow, the mouth on her,” one of the officers teased.
“To think we found her hot in that Bond movie,” another piped up.
“Fuck you!”
You and Chris approached, curious as to what was going on. You hadn’t expected to see her until tomorrow when you and Chris executed the second part of your plan of confronting her while recording it to release it to the world, showing everyone who and what she really was. It would have been a one-two hit that she wouldn’t recover from. Her career would have been over.
“It’s been a big night,” the detective who’d just interviewed you said, standing beside you.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why’s she here?”
“Your detective gave us plenty of information. By the way, impressive man, you should think about keeping him on your payroll. Anyway, we followed his leads, and it led right to her and her assistant, specifically her assistant’s car. This one took her assistant’s car and was the one behind the wheel when she ran into you. The traffic cams show it was an intentional hit.”
You saw red.
“What!”
“She tried to kill you,” Abel, the private detective, added, coming up beside Chris.
“What’s more, there were messages between her and Christiano White.”
Both yours and Chris’s heads spun to him to the police detective this time to find him nodding with a look on his face that said even he hadn’t encountered anything this bizarre before.
“They concocted this whole scheme together, beginning with the pictures of her in that eat shit sweater. This was set up with them. there is even evidence Christiano was poisoning you, Mrs. Evans.”
“Jesus,” Chris hissed.
You remained utterly silent and still letting Abel’s words fully process. It was a lot of information, but it was also vindication that you were in no shape or form crazy.
“Wh—what does all this mean?”
“It means she’s going to face a judge on a slew of charges that are quite serious. I can assure you both; there is no easy way of her getting out of any of this. No amount of money or connections will fix it. Her career is over,” the detective finished.
You both were speechless, and looking at Chris, he was too. You and Chris were led to somewhere you could sit for a few minutes to receive the paperwork for the night’s incident and the new information. While sitting, you used the time to catch your breath and wrap your head around everything. Neither of you could believe all you’d gone through. The more you thought about it, the more your confusion increased. One burning questioned remained. Why?
About ten minutes later, you and Chris were led toward the exit, but you caught sight of Ana to your right. You would have walked on, but the way she glared at you had you changing your mind in seconds. You let go of Chris’s hand and walked over to her.
“I have to know. Why? What was the point!?”
Ana bolted to her feet as if she planned to do something, but the officer behind her grabbed her arm, holding her to ensure she didn’t try anything. You weren’t worried.
“You don’t deserve anything you have. The fame, the popularity, and opportunities you don’t deserve any of it, especially Chris. He was supposed to be mine. That baby was supposed to be mine!”
You could hear the poison in her voice and see the sheer hatred for you shining brightly in her eyes. She truly meant this though she didn’t know one thing about you.
“You’re crazy as fuck. I hope it was worth it.” You reached back for Chris’s hand, knowing he was behind you. Lacing your fingers with his, you showed her all that her efforts had produced, then turned and began walking away.
“You low-grade black bitch!
In your head, you heard blaring sirens. The sound became so loud in a matter of seconds it had somewhat of a mind-altering effect. Chris released your hand as if he knew what was going to happen. You turned back to her and saw red.
“Oh I’ll show you how low grade this black bitch is!”
You ran to her, then tackled her to the floor. Once on top of her, you swung punch after punch, each slamming into her face. You didn’t care where they landed, didn’t care how hard you were hitting her either. There was a lesson she needed to learn, and the only way to learn it was getting her ass beat the right way—the black way. You felt hands trying to pull you off of her, but you were not having it. You held on to her hair, so when they tried to move you, they really helped you bald the bitch.
“See, I never learned to share when I was young! I’m—an—only—child!” With each enunciated word, you emphasized it with a punch. Ana’s screams were loud, but they weren’t louder than those alarms still sounding off in your head. Though she tried to fight back, it was futile, though.
“Learn this bitch! Don’t,” you dropped a punch to her nose. “Touch,” you slapped her with your open hand. “What,” you slapped her again, this time with the back of your hand. “is mine!”
From then, no one else tried to pull you off of her. You suspected it was Chris warning them. You managed to get off a few more punches when you were finally pulled off.
“Let me go!”
“Okay, calm down, Adonis Creed, that’s enough,” Chris shouted, trying to break through to you. You still struggled trying to get back to her, but Chris refused to let you go until you calmed down. You looked at Ana on the floor. She was barely moving, and her face was a bloody mess with several patches of her dark hair sprinkled around her. Satisfaction filled you. Raising your hand, you assured Chris you were good. Slowly he let you go, and you stooped down to her.
“Look at me.”
You waited for her writhing to stop and for her bloody, swollen eyes to land on you.
“Remember my name for the rest of your pathetic life. Remember that I’m that bitch!”
You grabbed her hair and held her head. “Try this shit again; you gonna lose your life.”
With that, you punched her one more time, knocking her clear out. Everyone around the precinct shouted out a collective “ooh.” You stood and walked away as they all cleared your path, most likely thinking you were crazy. Chris came beside you, took your hand, and walked back to the car with you. Once inside, you both sat there, silently processing everything. Five minutes passed in silence until you spoke.
“She did all this over dick, Chris. Dick,” you said in disbelief as you shook your head.
“I mean—my dick is A1.”
Your head spun to him. “Christopher!”
He laughed out loud while holding his hands up in defeat.
“Hey, don’t beat my ass too, I don’t want none,” Chris joked, making you laugh a little.
“Wow, remind me not to piss you off again. I don’t want any of what she got.”
You fake lunged at him with your still bloodied fists. “Don’t start none, won’t be none.”
Both of you erupted with laughter before you embraced, relishing in the feeling of togetherness and your love. It was finally over; you thought as Chris pressed a soft kiss to your neck.
“Let’s get the fuck out of this town,” Chris suggested. You snorted and nodded.
“Let’s go home.”
Knowing where you meant, Chris smiled and kissed you once, then twice.
“Let’s,” he whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag List:
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#rumor has it fic#Chris Evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x black reader#chris evans x black ofc#chris evans x ofc uriah#black fanfiction#angst fanfic
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Author's Notes ♡: Ah yes time for another collab before the year ends! I love Shinsou so much and I've been thinking for a while what having some of your firsts would be with him I’m so soft uwu, enjoy! ~ bunny ❥
Warnings : None! A bit steamy in parts but overall fluffy
Word count : 1.3k!
Paring(s) : Shinsou Hitoshi x F! Reader
Enjoy ♡
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You two had shared many firsts together
The first day of UA together
Walking past the giant doors into the halls of UA academy [. ] sighed, looking down at her schedule “1-A huh..” she looked around to the signs as a tap to her shoulder snapped her head back into reality. Looking up to tiffs of purple she felt her face heat up at the rather lazy look on the tall and handsome boy in front of her “1-A is upstairs, the hero corse” she gave him a confused look as he bashfully smiled “Sorry, you were talking to yourself and I couldn’t let you just wander around, you’d get loss. The names Shinsou and you?” The male spoke, making [. ]’s eyes widen at how nice he was “Uhm its [. ]” she said timidly as he gave her a comforting look as the bell rang, singing for their entrance ceremony , walking past her he yelled back “Well, nice to meet you, I’ll see you around yeah?” And with that started a blooming friendship between the shy boy and the even more shy girl
His first confession
Finishing up her training, [. ] ran down to the showers to freshen up, Mina and Uraraka joining her as they all laughed at Mineta being blasted halfway around the ground because he started an argument with Bakugou. Hearing her phone ring she saw a message from Shinsou, asking if he could meet up in her room to ask her something. Responding with a yes she continued to talk to her friends, the rest of the girls joining her and laughing , but she couldn’t help the butterflies in her chest. Leaving the shower after getting dressed she ran upstairs and flopped on her bed, pulling her phone out to tell him she was in her room. Soon after she heard a knock, the tall boy sliding into her room. “Hey [. ] I uhm-“ before he could finish [. ] ran up and hugged him, to the shock of her best friend. Chuckling he hugged her back before rubbing her cheek ‘God [. ] you’re so beautiful’ he thought to himself as she gave him a confused look “Whats up?” Sighing he pulled her even closer as he squished her face, making her have a pouty lip as he laughed “I...love you” he said as her eyes lit up , a mumbled “I love you too!” Coming from her lips. Closing his eyes , Shinsou pushed his head down to meet hers, lavender eyes staring in her [. ] ones “No..I..love love you [. ] the way you smile, the way you laugh, helping me get into the hero’s course..every little thing about you..I’ve slowly fell in love with you since that day you got lost...and I know it’s silly to feel like this but….I can’t keep acting like everything you do doesn’t affect me… I’m sorry , I’m probably making this difficult and I-“ as he started to loosen his grip on her face [. ] stood to her tiptoes and kissed his nose, giggling as his face started to heat up. “Shinsou….kiss me yeah?” And with that he took in a deep breath, pressing his lips against hers as she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck. Softly , Shinsou let his hands slide their way down her back to her waist, pulling her even closer as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. As the kiss got more heated [. ] pulled away, giggling as she ran a finger on his bottom lip, smiling as his usually tired eyes were watching her with energy “[. ] what was that..” he asked as she played with the back of his neck. “Me..stopping you from thinking I wasn’t in love with you” she admitted as he leaned back down, kissing her lips again.
Their first time
Shinsou knew how scared she was and he was too. With a night of hanging out with their fellow hero friends and heading home the couple had found their way in as they started to cook dinner. As the food started to boil [. ] felt warm lips kiss the nap of her neck “Shin..what’re you up to” she questioned as he nipped her neck , a small groan falling from her lips as he walked away “Nothing.” And from that the food was put on a lower heat, the two becoming caught up in a heavy make out turned even more heated. Looking down at the beautiful woman under her , Shinsou couldn’t help but to kiss her face as she hid from him “Yknow I’m a-“ “Virgin? Trust me it’s all I can think about...I’ll go slow okay? Just..let me please you don’t worry about me” and with that Shinsou kept that promise, bring her to many highs that night, even getting up to finish the dinner for the night
Their first and only marriage
The day of the wedding was a nerve racking one. Shinsou couldn’t help feeling a pit in his stomach as he fixed his suit. Unknowingly to him Denki watched the nervous man redo his bow tie four times before stopping him “Dude...she said yes and now you’re gonna see her down the aisle. What did you tell me about Mina hm? That she loves me and my stupidness and no one could take that from me right? So think about it! [. ] loves you for..you being so smart and quiet, it’ll be okay!” Sighing, Shinsou gave his energetic friends a nudge, give a quiet “okay” as they left the room to get in place. Watching the love of his life head down the aisle, flowers in hand and a happy smile on her face. Feeling hot tears fall on his face Shinsou quickly wiped his face, taking his bride to bes hand as they exchanged their vows, sealing them with a kiss.
And the New Years they wouldn’t forget
Two years after their marriage, Shinsou and [. ] were one of the youngest couples to be in the force with their other pro hero friends having similar titles. That night for a New Years party everyone was enjoying their break, dancing , eating, drinking and just being with their friends. Sitting atop of the buildings terrace [ ] nervously waited for the fireworks. Hearing the door squeak open she looked over her shoulder to see her gentle husband enter in with some food and drinks. Giving him a soft smile [. ] took the crackers and apple juice she asked him for. “So my love..is there a reason you asked for me to meet you up here? Wanna just watch the fireworks away from the others?” Shinsou ask as [. ] giggled , snuggling under her large husband “I have a surprise for you” she said as they watched the time count down. Raising a brow he gave her a questioning look, hearing their friends down stairs counting down. As tears filled up [. ]’s eyes he got even more concerned as his wife took his hands in his, a big smile appearing at the last seconds into the new year.
5
4
3
2
1
“I’m pregnant” she said as the fireworks and cheering was nothing to shinsou, his eyes feeling heavy as she placed his large hands over her stomach. “You’re gonna be a dad!” she said excitedly as he broke down, wrapping the smaller girl in his arms. The tears threatening to fall landing on her head as he squeezed her “Thank you..for being the mother of my- our child..god [. ] I love you..what a way to start the year huh…” he chuckled as she hugged him back, kissing his jaw in response “You’re mine forever hm..?” He asked as she shook her head, the two of them kissing between tears and laughter of joy
#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader#shinsou x reader#shinsou hitoshi#hitoshi shinso x reader#bnharem collab#collab time!!
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Can’t Go Back Part 19
A/N: Sorry this one is a few days late. I was having issues with it. I couldnt get it to flow and it had to be reworked a few times. No smut in this one. It also wasn't working for me. There will be smut in the next Present chapter. The next chapter will be posted on Friday as usual. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love. -Em
Monty and I were still dancing around each other a little, but things were getting easier. Our life had fallen back into a comfortable routine. The date night we indulged in last week seemed like it hit the reset button on our relationship again. Our alarm went off on Tuesday morning and we both groaned in protest. It was so warm in bed. “Remind me again why we can’t just cut school and lay here all day?”
“Because we need to go learn things. Helps with the whole graduation thing we are supposed to do this year.” I could feel Monty peppering my neck with soft kisses. “It’s not going to work, Casanova.”
“Shhh. Let me try.” He shushed me.
“No. We don’t have time.” I sighed. I really don’t want to get up. How was I a morning person before?
“I think we do.” Oh yeah. I didn’t have someone waking me up with cuddles and kisses. Nd begging to stay in bed.
“We do not.” I sighed again. Monty sighed. He let go of me and I rolled out of bed. I could feel his eyes on my ass, and I shook my hips a little. He ignored me.
After a hot shower, separately lest we run late for another joyous day at Liberty High, we enjoyed coffee and breakfast together. I smiled to myself while I ate. I was just thankful that we were getting back to normal again. I hated fighting with him. We both knew that it would happen. Especially since we are both stubborn and have an inexplicable need to be right. We were prepared for the little tiffs that would come along. We were prepared for the big fights that were sure to come. Forever is a long time, after all. There were just some things you couldn’t prepare for. Our current struggle was one of those things. But we were getting through it.
Monty startled me when he placed a full cup of coffee beside me. “Thank you.”
“I promised I would never leave your morning coffee empty, remember?”
“I remember.” I smiled fondly and took a sip. He placed his bowl-we had moved up from sticking his hand directly in the box, thank God-in the dishwasher. Scott texted me while I was packing up my backpack.
Can we talk before lunch?
Yeah, sure. About what?
Monty.
Is everything okay? I looked up from my phone at my husband. He was shoving his physics textbook into his bag. It didn’t seem like anything was wrong.
Nothing’s wrong exactly.
What do you mean? He didn’t reply. There was still no answer when Monty and I got to school. Scott wouldn’t look at me when we stopped to chat with our friends. What the hell?
Scott met me outside of my class. “Hey.”
“Hey.” We walked to an empty alcove outside, chatting about nothing in particular. He sat down on the bench and motioned for me to join him.
“I want to keep this short because I’m hungry. We need to talk about Monty.”
“What about him?”
“Now, I know I said I would stay out of your marriage unless I was invited.”
“Yes. You did?”
“And I’m glad everything is working out between you two now.”
“Yeah.” I was beginning to get nervous.
“I also swore to myself I would take zero interest in your private life.”
“That sounds like bullshit. But okay.” He didn’t say anything. He looked at me seriously. Oh. “You mean, our private life.”
“Yeah.”
“So, why do we need to talk Scott?”
“You need to have sex with your husband.” He stated.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll get right on that. Shall we text you updates before, during, and after?”
“Addison. I’m serious.”
“If you are going to lecture me on ‘needs’ Scott….”
“No, nothing like that. He’s just really fucking annoying.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, we don’t talk details. All I need to know about that is that its consensual. But he’s getting kind of cranky.”
“Not with me.” I shrugged.
“Yeah. Because he loves you and he just got out of your bad books.”
“You think that would stop him from being cranky with me? Are we talking about the same Montgomery de la Cruz here? Have you met your best friend?”
“Yes. I think, given the situation, that it would. He likes you. He doesn’t exactly like many other people. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”
“Maybe once or twice.” I shrugged.
“Will you just think about it?”
“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”
“Great. And no. I don’t need updates. Or want them.” We stood up and started walking to the cafeteria.
“Hey Scott?”
“Yeah Addy?”
“Thank you. For being so supportive during this whole mess. I don’t think many other people would be.”
“You’re my friends. It’s what I’m here for. And you feed me at least once a week. I wasn’t about to start missing out on that.” He grinned at me. I laughed and pushed him gently.
“Let me check with my wife.” Monty was saying as Scott and I sat down at lunch.
“Check with me about what?”
“I was just asking Monty if he was down to come to my place for a party later this week.” Bryce said.
Monty gave me a look. “And so, I said I would check with you.” Ah yes. The old checking with the wife line.
“When this week?”
“Friday. Are you his daytimer?”
“Friday?” I thought for a second. “You have a doctor’s appointment at four and physio at seven. It seems I am.”
“Sorry man.” Monty shrugged.
“It’s one appointment. I’m sure you’d be fine to miss them. Or you could swing by after.” I rolled my eyes.
“Do you want your friend’s knee to be permanently fucked? No? Then he can’t go.” Bryce didn’t answer. Thinking the matter had been decided and was no longer up for discussion, I settled in to eat my lunch.
“You could just come anyway. How would she know?” I heard him whisper to Monty.
“Considering we live together I think I would notice if he wasn’t home.” I whisper said back. “We share a bed.” I left the implication of what happened the last time he wasn’t home in our bed, but rather out with Bryce, be.
“Fine.” Bryce pouted.
I caught up with Monty after lunch and he walked me to class. His arm was thrown over my shoulder, possessively, more often than not now that we were getting back on the road to happy, healthy marriage land. “Check with your wife, huh?”
“Yeah. Don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“You know I’m okay with you going, right?”
“I know. But I would rather spend my Friday night with you. I don’t actually have a doctor’s appointment I forgot about, do I?”
“No. You’re free for the night.”
“Good.”
“How has your knee been doing, by the way?”
“It’s been okay. Not like I’m doing anything to stress the ligament too much.” I smirked softly. “I mean, I can’t play ball. I’m not even supposed to be working out that much.” Right. That’s what you meant.
“That’s true. What are we doing instead of Bryce’s?”
“I was thinking pizza? Maybe make it ourselves?”
“Hey guys. Wait up!” Scott called after us. We stopped and turned around. Scoot was tailed by Anders.
“Hey.”
“Doctor’s appointments?” Scott smirked.
“Sure.” Monty nodded.
“You really don’t want to go on Friday, do you?”
“No. I have much better plans.” He squeezed me softly.
“He really does.” I nodded.
“What are your plans?” Anders asked.
“No pants pizza night.”
“What?”
“No pants pizza.” I repeated.
“What’s that?”
“We make or order pizza. And then we sit on the couch. And eat it. Without pants on.” I explained slowly.
“No pants pizza.” Monty shrugged. Scott quickly quirked his brow at me. I made no indication of noticing. The warning bell rang so we went our separate ways.
In class, I took my seat next to Alex and Zach. Alex had come around to Monty and I after we all had dinner. Zach was still pretty stand-offish. The Zach issue had been pushed to the side. We had bigger things to worry about recently. And trying to figure out what was going on in Zach Dempsey’s head was always a tossup. The boy was far from an open book. “Hey Addy.” Alex greeted.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to look. It was a reminder about Monty’s physio appointment tomorrow night. He texted me right away. I didn’t forget about this one.
“How are things?” I asked.
“They go.” Zach replied. Why the hell is he so cranky. It’s been two months. Over two. Everyone else has moved on. Why can’t you?
“They’re good. I started working out with Caleb and Tony.”
“That’s great Alex.”
“Yeah. Girls aren’t really that into scrawny guys.”
“That’s not true.”
“Says the girl married to an Adonis.”
“Semantics.” I shrugged.
“You’re a catch Alex.” Zach added.
“Thanks Zach.” His smile seemed a little brighter at the compliment. Huh. That could be interesting. We chatted a little more before class started. We were watching a video in class and our teacher hadn’t come back with the TV yet.
“Hey, did you guys want to get a burger or something from Rosie’s tomorrow night? Monty has physio so it would just be us.”
“I’m always down for some junk food.” Alex laughed.
“Zach?”
“Sure. I mean,” he paused, “I could eat.”
“Great. Say five thirty?”
“Works for me. I can give you a ride Alex.” Zach offered.
After school, I waited for Monty. He had a test in physics and Mr. Brown was still a hardass about people leaving after they were done. He made everyone wait until every test was handed in. That being said, he always gave everyone five extra minutes at the end of class to finish. For daytime classes, he gave the class notes to excuse lates in their next class.
“Hey Casanova.” I called as Monty left.
“Hey Bookworm.” He leaned in to kiss me when he reached me.
“How was your test?”
“It was okay. My brain hurts.” We walked hand in hand to the Jeep. He hadn’t let me drive since he got cleared by Dr. Marcus. I miss driving it.
“Awe. I’m sorry. Can I drive?”
“No. My car. I drive.” Oh. Okay maybe Scott is right. Maybe he is a little cranky. That’s okay.
“Okay.” I smiled. I climbed in the passenger seat and buckled up.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound that harsh.”
“No, I know. It’s okay. I just thought I’d offer since you look drained from that test.”
“I appreciate the offer, really. I’m good though.”
“Okay.” He leaned over and kissed me again before we drove home.
Inside, I grabbed a snack and refilled my water bottle. I grabbed a couple bags of fruit snacks for Monty too. We worked on homework quietly for a couple of hours. Justin called as I was finishing up. “Homework help?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.
“Shoot.”
“The discussion questions from my English class make no sense.”
“What are the questions?”
“What’s going on?” Monty asked me quietly. I pulled the phone away from my ear and covered the mic.
“English discussion questions.”
“I have them here.” He handed me the sheet. I looked over it carefully. I had uncovered the mic while reading.
“These are kind of dumb. Is this what you do in regular English?”
“Yeah.” My boys responded together.
“Huh. At least you get to read fun books. City of Bones is good. Okay then. Uh let me see.”
“The movie was still bad.”
“Shh. I’m helping Justin.” I grinned.
“Sorry.”
“Okay. Valentine’s rebellion.” I thought for a moment and then discussed it with Justin. “If you just write down what I say, your teacher will know you had someone else do it. So, work through it on your own now.”
“Thanks Addy. You’re the best.”
“I know. Night Justin.” After we hung up, I remembered the plans I made with Alex and Zach. “I’m going to Rosie’s with Alex and Zach tomorrow while you’re at physio.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay.” I grinned at him.
With our homework finished, we spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch. There was something Monty wanted to watch on tv. I had lost interest in it pretty quickly, so I got up and grabbed a book. Laying back down on the couch, I rested my head in his lap. He absentmindedly stroked my hair. Scott’s words played over in my mind. I thought about it for a little while but decided a Tuesday evening probably wasn’t the best time to potentially spend all night having sex. We have school in the morning after all. When we were getting ready for bed though, instead of putting a pair of shorts and one of my old gym shirts on, I walked over to Monty’s dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. I swam in it. I changed my underwear. He whistled to himself when he left the bathroom. I smiled to myself. The seed is planted. Monty pulled me a little closer than usual when we got in bed.
I met Zach and Alex at Rosie’s for dinner. I had run home to change first because it was warmer than I expected it to be today. I didn’t feel right going to dinner in my gym shirt, even if it was at the local diner. Since it was quiet, being the middle of the week, our waitress was at our table almost before we sat down. Melinda had been our waitress here since Zach and I were kids. She was a kind old lady. She knew everyone’s orders by heart. As such, we didn’t have to give our drink order. She did let us look at the menu “just for fun”.
“How’re things with you guys?” I asked when our drinks arrived. I took a few sips of my Cherry Coke float and stirred it to mix it up.
“Things are good. The team is looking pretty good this year. School prospects are looking good.” Zach said.
“Monty was saying that they’re shaping up pretty well. And you Alex?”
“Good. Jess and I are friends again. Tony says I’m getting stronger.”
“That’s great Alex.” I smiled.
“How are things with you Addy?”
“They’re good. I’m done with college applications for now.”
“Early admission?” Zach asked.
“Yeah. If I don’t get in anywhere, then I’ll apply for regular admission somewhere.”
Melinda was eyeing us from the counter, so we looked at the menu quickly. We decided to split a couple baskets of fries, some chicken strips, and each get a burger. I got a chicken sandwich. The boys both got cheeseburgers. After our drinks were refilled, we got back to talking. “How’s Monty doing?” Alex asked. Zach’s face pinched slightly. Seriously what the hell is his deal?
“He’s doing okay. Stubborn. But that isn’t a surprise to anyone.”
“Is he ever not stubborn?” Well, sometimes. During sex.
“I don’t think you want to know. And he would have to kill the three of us if I told you.”
“Oh? Are you trying to tell us that he’s fun?” Zach asked.
“He likes to make me smile. So sometimes he does stuff to make that happen. And that’s all you’re getting out of me.”
“And his knee?”
“You know. It’s a process. Some days are better than others. I think it bugs him more than he lets on, but I don’t want to push. Physio is helping and Dr. Marcus says he should be able to do some lower body workouts if things keep progressing well.”
“That’s good. Tell him to stop by practice sometime?”
“I’ll try. I think there’s only so many practices he can go to and just watch.”
“I get that. The invitation is open though.”
“I’ll let him know.”
Our food arrived. The three of us took a break from catching up, to savour the food. “How’s married life?” Alex asked.
“Oh, you know.” The boys looked at me, expectantly. “It’s mostly a lot of asking each other what we want for dinner. Every night. For the rest of our lives.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Zach smiled.
“That isn’t. It’s agreeing on something that’s the hard part. I married a guy who would be content eating chicken nuggets and fruit snacks for dinner every night. Trying to get him to eat a vegetable is an almost insurmountable battle.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Can you blame him?” Alex asked.
“It feels like it is sometimes. And not really. But would eating some carrots really hurt him?”
“Yes.” My friends said in unison.
“Boys.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’ll only get worse when we have kids and they’re at eating regular food age. Because they’ll need to be included in the decision.”
“And how can you make them eat vegetables when their dad doesn’t?” Alex laughed.
“Exactly!” I exclaimed, pointing a chicken strip at him. The three of us laughed.
“How are things with you guys… otherwise?” Zach asked, hesitantly.
“They’re,” I paused, “getting better. We’ve talked a lot in the last few weeks. I think we are back on the same page. It’s a work in progress.”
“That’s good. Things seemed pretty….” He didn’t finish his sentence.
“I know. And they were. We are working on it though.”
“It was pretty funny watching him shut Bryce down at lunch.”
“What happened?” Alex asked.
“He played the ‘let me ask my wife’ card.”
“Oof. And I’m guessing that went over Bryce’s head?”
“What do you think?”
“Of course, it did.” He grinned and shook his head.
We talked for another hour or so. Melinda brought us another basket of fries on the house. Around seven, Monty texted me. I grabbed a couple of pints of Haagen Dazs at the store.
Okay. I’ll see you at home. I love you.
I love you too. The three of us called it a night around eight. We bid each other good night and promised to text each other when we got home.
I’m on my way home. Do we need anything else before I get home?
No, I grabbed a couple of things. I’ll get your ice cream out. Drive safe Bookworm.
Okay. Thank you. I will. See you soon Casanova.
#can't go back#monty imagine#monty x reader#monty de la Cruz fanfic#montgomery de la cruz x oc#monty de la cruz#montgomery de la cruz#montgomery de la cruz imagine#montgomery de la cruz x reader#zach dempsey#Alex Standall#scott reed
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Defence Mechanism
PAIRING: Dean Winchester X Reader
WORD COUNT: 1549
WARNINGS: Angst, but fluffy end.
SUMMARY: Sam has to play therapist when Dean and Y/N keep having stupid arguments.
A/N: Just a dumb thing I wrote a while back. Please reblog and leave comments 💛
MASTERLIST
Sam whistled to the tune of the song he was listening to as he walked to his bedroom when he was rudely interrupted by loud yelling as he walked past the living room.
“GIVE ME THE BLOODY REMOTE!”
“SCREW YOU!”
He frowned and took two steps back before peeking his head through the door. Dean and Y/N both had their hands on their hips as they screamed at each other. The remote, which he assumed they were arguing over, was clutched tightly in Dean’s hand.
“Uhhh...What’s going on in here?” Sam asked from the doorway and both heads snapped sideways to look at him.
“Your dickwad brother won’t give me the remote so I can watch Game of Thrones!” Y/N yelled before shooting daggers at Dean with her eyes.
“I can’t watch season 7 when I haven’t finished season 6!” Dean yelled back in defence, angrily staring at Y/N.
Sam glanced between the two of them with a raised brow and slightly open mouth as they continued their argument. This was so incredibly stupid, but he knew he was going to have to resolve it before it got too messy.
“Leave then!” Y/N retorted in frustration, “No one’s begging you to be here!”
“Why should I have to leave my own living room just so you can watch a show that I like but am not caught up with???” Dean asked and raised his eyebrows. Y/N stared at him with a confused expression before shaking her head.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh, “Why can’t you ever compromise? Just once!”
Dean’s eyes widened in exasperation as he turned to Sam who simply shrugged and averted his eyes, “I always compromise!”
“Name one time.”
Dean opened his mouth to answer then closed when he realised he didn’t have anything to say. Y/N rested her weight on one leg and folded her arms across her chest. Dean turned to Sam for help, but once again, he simply shrugged.
Dean chewed on his lips as he thought for a moment before his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers and smiled.
“I clip my fingernails!” he finally said with a smug smile. Sam and Y/N shared an exhausted look before turning to Dean simultaneously, “What?”
“I don’t like clipping my fingernails,” he explained, “But I compromise and do it anyway because Y/N here likes it when I use my fingers in bed to-“
“Okay, okay,” Sam chuckled awkwardly and rested his hands on his hips, “That’s...way too much information.” He glanced at Y/N who was glaring at Dean.
“That’s a blatant lie because your nails have always been short. Even before we started dating.”
Dean smirked and shrugged, “I guess I was compromising for you and all the other hot girls that came before you.”
Y/N sucked in a sharp breath before exploding, “That’s it. Where’s my shotgun?!” She charged at Dean but Sam quickly held her back. Dean childishly stuck his tongue out at her and laughed mockingly which only enraged Y/N further. “I’m gonna shoot the fucking nails off you, dickwad!”
“Dean can you please leave?” Sam pleaded from over Y/N’s shoulder as he struggled to hold her back. She was like a little hellcat. Dean snorted and shook his head, “No. No way, why should I-”
“Get. Out.”
He rolled his eyes before sighing and throwing the remote onto the couch as he exited the room.
As soon as he was out of her sight, Y/N relaxed and Sam felt it was safe enough to let her go. She let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on the couch, “I swear to God, sometimes I really hate your brother, Sam.”
“I can understand that,” he chuckled and flopped down on the couch beside her, “Sometimes I hate him too.”
“He just makes me so mad!” she growled as she balled up her fists angrily. Sam let out a short chuckle and murmured, “No he doesn’t.”
“Um, trust me, he does,” she scoffed and folded her arms across her chest angrily.
Sam watched her stew for a moment before sighing heavily, “Okay, I’m just gonna say it: you guys have to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
“You guys make a huge deal out of nothing every time one of you has to leave for a hunt!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. Y/N’s mouth dropped open in offence. “We do not!” she gasped in defence.
Sam raised a brow at her, “Yeah? How about the fight last month because you used his shoe to kill a cockroach?”
Y/N scoffed and leaned back in the chair before mumbling, “That wasn’t a fight. It was a tiff if anything.”
“You didn’t speak for three days.”
“A bad tiff,”
Sam sighed once more and rolled his eyes. “Look, it just doesn’t make sense,” she argued, “Why would I want to get in a fight with Dean? I love him.”
“That’s the exact reason,” he pointed out, “You guys are so scared of losing each other, that you have dumb arguments before the other goes off to do something dangerous.”
Y/N chewed her thumbnail and listened quietly to Sam’s psychoanalysis. “You figure that if you get mad at him, it wouldn’t hurt too bad,” he explained, “And Dean’s always thought that he doesn’t deserve you.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Yeah, try telling him that,” Sam sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, “He always tries to get you to hate him, just like he’s doing now.”
Y/N was silent as she mulled over what Sam had said.
“I thought you studied law, not psychology.”
Sam cracked up laughing and shook his head, “All I’m saying is, you need to talk to Dean, and face the fact that whether you guys fight or not, it would really fucking suck if one of you died.”
__________________________
Dean hesitantly walked into the living room where Y/N was sat cross-legged on the couch. He expected to find her watching her show, but instead, the TV was turned off and she was picking her fingernails.
“Hey,” he murmured as he approached the couch and stood at the end of it. She looked up at him and smiled weakly, “Hey”
“Did Sammy go full therapist on you too?” he asked with a smile as he ran a hand over the arm of the couch. She chuckled and scratched the back of her neck nervously before nodding, “Yeah, I’ve been contemplating the last few years of my life since.”
Dean laughed softly before sitting beside Y/N with a sigh. She immediately unfolded her legs and rested her head on his chest. He put an arm around her and rested his chin on her head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and pressed a kiss on her hair. She smiled and mumbled, “I’m sorry too. For the record, I never would’ve actually shot you.”
Y/N shook as Dean's body shook with laughter, “I know, baby.”
She pulled away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “I love you, Dean...But, I worry about you constantly.”
“It’s not easy for me when you go on hunts without me either,” he confessed, “I like having you by my side so I can protect you.”
“I know that, baby,” she sighed and intertwined her fingers with his before looking back up at him, “But I’m not the one who’s actually died before.”
Dean let out a heavy sigh and dropped his head again. “Every time you walk out that door, Dean...I’m terrified that that’s going to be the last time I see you,” she frowned sadly, her eyes on their hands, “That this time, you’re gonna be gone for good.”
Dean immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. She rested her head onto his chest once more as he spoke to her.
“I can’t promise you that I won’t have hunts that go wrong, or that I’ll be here forever,” he whispered to her, “You can’t promise me that either. It’s the shitty life we have to live as hunters.”
“I know that,” she murmured, “It really fucking sucks sometimes.”
Dean chuckled softly and continued talking. “What I can promise you, is that I’ll always be extra careful, so I can come back home to you,” he smiled, “Because even though I don’t deserve you, I’m a selfish guy who can’t get enough of you.”
“I really hate it when you say that.” Y/N sighed and sat up again to look at him properly. “Dean, you’ve spent practically your whole life putting everyone’s lives before your own,” she said as she stared into his eyes, “Not only do you deserve me, you deserve the world.”
Dean stared at her in complete awe before capturing her lips in an electrifying kiss, “For the record,” he mumbled breathlessly against her lips, “I love you too.” Y/N smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Suddenly, Sam’s large figure appeared in the doorway of the living room. When he realised what was happening, he let out a groan.
“Guys, please don’t have sex on the couch.”
#dean winchester#dean#dean spn#supernatural#spn#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader
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ME TOO CLARI ME TOO my fav thing to do is making someone watch a film that i’ve enjoyed nd observe their reaction all the time hehehe i watch their reactions more than the actual movie pffft
moving onto ur fav film list, your fav film list made me SO happy!! i was so excited to see that most of them were films i’ve watched&wholeheartedly enjoyed ( ^ω^ ) FINALLY SOMEONE APPRECIATING THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS YES!! whenever i mention anderson everyone talks ab the grand budapest hotel so im so happy to see u enjoyed the royal tenenbaums 🥺 also omg u watched burning?!? isn’t it such an amazing film <3 also reservoir dogs and little women and spirited away and ahh i could go on and on forever ab ur list but this ask would be a whole essay so i’ll force myself to hold in cri cri
horror movies are so fascinating aren’t they!!! i love em sm too <3 ari aster n jordan peele r my fav favs when it comes to horror. +the shining and scream! i enjoyed the conjuring series as well :) wait can i drop u a rec, since u love horror i totally recommend a tale of two sisters by kim. one of my all time favs&i have a strong feeling u would love it too! that film has such beautiful cinematography as well (✿╹◡╹)
ahhh my fav films r like, all over the place cuz i don’t have a strong preference/taste, but some of my fav films (that aren’t mentioned above/in ur list) include jojo rabbit-waititi, the florida project-baker, dazed and confused-linklater, moonlight-jenkins, girl interrupted-mangold, your name-makoto, mid90s-hill, lady bird-gerwig, uncut gems-safdie and etc etc so many more but i feel like im oversharing hehehe i also love action movies too but that’s a whole different discussion ;)
honestly u can recommend me anything u want cuz my taste is all over the place like i said, but to narrow it down, hmmm 🤔 is there a movie that u think is a must-watch? or genre-wise, maybe horror/action/drama/coming of age!! love u so so much clari<33 how is tumblr allowing me to write this much huh -🐰
ehehehe okay i’m gonna answer under the cut because i knoooow i’m gonna ramble
RIGHT and like idek why i guess i just love sharing the things i love with the people i care about and observing how they feel about it???
AHAHAHA YESSSSS oh my gosh i love the royal tenenbaums so much!! like my favourite wes film is either fantastic mr fox or rushmore, but yes!! grand budapest is rly pretty tho and i think that’s why so many people gravitate towards it yk? I DID WATCH BURNING actually i was super lucky and got to watch it at TIFF before it ‘officially’ premiered + there was a lil q&a with the cast and director (w a translator ehehe) but it absolutely blew me away. i’m just in love with korean cinema as a whole. i have yet to watch a korean film that i don’t like!!
little women is just !!!!!!! i love greta so much and i can’t wait to see what else she creates; i just feel like greta is a woman director creating films FOR WOMEN. does that make sense??? well-known women directors are already so sparse, but there are some (ie bigelow) who create uhhhhhh films that cater more towards men and the masses??? and that’s not to say that bigelow isn’t a fantastic director, because she IS, but i really like sofia coppola and greta gerwig because their films are so feminine and focused on feminine issues and relationships that we really don’t see on widespread/popular screens (like at first run theatres ie multiplexes).
RESERVOIR DOGS AAAAAAAH listen listen i have A Thing for mr. blonde ehehehe yeah i really love quentin, as i mentioned. whenever someone says pulp fiction is his best film i really have to refrain from rolling my eyes, and i know that makes me sound like suuuuch a snob but like,,,,,,,,,, pulp fiction is his most popular film, not his best (in MY opinion!! since art is all personal opinion yk etc etc). and like i could go on forever about him, i love every single one of his films, i think he’s such a fantastic writer and just aaaaah <333333 love quentin’s work so so so much.
ARI ASTER AND JORDAN PEELE ARE FANTASTIC. i wrote an essay on get out and it was literally one of my favourite essays to write!! i’m really really really excited to see what both of them continue to create!! OOOOH I LOOKED IT UP AND YEAH IT LOOKS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY i will add it to the list n get back to you!!!
aaaaah ur taste!!! dw clearly my taste is all over the place too ahahaha i just love cinema so much, i’m always eager to watch new films and literally always feel overwhelmed with just how many i want to watch ehehehe. OH MY GOD YOUR NAME MADE ME SOB LIKE A BABY such a beautiful film!!!!!! loved it so so so much. eeeee i actually hate action movies ahahahaha 🙈🙈🙈
hmmm i’m gonna try n go with ‘must watch’ films just because i feel like i’ve already mentioned so many in most of those genres n you’ve already seen most of them, so!!
ladri di biciclette by de sica
masculin, feminin and pierrot le fou by godard
news from home by akerman (if you can find it, it can be a lil difficult to track down but if ur school has a decent film library/collection they should have it!!)
rome, open city by rossellini
in the mood for love by wong kar-wai
the 400 blows by truffaut
hotel by the river by hong sangsoo (i literally love this film so fucking much my gosh like another one we saw at TIFF one year and just !!!!!!!)
full metal jacket by kubrick
apocalypse now by coppola
bride of frankenstein by whale
nosferatu by murnau (honestly anything german expressionism is worth watching esp the cabinet of dr caligari and metropolis, too,, i just really love german expressionism lmaoooo)
peeping tom by powell
king kong (1933) by cooper + schoedsack
aaaah like tbh i’d be surprised if you didn’t know/watch these, too!! like, i feel like they’re fairly common in film programs but!!! recommending films to another film student is hard cause i’m sitting here like ‘well, they most likely know all of the american/hollywood ‘must watch’ films’, but then i’m all ‘but if they’re a film student, there’s a good chance they’ve watched these, too’ so aaaah idk i hope some of these are new to you, at least!!! i kinda just thought about my favourite cinema movements and picked a film or two from each ahahahaha
SORRY I WROTE U A MINI ESSAY LMAO JUST RAAAAMBLING but !!! i can’t wait to hear more about ur cinema adventures!!! lmk if you’ve seen any on the rec list omg omg and once again sorry it took me so long to finish answering this :((
#WHEW#literally i could talk forever about cinema i love it so much#i will not shut the fuck up LMAO#but yeah!!! aaaaah it's so great to have another film student to talk to on here!!!#if you've seen most of the films on that list then i can move onto horror + drama recs (if u want me to ofc!!)#anyway lmk!!!#i hope u had a wonderful day my lil bunny n i hope you're staying safe!! <33#🐰.anon#clari gets mail
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Waste Love: Part Seventeen
Pairing: Colson Baker|Machine Gun Kelly x OFC Warnings: Language, Alcohol and Drug Use, Smut, Violence, Angst, Fluff A/N: Sorry this took forever! Thank you for everyone who still reads this little adventure of mine. Smut warning for this chaptre as a gift for your patience :) this is barely edited, so please forgive any mishaps you see.
Tiffany groaned, her head pounding in rhythm with her heart beat as her eyes fluttered open. She clutched her skull between her palms as she winced, rolling over to her side to see Colson’s peaceful face beside her, the man still dead to the world. She looked around the room, noting that she was not in her parent’s house like she’d expected, but instead what was obviously a hotel room. Liquor and beer bottles littered the space, the smell of spilled liquids making her stomach turn as she forced herself to sit up.
“The fuck happened?” She murmured to herself, running a hand through her tangled mess of hair with another wince before standing and making her way to the bathroom.
After using the restroom and swallowing a packet of Advil found on the counter, Tiffany returned to the room to sit on the edge of the bed. She was trying to piece together the previous evening when she heard Colson groan behind her, her head turning to see him rubbing both of his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up.
“Come lay down, Tiff,” He croaked, his voice tired and hoarse from sleep as he rolled over to his side and nuzzled back down into the pillow, his eyes closing again.
“Where the fuck are we?” Tiffany rasped, her brows furrowing was she took in the state of the room they occupied. Besides the bottles everywhere, there were numerous champagne glasses adorning the coffee table beside the small couch, as well as what appeared to be rose petals scattered throughout the spaces.
A deep sigh came from behind her, Colson’s lids opening again as she turned her head to look at him. He chuckled slightly before shaking his head, looking up to the ceiling as he scrubbed his face again with a grunt of frustration. “You don’t remember shit, do you?”
Tiffany whimpered at the expression displayed across his face, the smug grin concerning her greatly.
Colson raised himself up and wrapped a lanky arm around her torso, pulling her backwards and forcing her to lay down beside him. He propped himself up on his elbow as he hovered over her, beaming smile breaking across his lips as he looked down at her.
“Colson…” she warned, her brow furrowing as her jaw ticked, “where are we?”
“Okay, so, it was your idea,” He started, dimples pressing hard against his cheeks as he tried to contain an onslaught of laughter. A giggle bubbles out of him at her obvious annoyance, the man sucking in a composing breathe before finishing with, “We’re in Vegas.”
“Vegas.” Tiffany repeated, surprisingly calm as her eyes roamed from Colson’s blue gaze to the ceiling, the word resounding in her head as she mulled over what that meant.
“Vegas.” Colson confirmed, watching her expression intently as he waited for the pieces to click together.
Still not understanding, Tiffany’s gaze returned to him as she waited for further explanation.
Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled his left hand out from under the blanket, the simple platinum band adorning his finger glinting in the sunlight shooting through a spot in the curtain. Tiffany’s eyes instantly widened in horror, her fingers snapping out to grab his hand and bring it closer to her face for further inspection.
“No!” She gasped, her wide eyes shifting quickly between Colson’s hand and his face. A chuckle breathed passed his lips as he watched her face go through a range of expressions in an incredibly short period of time before her eyes finally settled on the pretty ring adorning her own finger, “No!”
“Yup.” Colson simply replied, popping the p for dramatics as a bright smile took over his face again, his teeth showing in that famous signature smile of his.
Leaping from the bed, Tiffany let out a huff of disbelief before gripping the roots of her hair between her fingers with a growl.
“You… you… you fuckin’ tricked me! What did you do?” She screeched, crawling back over the bed to him and hammering her fist into his chest as he laughed at her, “This isnt fucking funny, Colson!”
A sudden pounding at the door distracted Tiffany from her assault, the sound of her brothers laughter filtering through the barrier. Tiffany pointed a sharp fingernail in his direction before snarling, “I’m going to fucking stab you.”
Tiffany lurched the door open to meet her brother’s smiling face, the sight instantly pissing her off more as she pulled him into the room by the front of his shirt. Slamming the door forcefully, she rounded on him and spat, “This isn’t fucking funny.”
“I find it hilarious you don’t find it funny when it was your idea.” Rook replied smugly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked to Colson still laying in the bed, “what was it that she said?”
“’Oh, Kels, please, please, let’s just go do it tonight!’” Colson replied in a mocking, high pitched voice, instantly covering his face with the blanket to dodge a pillow being thrown by her.
“Wha- What was it? Oh yeah, ‘I wanna be Misses Machine Gun Kelly!’” Rook added, snickering while dodging his own assault from his sister.
“Fuck you both! Assholes!” She spat, stomping her feet, “I can’t believe this shit!”
“Check your instagram, dude. You snapchatted the entire thing.” JP chortled, tossing her phone towards her. She instantly snatched it up and went through her notifications, a guttural growl leaving her chest before she chunked the phone into the wall.
“Leave, Johnny.” She hissed lowly, her eyes shooting venomous daggers into her brothers skin. JP saw the seriousness in his sisters face and nodded his head submissively before making his way to the door.
Tiffany double checked the lock after it was shut before crumpling against the wood and sinking to the floor. A sob ripped its way out of her throat unexpectedly, and she couldn’t stop herself from picking up the nearest empty bottle beside her and hurling it at the wall in the same place her phone landed. The glass exploded easily against the dry wall as another gasp croaked out of Tiffany’s choking body.
Colson was in front of her suddenly, “Babygirl.”
“This...isn’t…how…” Tiffany bawled, her breath hiccuping as she fought against the words, “I didn’t… not like this.”
“Baby, its okay. Calm down.” Colson tried, guilt filling him as he held his wife’s face between his hands. He knew she’d be pissed but didn’t expect this. “We can get an annulment if you want. We can...”
“Wha-What?” Tiffany stuttered, confusion embracing her features. “That’s not…”
Tiffany pushed Colson's hands away, shaking her head in contest as she tried to catch her breath, “That’s not why…”
“What then, Tiff?” Colson tried, wincing as tears began to choke him, “I’m sorry...I…”
“I don’t remember any of it.” Tiffany finally got out, her lip poking out in a pout as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, “I married you and I don’t even remember my own wedding…”
“Oh, babe…” Colson signed, relief rampaging through him as he realized what she meant. He couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbles out as he wrapped his arms around her and said, ”We can do it again if you want. A real one, without your brother being the flower girl.”
“Casie is supposed to be the flower girl!” Tiffany sobbed again, gripping Colson’s arms and burying her face into his chest. He held her while she cried, his fingertips trailing over her arms as he shushed her.
“Baby, come on. It’s okay. I’m sorry, alright?”
“I don’t even remember my own wedding night!” She huffed, pulling away from him to wipe her eyes, “What the fuck?”
“Would you like a replay?” Colson grinned, cupping her jaw with his hands before pulling her into a kiss. Tiffany couldn’t help but grin into his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he parted her mouth with his tongue.
Colson pulled her from the floor and led her back to bed, pulling her clothes off of her as he went. His own boxers were quickly she’d as he covered her body with his lean frame, the muscles in his arms rolling as he held himself above her.
“You’re my wife, you know that?” Colson rasped, his husky voice sending shivers down her spine as she rolled her hips up into him, his heavy cock slipping through the wetness that had gathered at his words.
“Mmm, I like that.” She cooed, smiling up at him as her hands ran down his back, “Misses Baker.”
“Mmm,” he grinned, lips finding her neck and leaving bite marks in their wake as he trailed them down her collar bone, “Misses Baker.”
Colson continued a path with his mouth, lavishing her breasts and stomach with wet, hot kisses and licks before settling between her thighs.
“Pretty little pussy,” he whispered as he peeled her lips back with his index finger and thumb while his other hand massaged her thigh, “God damn.”
Stars erupted quickly behind her eyelids at the feeling of his tongue pressing against her clit, a loud, wanton moan projecting out of her. Her chest heaved as she came instantly, new wetness flooding Colson’s mouth and running down his scruffy chin.
“Mmm,” he moaned at the taste of her, continuing his work as he held her hips firmly to the mattress while she writhed against his face.
“Cols,” Tiffany whimpered, her body vibrating as she let another orgasm take over her. Her legs clamped down over Colsons shoulders as her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails scratching into his scalp and earning her a groan from the man devouring her. “Please.”
“What do you need, wife?” Colson asked when he finally pulled away from her, an innocently wicked glint shining in the blue orbs looking up at her, “You need Daddy’s cock?”
Another whimper was the only response Tiffany could manage as she reeled him up her body by his hair, attaching her mouth to his and instantly moaning at the taste of herself on his lips. Colson pulled away again before hoisting her legs up around his waist, his cock gripped firmly in one hand while the other spread her glistening lips apart once more. He rubbed the leaking head of his dick against her clit, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he teased not only her, but himself as well. His eyes roamed her lithe frame and he almost choked, not believing that the woman beneath him was finally his wife.
“Stop teasing,” Tiffany whined, her own plump bottom lip caught between her teeth as she pinched her nipples and undulated again, “I wanna fuck my husband.”
Growling at her words, Colson pushed against her entrance, her pliable body accepting him easily, as if he belonged there. Which he did.
“Fuck, Tiff,” Colson grunted, his voice shaky. His skin instantly tingled with the feeling of natural ecstasy rolling through him and his fingertips bit into the flesh of her thigh as he steeled himself, “Pussy too damn good.”
“Daddy, please.” She mewled desperately, rolling her hips with a moan, “I need you.”
“Fuck, babe. I’m tryna not cum here.” Colson huffed, shaking his head as he smirked at her, his cock pulsing against her tight walls, “Gimme a minute.”
Tiffany whimpered again in frustration before snaking her hand between their bodies, her fingers finding her clit and working it expertly, “Colson.”
The feeling of him stretching her open was all Tiffany really needed the moment her finger tip touched the swollen bundle of nerves. She constricted around him while she came, ripping a deep, low growl from Colson as he watched her fall apart around him.
“Shit,” Colson breathed, not able to hold himself back any more as he leaned forward, folding her in half essentially, before pounding his hips into hers roughly.
“Fuck, yes!” Tiffany cried, her vision blurred as he split her open, “so good!”
“Yeah? Daddy feel good?” He grunted while snapping his hips again, his cock dragging through her the way she loved, “You love it?”
“Ye-ye-yesss…” She keened in reply, her back arching and nipples rubbing against his chest, “please- don’t- stop!”
“You gon’ cum again for me, wife? Gonna cum for your husband?” He breathed, cerulean irises boring into her face, “Come on, baby, I feel you.”
As if on command, the coil burst again and Tiffany clamped down around him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders and drawing blood. Colson growler at the pain and lifted himself off of her, earning a frustrated noise from his wife before he flipped her to her stomach.
“You're gonna need this” Colson said as he shoved a pillow into her face, “hang on tight, babe.”
Tiffany was thankful for the pillow as she used it to muffle her screams that soon followed, Colson’s cock hitting a deepness inside of her that made the world seem to stand still. She could tell he was close when his strokes became longer, impossibly deeper, and his grunts became louder. She moved the pillow away from her face and gasped for breath, turning her head to watch him from over her shoulder.
“Come for me, baby.” She moaned, eyes rolling back into her head, “please Daddy.”
“Yeah? Where you want my nut?” He huffed,grinding his hips into hers, “Wanna feel me? Or can Daddy come on your face?”
“Mhmmm,” Tiffany answered, adjusting her knees so she could buck back into him, “Gimme.”
“Fuck yeah,” Colson gasped, leaning forward to grip her purple tangles, “Come here, lil’ whore.”
He pulled out of her and fisted himself with his free hand, tugging her off the bed and standing while she kneeled before him. He stared down at her with his mouth slightly agape as he stroked himself, struggling to keep his eyes open at the sight of her licking her lips and parting them, waiting for her prize.
“Holy fuck,” he finally spat, his body tensing as a long stream of cum painted her face, more splattering all over her lips and neck and chest as he erupted. He gasped and yelped when she wrapped her lips around the head, sucking the remains out of him as she looked up at him with wide, watery eyes.
The slight of her with his cock in her mouth and cum covering her face had another orgasm rolling through him before he even knew what was happening. He collapsed onto his knees in front of her, his chest heaving as the aftershocks rolled through him.
“Holy fuck,” Colson repeated, his voice still shaky, “That was…holy fuck.”
“Mmhmm.” She replied, wiping her face off with a discarded shirt laying nearby.
“God damn I’m glad I married you.” Colson huffed, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.
“Hope you’re not too tired, husband.” Tiffany purred once they separated, a devious sparkle in her hazel eyes as she licked her lips, “it is our honeymoon, you know.”
Masterlist
Tags: @cobainscocaiine @coffee-obsessed-writer @through-thesilver-lining @daryldixonandfrogs @buckyscrystalqueen @mgkobsessed @iamdorka @creatureofthen1ght-v3 @xxencagedxx @xxkellsvixen19xx @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @bvibunny138 @crystalbaby12 @abbysdogcollar @sparxx27
*credit for the bomb ass banner is to best friend @coffee-obsessed-writer
#machine gun kelly#mgk imagine#mgk fanfiction#mgk smut#mgk x ofc#mgk x reader#mgk x you#machine gun kelly imagine#machine gun kelly x#machine gun kelly fanfiction#machine gun kelly fanfic#machine gun kelly x ofc#colson baker imagine#colson baker#colson baker fanfiction#colson baker smut#colson baker x ofc#colson baker x reader
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The Life You Deserve | g.d.
Grayson Dolan worked hard to provide for his family, but Y/N’s disgruntled father and their life on the wrong side of the tracks are certainly obstacles to overcome. In the end, though, Grayson promised to give you the life you deserve.
-
“My mom invited us over for dinner.”
“She did what?”
Grayson Dolan was a hard working man living in a town where last names matter. Unfortunately for Grayson’s little family, the Dolan name did not matter, but you wore that name with all the pride in the world.
See, Grayson wasn’t supposed to be your future because you’re maiden name mattered in this town. Your maiden name would’ve got you a hotshot husband with a golf addiction. Your maiden name would’ve got you one of the big fancy houses on the east side of town. But instead of embracing the last name you had like your brothers and father did, you despised it, intentionally doing things to taint the name while a teenager. You were a disappointment in your father’s eyes. The biggest disappointment, though, came when you were sixteen in the form of a mechanic from the westside, Grayson, and then eventually your doe-eyed daughter, Dakota.
When you were sixteen and brought Grayson home for the first time, your father thought it was a joke, just another one of your rebellions, because you wouldn’t really bring a washed up nobody from the westside into his gorgeous home, would you?
Well you did, and your father did not like that at all.
That night your father banned Grayson from ever coming back into his house again. Little did you know then that the ban would literally mean forever. Even after you got married and had Dakota, Grayson was not allowed in, nor was Dakota for that matter, being she was half Grayson.
You never understood why your father could never give Grayson a chance, and it pains you to see what the lack of support from your parents did to him. Grayson always showed your parents the utmost respect, always calling them “ma’am” and “sir”. Your parents didn’t even show up to your wedding. When Dakota was born, your mom came with gifts and love for her new granddaughter, but your father was nowhere in sight. Later you would find out that your mom had to go behind your father’s back to even come to the hospital. This killed you because Dakota was an innocent baby of your fathers own blood that, now four years later, your father had yet to meet.
So yeah, after all the shit your parents, sorry your father, had put your little family through, Grayson was surprised to hear that your mother had invited them to dinner.
“My mom invited us over for dinner tonight.” You had known about this dinner for about a week now, but nervous about what Grayson would say, you decided to tell him last minute.
“I heard you the first time, love. May I ask why your parents had a sudden change of heart and are inviting us over for the first time. Ever.”
“Michael and James are home from a big business trip, I guess, and my mom wants all her kids and grandkids under the same roof. I don’t know, Gray, but we’re going.”
Michael and James, the sons your father always wanted and the ones he got. Michael and James had everything. They had the golf addiction, the job, the house, the perfect proper wives and children, and most importantly, they had your father’s support. If your dad would have been an all around asshole to all of his children, equally, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad. Unfortunately, he was only an asshole to you, and your family.
“Y/N, why are we going? You really want to put yourself, put Dakota, through that?” You rolled your eyes at this, walking to the fridge to grab Dakota some fruit for breakfast. All you’ve ever wanted was for your parents to love you, Dakota, and Grayson the way they loved your siblings and their families.
“We’re going because this is the first time they’ve ever reached out to us, Gray. My mom actually called me and asked for all of us, not just me, to come. She even said she had a birthday present for Dakota. We’re going. Even if it’s only for a little while.” Grayson just huffed at this rolling his eyes before standing up and giving Dakota a kiss on the cheek.
Walking over to you he spoke sternly, “fine, but if they start saying anything about Dakota, we’re leaving, okay?” Grayson gave you a kiss on the cheek and then the lips while you nodded your head. “I’ve got to get to work, I’ll see you later, I love you.”
“I love you too. And don’t be late home tonight! We have to be there at 6:30 sharp!” You called after him as he walked out the door, closing it softly.
You sighed, thinking about tonight because it was either going to go swimmingly, or be an absolute shit show.
-
It was now 6:00 and you were a nervous wreck. This was the first time you were going to see your father in two years and your brother Michael, three. James was the middle child and had much more empathy than Michael, so he kept in touch. Even bringing his family to Dakota’s fourth birthday party last weekend.
You were a pacing mess. You got dressed for this dinner an hour early, for no particular reason than you needed to get your mind off the obvious. Now, just finishing changing Dakota into a dress your mother sent her, you were standing behind Grayson as he tied his tie in the mirror.
“Gray, I’m nervous.”
Being the sarcastic man he his he replied, “no really? I couldn’t tell by your persistent power walking down the hallway.”
You rolled your eyes, not needing the extra irritation, “shut up. This is a big deal!”
Grabbing your hands, trying to ease the nerves, Grayson put his forehead against yours, “Y/N, everything is going to be okay. We’re going to go over there and have dinner and catch up and everything is going to go smooth. You got to calm down, though, okay?” You just nodded your head against his while closing your eyes. He was right, nerves were not what you needed right now. You needed to be the level headed, poised woman your mother raised you to be.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll grab Dakota and put her in the car.”
-
The car ride across town to your parent’s house was extremely quiet, even your four year old that never shut up, fell silent. When Grayson pulled up in front of the house you felt all the air leave your lungs. You hadn’t been inside your childhood home in years.
Grayson looked over to you with worried eyes, “You ready, Love?”
“Yes, let’s go.” With that you unbuckled yourself and opened your door, Grayson getting Dakota from her carseat. The walk to the front door felt like an eternity and then the wait after pushing the door bell felt even longer. Finally, the door opened to reveal your mother smiling ear to ear.
“Y/N! How are you, dear? Come in, come in!” Your mother ushered you in while pulling you into a hug before letting go and turning to Grayson and Dakota. “Grayson? Oh my is that my grand baby? Come here sweetheart!” Your mom pulled Dakota out of Grayson’s arms and gave her all the kisses and hugs you could have hoped she would give her. Finally calming down a little your mom looked back over to where you and Grayson were standing, “I’m so happy you two are here. How are you?”
Smiling back at her, “We’re really good, Mom. Really good.”
“That’s amazing to hear! Well don’t be strangers, Michael, Amanda, James, Tiff, and the kids are in the living room. Dinner should be ready in fifteen.” Your mom handed Dakota back to Grayson before walking back to the kitchen. Grayson looked at you with big eyes, this was already going better than he expected.
Deciding you should probably go catch up with your siblings, you and Grayson started towards the living area. When you walked in the fancy room, the conversation went quiet, Michael looking up to you with a sinister smile, your heart dropping.
“Well would you look what the cat dragged in,” Micael was always trying to be a funny guy, but in the end he was really just a raging asshole. Thinking on her feet, and trying to avoid a fight happening in front of a child, James’ wife, Tiffany, got up and walked over to Grayson, taking Dakota out of his arms.
She smiled over at you with sad eyes before looking back at Dakota, “Kota, how about we go find cousin Hannah, how about that, huh?” Dakota just nodded and rested her head on Tiffany’s chest. You were always thankful for the love James and his family showed you, and you were even more thankful Tiff cared enough about your daughter to make sure she didn’t hear the hateful things that were most likely going to go come out of Michael’s mouth.
You took a deep breath, looking to Grayson for reassurance before looking back to Michael, “Hi, Mike, Amanda.” Being the pretentious bitch she is, Amanda just laughed at your attempt to be civil. Michael’s smile only grew and that was starting to make Grayson mad.
“What makes you think you can just walk back in to mom and dad’s house with that boy and your kid after all these years, Y/N?” Michael always picked on you.
“Mom called and invited me, Mike. She wanted all of us together,” You squeaked out. He just laughed again.
“Too bad no one wanted you here, baby sister.” You looked to Grayson and you could tell he was getting angrier by the second. Finally, seeing you almost in tears, James spoke up.
“Can you stop being an asshole for two seconds? Mom wanted all of us here, Mike. Can’t you just be happy to see your sister for once?” Michael just scoffed, and would have probably let the conversation go on longer if your mom wouldn’t have walked in to tell the tension filled room that dinner was ready.
With a huff, everyone in the room got up and walked towards the play room where the kids were to get them ready for dinner. After grabbing Dakota, you and Grayson walked into the dinning room, only to be met with the missing man of the night, your father. His jaw clenched at the sight of you and his fist tightened at the sight of Grayson. Knowing you should say something to ease the tension you managed a whisper, “Hi, dad.”
“Nice to see you, Y/N.” He looked at you with disgust before nodding his head over to your upset husband, “Grayson.” Being the man Grayson was, he just gave your father a nod back.
“Well isn’t this just going to be a wonderful meal,” Michael spat out sarcastically. In all honestly though, you thought the same.
After everyone settled into their seats and got their food, things started to go smoother. James, Michael, and your father were talking about work, your mother and sister-in-laws were talking about god knows what, and you were talking to Grayson. That was until Michael decided to open his mouth again.
“So Grayson, are you still working at that run down car place, or did someone else have the nerve to hire you?” Grayson was shocked at the fact Michael was even talking to him. Talking a minute he finally replied.
“Uh, yeah, I own it, actually.” Your family’s heads all popped up after Grayson spoke, especially your father’s.
Michael composed his shock quickly before coming up with something witty to say, “You actually bought that dump? And you’re actually running it?”
“Randy, the previous owner, was good to me. When he retired he gave it to me and my brother. He wanted me to build a legacy of hard work for Dakota, and whatever kids we may have in the future. So yeah, I have it and yeah, I actually run it.” There were many things you could talk shit on Grayson about, but his family and his business were not one of them. He ran that business with everything he had, it was his livelihood and to hell with anyone who couldn’t respect what he had built.
Then it finally happened, your father opened his mouth. “And this ‘business’ if that's even what you want to call it, provides for your so called family?”
“Dad, what do you mean? Of course it’s a business. It brings home money to pay all the bills and then some, just like yours does.” You were extremely upset that the first few words your father decided to speak to you were hateful.
“Never, and I mean never, Y/N, compare my business to that junkyard your husband runs.”
“With all due respect, sir, they may be completely different types of businesses but they bring in money all the same.” Grayson was angry. He was angry at himself for allowing his family to even come tonight and he was angry at the disrespect you were receiving.
“Exactly, dad. That junkyard has given me the humble life I wanted. Grayson has provided for me. What’s the difference between what he is doing and what you did for mom, for us?” This was most definitely not a conversation for the dinner table.
“The difference is that it was built by me, not by some boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Not by a boy who is nothing but a piece of shit on the side of the highway.”
Hearing how much hate your father still had harbored for Grayson after all these years really put things into perspective. Your family really didn’t want you, and that really fucking sucked.
“Honey! That is no way to talk to your daughter or her husband! There are children around!” Your mom was furious about the way your father was treating you, just wanting her family to be whole again, just wanting to be apart of Dakota’s life.
“Shut up, Charlotte! You’ve done enough! Inviting her here, acting like everything is fine! Y/N is a disgrace, an absolute disgrace! I want her and her bastard family out. Now.” This caused protests from James.
“Dad, really? She's done nothing-”
“She’s done everything! I gave her everything and she gave it all up for a boy! I want her out of my house!”
The room fell silent as tears started to roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you whipped your cheeks with the cloth napkin and stood up. With no words you walked over to the kids table, picked up Dakota and started to walk out of the dining room. As you reached the doorway, Dakota spoke up, “Mommy, why don’t they love us?”
This took your breath away, and broke everyone's hearts in the dining room simultaneously. Trying to compose an answer, you took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know, baby, but I love you, so so much. Never forget that.”
Tears started falling down your mother’s face, as well as Grayson’s. He was still sitting at the table watching the whole situation unfold in front of him. He sat there at the table until he heard the front door close and then he stood up. Trying to be the big person, he started to walk out of the room, but the little devil on his shoulder was telling him to say something. Grayson turned around and looked at your father right in the eyes, “You do understand how incredibly messed up all of this is, right?”
Your father was shocked at Grayson’s tone. Taken back, “Pardon?”
Grayson rolled his eyes, “You know, hating your daughter for falling in love, hating your grand daughter because she came for love. Pretending to be this big man who deserves all the goddamn respect in the world but can’t even give it out in the slightest. Do you know how much Y/N loves you? Shit, she talks about you all the time, but I could bet a million dollars that she never crosses that selfish mind of yours.”
You could hear a pin drop, so Grayson continued, “When Dakota was born, I left to go get a sandwich and when I came back, Y/N was telling her about her grandparents and how much they were going to love her. That stupid rhino Charlotte got her is the only damn thing that gets Dakota to fall asleep. But neither one of you have been, or even tried to be in her life! And for her, a four year old to get the vibe her own family doesn’t love her makes me sick.”
No one had any words for Grayson, but he had many more to share. “You know, when Y/N first brought me home, you told me I didn’t deserve her. And in all honesty you were right, I don’t. There is not a damn person in the whole entire world that deserves that beautiful woman, but I’m sure as hell going to do everything in my power to give her and Dakota the lives they deserve. So, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my wife and daughter out for ice cream to try and mend the heart you broke.”
And Grayson did just that, because you were his girl, his first love. He wanted nothing but the best for you and Dakota, and if that meant feeding his four year old ice cream for dinner he'd do just that.
#grayson dolan#ethan dolan#grayson and ethan#dolan twins#dolan twins imagine#grayson dolan fic#my fic#fic#imagine
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Chaebols: Laid Back Pt3
Genre: Chaebols AU/ fluff
Length: 6.3k
cover edit by @lalahs85
It was Yan’s greatest gift that she was always organized. Each task was assigned a number based on its importance and she rarely needed to deviate from that list. She was solid, on top of things, and she thrived for it. She had taken this small branch and made it the most successful part of her father’s real-estate business. She was savage.
Then how was it she was losing control of her life. Yan was drowning, held down by the expectation’s others had for her future. For generations, the women in her family had been used as pawns to garner favor, make alliances, gain investors in order to keep Lin Industries prosperous. Yan had thought she would be the first to break this tradition. Her own mother had been given to her father as requirement for her grandfather to invest in the company.
And her mother was the biggest advocate for her marriage. The woman cared more about keeping tradition than her own daughter’s happiness.
Yan stood, too stunned to move, as Lay leaned forward and presented his business card to her brother. Shen immediately back tracked.
“Mr. Zhang, I’m so sorry you had to come in during our little tiff, as you should know our Yan is a complicated woman,” He bowed repeatedly to Yixing and Yan couldn’t believe it.
“I’m aware, I also know she’s completed the requirements so if you could exit my fiancé’s office, we have much to discuss.” Lay demanded, politeness in his words but venom in his voice.
Yan didn’t know he could be cold. He seemed so calm and warm when he spoke to her. Even after finding her after she had left him alone in her hotel room with no name, number or way to know who she was. Lay was kind and seemed happy to see her.
“Of course, Mr. Zhang, or should I call you brother-in-law now?” Shen was kissing his ass now, it was what his slimy ass did. He would try to get in good with Yixing to put himself in a position of influence.
“Mr. Zhang would be fine for now, Mr. Lin. We will see you again soon.” Lay left her side to take hold of the door and usher Shen out.
Yan was still in shock as Shen bowed repeatedly until he was out the door and Lay closed it in his face. He stood watching the door until he heard Shen walk away.
He turned back to Yan, “That boy is conspiring at this moment, you know that right.”
Yan finally looked to Lay, “No, no, no, this is not happening, you are Lay from the last day of a vacation I was forced to take. It was a good day, but its just a dream I can think back to. You are not here. Not in my office, not in my home. I’m dreaming this.”
Lay smiled, “Have you been dreaming about me Lin Yan.”
“I don’t believe you. You saw the note I left my date, thought you would make some kind of joke or use it to stalk me. You are not Zhang Yixing.” Yan refused to believe it.
Lay sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket, his fingers working quick on the screen. “Did you not do your research on your marriage dates?”
He handed the phone to her. On the screen was a picture of his, mother, father, and two older brothers and an older sister, and him the youngest son of the Zhang family.
“I’ve been working on acquiring an important property, I didn’t have time to look up the next playboy my parents wanted me to date.” Yan said as she read the article attached to the picture. “Besides, you still didn’t know who I was?”
Yixing, she had to admit it was him, took a seat in front of her desk waiting for her to finish the article.
“It’s not as dangerous for me. My mother is worried that I will waist my life away.” He explained as she handed the phone back and took the chair behind her desk. “You are the sixth woman from my mothers list of women who are suitable for me to marry.”
“You were four.” Yan told him, “but I’m not marrying you.”
“Yeah, that was just to get your brother out of here.”
“But you don’t understand what you’ve done. Shen will be on the phone with my parents already. The Zhang name will be too good for them to pass on. They will push. And if you were on my list and me on yours, my parents will make a deal with yours for us to be married.” Yan explained. They were done for. She would have to do everything to convince her parents not to force them to marry.
Yan didn’t want to get married at this point in her life. She didn’t know if she would ever want to be married. If she was able to get ahead of it and get Zhang Yixing to agree it was misunderstanding to her parents, then maybe they wouldn’t insist the two get married.
“We have to call my parents and tell them it was a mistake. You have to tell them it was a mistake, maybe they won’t become obsessed with me marrying a Zhang Group heir.” She demanded, picking up her phone and calling her father.
“Father,” she started, “yes, I’m sure you just got off the phone with Shen. That’s why I’m calling. Look, Zhang Yixing is an acquaintance of mine and he…”
“Shen had told us the wonderful news.” He said.
“Yes, but Shen was aggravating me, and Mr. Zhang was just trying to help me.”
“Did he not indicate that you two were engaged?” Her father asked.
“Yes, but I’m trying to tell you that Shen misunderstood the situation. No, there is no marriage proposal.” Yan insisted
“Is he with you now, I would like to speak with him?”
“Yes, father,” she sighed handing the phone to Yixing, “he wants you to speak with him.”
Yan prayed he would convince her father that it was just a mistake. No marriage, she mouthed to him.
He took the phone, “Zhang Yixing… Hello sir, it’s nice to finally speak with you…Yes, I’ve known Yan for several months, and I’m quite fond of her. Did she now… I don’t know why she would tell you that… I’m very interested in marriage. My family would be happy to welcome Lin Yan as a daughter.”
Zhang Yixing played right into her fathers’ hands. It was sickening. Any illusions she had about Lay were gone now. Good-bye handsome beach boy, good-bye sweet smile and cute dimple. Good-bye sand and sun and staying up all night talking about everything.
Her beautiful memories were gone, ruined by reality and a rich, entitled, jack-ass who now saw fit to bully his way into her life.
She would spend the rest of that life making sure he was miserable.
“Of-course we want to get this done quickly, but Yan and I would like just a little time to get to know each other better,” Yixing told her father, “Just a couple of weeks, then we can get deeper in the wedding details.”
Yan thought she was going to pass out. They were conspiring right in front of her face to marry her off. She thought about sticking her finger down her throat. It was childish and petty, not like her at all, but if this was now her life was going to be, she was going to get petty, pretty damn fast. She should have known Lay, no Yixing, wouldn’t be any different than her family or the list of brainless mutants her parents had her dating. This was a nightmare. She was stuck, forever as a puppet for her family.
“It was a pleasure speaking with you as well. One last thing before we go, could I ask for you to keep Yan’s brother away for a while. He seems to stress her out quite a bit. I don’t want her to worry about what he is up to. I would like her attention to be focused on me for the next couple of weeks. You can do that? Thank you. You are truly a generous man… yes, sir…I look forward to meeting you in person as well… You have a good day, sir.”
He handed the phone back to Yan, a satisfied look on his face.
“Father?”
“A Zhang, my daughter I’m so proud of you.” Her father said, something she had never heard out of his mouth before, in her life. “This is just what the company needs. You will marry this man without complaint, do you understand me. This is better than we could have hoped.”
Yan sighed, she wanted to cry, “Yes, Father.”
She finished her call and hung up the phone, turning her anger to Yixing. He stood, hands in his pockets staring out of her window. That silence loomed for several minutes. Yan was afraid if she opened her mouth, she could tell this man off.
Screw that, he deserved it! Yan would be the one to give him a swift kick in the ass.
“How could you? Just what do you think you’re going to gain from this? My family is not nearly as influential as yours…”
“Enough time for you to figure something out.” His eyes continued its scan of the city, “You have a nice view from this floor. I can see Kyungsoo and Jun’s buildings from here.”
“Who’s that… wait… what do you mean ‘enough time’?”
He faced her then. “Well you don’t really plan on marrying me, do you? This will give you a couple of weeks to work, free of distractions. Isn’t that what you said you wanted that night at the resort, the best vacation you could ask for was from your meddling family. Afterwards, we call stall until we can figure out how to stop your father from marrying you off.”
“You’re trying to help me?”
Yixing turned back to the window. “All this time, I’ve been within blocks of you and never knew it.”
“Mr. Zhang, can you focus?”
“It’s Lay, or Yixing.”
Lay or Yixing. That was an easy choice for Yan. Lay didn’t exist to her anymore. He was body snatched by this…this… what the hell was this guy?
Yan sighed. “Yixing, you really seem to have misunderstood the situation. My father… he won’t accept anything less than a Zhang son-in-law now. There will be no convincing him otherwise.
Yixing remained silent, his eyes fixed on the view from her window. What the hell was out there? Yan was growing annoyed, definitely angry. She couldn’t read him. Yixing stood, arms crossed, this thumb and forefinger pinching the center of his lower lip as he focused on another world on the far side of the glass pane.
“Yixing!” Yan was losing her patience.
“I’m okay with that.” He dropped his arms dropped to his side and he faced her.
“How could you be okay with that?”
“Look,” he said, taking the seat in front of her desk. “My mom is worried about me. He thinks I have no drive, and maybe I don’t. She wants a new daughter, maybe some more grandkids. She wants to know I’m taken care of. I don’t like it when my mother worries. I’m not interested in a woman who has no interest in me, but it doesn’t matter if it’s you or another woman from my list, I’m going to get married. I like you, marrying you would be better than any of the girls I’ve dated so far, and you being part of the Zhang family will be extremely beneficial for you.” Yixing explained.
“Yeah, I don’t have plans for my own life. I’m just here to benefit the Lin family name.” Yan spat.
“Who said the Zhang’s will benefit the Lin family. As far as I see, your family uses you, and I don’t think that’s right. As my wife you would have the support of me and my family, you could do whatever you wanted.” He explained.
“Look Lay, Yixing whatever your name is, I don’t need your family to accomplish anything. I became the director of this branch by myself.”
“From how it looks to me you got here cause your father was trying to keep you out of his hair until he could marry you off.” Yixing explained, “Why keep putting up with this?”
Yan sighed, it was a point she didn’t want to see. “I worked my ass off to get here Mr. Zhang. I put in three times the work my brothers did to get this position. I deserve to be here.”
“Don’t call me that, my name is Yixing or Lay, and I’m not disagreeing with you. I’ve seen my sister work herself crazy to keep the position she has at our company. She likes what she does. I think you do to. I just want to help you.” Yixing folded his hands in front of his. His calm demeanor pissed Yan off.
“You don’t know me.”
“No, but I want to. More than anything. All of this, our night together months ago, being on each other’s lists, it seems… I don’t know… like kismet.”
Yixings lips turned up into that smile, that sweet crooked smile that gave her the perfect view of his dimple. It was a little peek of Lay, his kind eyes, his honied smile. It made her want to believe. There was a sincerity in his voice. Yan didn’t want to get married, but she couldn’t help but wonder what a future with Yixing would look like. Would he be supportive, or would he hold her back…be a calming force or be the source of stress for her? She had a feeling it was all the above.
Lay made Yan want to dream, and that made Yixing dangerous.
“What if I don’t want your help?” she steamed.
“Then I’ll apologize for having complicated your life. Tell your father I’ve changed my mind, and marry some vapid, self-centered heiress who gets on my nerves instead of the woman who peaks my interest and invades my every thought.” He admitted.
“Ohh, so smooth.” Yan mocked him.
“Not smooth, just honest. Think about it Yan. I think we could make this work.”
“It won’t.”
How could it? Yixing wasn’t the only one who remembered their conversation from that night. They were different, Yixing the equator, Yan the poles. Hot and cold. Yan didn’t have a problem admitting she was a workaholic. Work didn’t feel like work because she loved it. Yixing liked his leisure. He only worked when he felt like it, choosing to spend most of his time traveling, staying in hotels and resort and overall not accomplishing anything.
It had been endearing in the beach boy who made the last day of her imposed vacation memorable. But in a perspective husband, the man she would spend the rest of her life with, it was a nightmare. He was laid back and she was uptight, how could that ever work?
“There’s no way to know that.” He countered. “And there is no point in worrying about it right now. You have the vacation you’ve always wanted. I was at least able to get that for you. I’ll keep everyone at bay for that time. Enjoy it and we will figure everything out later.”
Yixing stood again, buttoning his suit jacket. Yan smiled. The move gave him an air of professionalism that he didn’t normally exude. It was cute.
Yan sighed, “Yixing…”
“Two weeks. Think about it and talk to me then. I’m in this for you, because I like you, not your family. Think about it.”
He pulled out his wallet, brandishing his business card, holding it out to her. Yan hesitated, but if he had done all this for her, the least she could do was think about it as he requested.
She came around the desk and accepted his card. White with blue lines passing through the Zhang Group logo covered the top left corner, while Zhang Yixing, Consultant, and his number covered the bottom right. It was a good design, simple, efficient. Yan was impressed and her attention was focused on that stupid card, and not on the man who inched closer. So close she noticed his body heat before his proximity.
Yan gulped as her eyes came level with his lips, soft and pink. There was no smile gracing those lips. There was something in the set of his jaw that had Yan’s stomach flipping. Yixing took a deep breath, seeming to inhale her. It was heady, powerful and intoxicating.
Fool.
The thought ran through her head, but only a name passed her lips.
“Yixing.”
His own lips parted as he angled his face down. Their eyes met.
This is a mistake you idiot. She cursed, but Yan was unable to stop herself. As-much-as she wanted to fight it, pretend it wasn’t there, hew drew her in. His presence made her lightheaded and weak.
“I thought I made you up at first,” he whispered, “almost had myself convinced. Only my friends remembered you too.”
Every word seemed to steal more of her breath away. She felt dizzy.
“I don’t know what it is, but you affect me like no one else does.”
She could say the same. No one else had ever left her as shaken and breathless as this man. The logical part of her brain told her to run, he was trouble for her ordered, tidy life. The other part of Yan, however, told her she may not ever feel this way again.
Run with it, not from it.
“Are you going to disappear with my heart again?”
Yan shook her head slightly, “This is my home, I have nowhere else to go.”
“Good.” Yixing’s hands captured her face as his lips brushed against hers.
Run with it.
Yan leaned into Yixing, with a sigh. She couldn’t lie, this was something Yan had thought about frequently in the last few months. The softness of this lips as the played over hers, the way he somehow still smelled of the sun and the beach, and now his fingers lingered just flush with the skin of her cheeks. It was all exhilarating.
Each tug at her lips, each caress of his tongue convinced Yan that this man was dangerous. Yixing’s hands moved down her body, resting on her hips, drawing her closer.
Yan wanted to be closer.
Her arms snaked around his neck, pressing into him, opening up to him. But he pulled his lips away from hers, both struggling to catch their breaths. Yan didn’t want to let go, for a moment she was back at her hotel room. She wasn’t ready for the memory to fade back into her bleak reality.
Yixing rested his forehead against hers. “We are part of each other’s lives now, Yan. I won’t let you walk away from me a third time.”
Yan was uncharacteristically speechless. She wanted to deny it, but she felt connected to him as well. It couldn’t be purely coincidence they had found each other again.
“I’ll be what ever you need, your husband, or just a friend you come to when you need something. So, don’t ask me to pretend we never met. I don’t think I could do that now even if I wanted.”
She moved away, leveling her eyes with his. “Okay.”
Yan couldn’t bring herself to fight it.
“Two weeks,” he said as he backed away. “If they mess with you before then, text me and I will take care of it.”
She nodded.
He smiled, “Goodbye, Lin Yan.”
“Goodbye.” Yan whispered as he walked out of her office.
The man was good at his word. For two weeks there were no calls from her mother, no visits from Shen and the only calls she received from her father or older brother Xiang was purely work related.
There was radio silence from Yixing.
Yan pretended it didn’t bother her, but she caught herself more often than not staring at her phone, waiting for his name to grace the screen. It did not.
Yan did, however, get a surprising visit from a couple of other beach boys from her vacation.
She squealed as Minseok grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet, swinging her around.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Yan said wrapping Jongdae in a hug.
“When Lay said he found you we wanted to see it for ourselves.” Minseok followed Yan across the room, taking the seat she offered. “So, this is the real you?”
Yan laughed, “It is, pant suit and all.”
“Our Chyou is just as hot in a pant suit as she was in a bikini.” Jongdae teased, “But I guess that’s not your real name. Lin Yan. That fits better.”
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think it was a good idea to give my real name to strangers when I was on vacation alone. Plus, I kind of own that resort.”
“Well you’ll fit right in with the rest of us. Our whole group is big business.” Minseok laughed.
“Whole group? How many of you are there?”
Jongdae chimed in, “Kyungsoo got married right before we went on vacation, so with Jae-Eun, that makes ten of us now.”
Minseok explained their history. Going to the same schools, becoming friends, and how they were all so different, but somehow, they all just clicked. They were family now, more than friends.
Yan thought if any of them were like Yixing, Minseok or Jongdae, she would be happy to get acquainted. These men were so easy to talk to. Conversation flowed effortlessly with them, where Yan usually had a problem talking about anything but her work.
She worried some. When she turned Yixing down, would he disappear from her life, would he take his friends with him? There was so much conflict in Yan’s heart. She didn’t want to marry Yixing. There was no scenario that Yan could see it working out. But she liked him, she like these men. Yan didn’t want the friendship to end before it even began.
While Minseok was telling her about their other friends, Jongdae drifted over to her window. He was quieter than he had been when they first met. Like Yixing, his focus was on the view outside her window.
“He seems different than before,” she mused as Minseok noticed him.
Minseok sighed, worry drawing his lips into a frown. “He’s going through a lot right now. He has a right to be different. He’ll come through it though.”
Minseok’s hushed tone and sad eyes made Yan feel it was more complicated than he made it appear.
As if he had heard the exchange, Jongdae spoke up. “Did Yixing see this view?”
“Yeah, he stared out that window almost the entire time he was here. What is it about that damn window that’s so interesting?”
Jongdae held his hand out to her. “Come here, I’ll show you.”
Yan and Minseok made their way to the window. Yan slipped her hand into Jongdae’s and he placed her in the spot he was standing.
He pointed to the left, “See that tall dark building, just a couple of blocks down? That’s Kyungsoo’s building. He is the CEO of the Ganghan Company. Sehun run’s his fashion line in that building, and Yixing has an office there because he is Kyungsoo’s consults for Ganghan sometimes. Just to the right further down, that’s Jongin’s building, he works for his dad there.”
Jongdae turned her to look straight across, “On the other side of that block is Jun’s building. Just south of this block, right out of sight, is my company. Min’s family’s company is several blocks west of here.”
Yan turned back to him confused.
“Don’t you see? You’re surrounded by us. Lay was looking for you for five months, and you have been smack in the middle of us. I can’t imagine he took that well.”
Yan stepped away from the window. It was all too much. God, she just wanted her life to go back to normal. She didn’t want to be contemplating a marriage or thinking about a sweet-faced man who looked for her for months.
“My parents want me to get married,” She confided. “Yixing was on my list. That’s how he found me. His mother wants him to marry as well.”
Minseok’s eyes grew larger, “That sounds like Mama Zhang. What are you going to do?”
She turned back to her desk, running her hands over her face. “Yixing told my dad that we were engaged. He’s trying to buy me time to figure out how to stop it.”
“You don’t want to marry?” Jongdae turned back to the window.
“Not now. I’m not sure if ever. I’ve worked so hard to get here. I like what I do. I don’t have time to worry about maintaining a marriage. It’s not that I don’t like Yixing…”
“Did he suggest you actually marry each other?” Minseok interrupted.
Yan nodded. “He thinks it’s a good idea. He worked it out so that I had two-weeks without my family meddling. But he said if I wasn’t interested that he would help me find another way to stop my parents from marrying me off.”
Yan was completely lost. Yixing was doing so much for her. He didn’t have to get involved. Part of her still questioned why. He didn’t know her. What reason could he have for getting himself stuck in the middle of her family squabble.
Jongdae finally moved away from the window and joined them around the desk. “I’ve never heard Hyung talk about marriage before.”
“Me either,” Minseok agreed.
“I don’t know what to do. He’s been great. He’s kept his word, but I just don’t see how this will work out. It’s a disaster.”
Minseok leaned across her desk, taking a hold of her hand. “You have to make your own choice, don’t let anyone else do it for you. But I can tell you, Lay will respect whatever decision you make.”
“Thanks guys,” Yan hadn’t spoken to anyone about it. She liked her privacy, but since they knew him better than she did…
Minseok changed the subject and they chatted for a while. About the other guys, Kris and Amy had gotten married, Luhan had gotten a promotion, and Tao had started working for his family.
Yan remembered being envious of Amy. Kris looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. His love for her was evident in every glance, every smile. She had never thought about relationships much. She dated, had a couple of short-lived boyfriends, but she never figured a relationship into her final equation.
For a moment, seeing them, she almost regretted that choice. What must it be like to feel that deeply about someone? But it was a fleeting moment. Yan always knew what she wanted, and a complicated relationship would get in the way of her dreams. She always kept it casual, making sure the person was aware that she wouldn't be locked down.
Now she was expected to do it just to be able to continue toward that dream.
She wouldn't be forced, and she refused to be part of a game of thrones. Yan had to find a way to stop this marriage. Her mind was made, and it wouldn’t be changed.
When her two weeks was up, Yan had a solid resolve. She would make it clear that she valued a friendship with Yixing, but marriage was out of the question. He would likely be the easier to convince than her parents.
But a line had to be drawn somewhere. The problem now was what it would take to get her parents to let this go. Getting married had to be the last resort.
It was time to see Yixing.
Not a word from him for almost the entire two weeks. The last morning, she received a text asking her to meet him at his office in the Ganghan building, at her convenience.
Talking to the man your parents were trying to marry you off to would never really be convenient, but she took the afternoon off and trudge's the few blocks to his office. She needed the walk since the past 14 days had been busy. With her family out of her way, she was able to accomplish loads more work. There were no calls, "Yan, what are you doing? You can’t low ball the seller like that… you are going to insult… you don’t know how to negotiate properly… you don’t know the true value of a property…"
Soon followed by, " well that was just a lucky guess… who knew there were complications that could drive down the price… the seller knew we would catch those… I can’t believe they actually negotiated with you…"
Yan's family always underestimated her. Would it be that hard to acknowledge she had skills?
Yeah, because then they would have to admit she was better than them.
And that was an astronomical impossibility. There was no way she studied the tips and hard in school, busted her ass in Uni, worked twice as many hours as Xiang or Shen and actually knew the in's and out's of real estate. She knew a good property when she saw one, could find quality work for a good price, and create an investment property that was successful.
No, her worth lay in her ring finger.
She confirmed her arrival with the assistant on the first level and rode the elevator more than two times as many floors as her building to get to Yixing's office.
He stood outside in the hall way, another man and woman huddled around him.
Yan's breath caught in her throat. Yixing looked like something out of a dream. His hair was styled back, and he was dressed in a navy business suit. His tie was held down with a silver clip.
He had the air of a business man. If she hadn't seen him in board shorts on a sandy beach with the sun in his windblown hair, she would have believed he was a business man.
Something the woman said brought a smile to his face and Yan stopped in her place. Yixing genuinely like this woman. He looked at her like he looked at his friends at the beach. She was more than an acquaintance, she meant something to him. Yan didn’t think it was a romantic feeling, but she was still forced to clear the jealously from her throat.
When Yixing saw her, his eyes lit up. Yan fixed a professional smile on her face and step forward and his he motioned for her to come closer.
"Miss Lin, I'm so glad your here." Yixing's smile was infectious, " This is one of my best friends, Do Kyungsoo and his wife Lee Jae-Eun. They own this building. This is Lin Yan."
The couple Minseok had spoken of.
The woman, Jae-Eun, reached for her hand clasping it warmly.
"It’s wonderful to actually meet you. Yixing has spoken very highly of you."
"Thank you."
The man bowed slightly, "Hyung says you are in real-estate."
" Yes, luxury resorts." She replied.
He smiled with ridiculously plump lips and extended his hand, "Hotels and malls, been thinking about resorts."
Yan shook it, "Then I would have to tell you how horrible the work is. No point in us being competitors."
The large eyes turned into half-moons as he smiles larger, a deep chuckle emanating from the man’s throat. “She’s clever, Hyung.”
Yan turned back to Jae-Eun, "Are all of Yixing’s friends as attractive as the two of you? Minseok and Jongdae, are stupidly attractive as well."
Why are you schmoozing his friends? I mean it's not a lie, though.
Jae-Eun leaned into her whispering, "Every single one of them, just wait till you see all nine of them together."
Yan laughed, then noticed the smile on Yixing lips. He seemed pleased she was getting along with his friends. Her nerves rolled into a ball in her stomach. She was about to steal that happiness from him.
The fact bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Yixing excused themselves to his office. It was an impressive size, tidy and well lit. Yan liked it. The more of Yixing she saw, the more she found she had in common with him. That made things even more complicated.
Yixing sat at a little meeting area in front of his desk and motioned for her to sit.
“You actually have and office. What does a perpetual vacationer need with an office?”
The corner of his lips turned up. “I may vacation frequently, but that’s not why I was there that day. I was scouting your resort. Ganghan has been considering a line of resorts for some time now. I was doing research on some of the most popular resorts in the area for Kyungsoo. But hey, it’s a free vacation, how could I not bring my friends?”
Point made.
“I may be the youngest son of a rich family, but I do have some aspirations.” He teased, “so, you’ve decided against the marriage.”
Yan’s eyes narrowed. “How did you come to that conclusion.”
Yixing laughed. “Come on Yan, you were pretty against marriage in general. I can’t imagine you changed your mind just because it’s me. So that means we need to figure out a way to get out of this and stop your parents from marrying you off.”
“I don’t know how this will work. It’s tradition in my family to marry the woman off for financial or political favor. It’s archaic, but it’s how they operate. I don’t know how to get out of it.” She sighed.
“Well we could make me look bad, but you parents would just move on to another man. They obviously know you are successful enough on your own and it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Ruining your reputation would only hurt your business and you and being horrible to the candidates won’t make much of a difference, eventually someone won’t care about your personality and just see the alliance or benefit of the marriage. Have you come up with any ideas?”
“Yes, I flee the country, continent even. Do you think Elon Musk has space on that ship to Mars?” Yan laughed in a sad attempt to mask her hopelessness.
Yixing chuckled. They seemed to have an easy comradery. She felt that even on the first day. And even with this looming over them, they could joke and laugh with each other. Still, she couldn’t marry a man she had only met three times.
Before he could answer, a little pop-diddy chimed from his cell phone.
“That would be your mom…” he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered. “Mama Lin, how are you today. Why… yes, I have. We had coffee earlier, She’s with me now. Talk to her?”
His eyes met Yan’s as she shook her head profusely.
“Now you know the deal. I have one more day before you get her back. I don’t want to go back on my word here. That wouldn’t fair well for me.”
How long had this been going on? He’d been talking to mom?
“Now as much as I would love to keep talking, I’m afraid I really have to get back to my date… Good to hear from you… Goodbye Mama Lin.”
Yixing hung up, shoving the phone back into his pocket and turning his attention back to her. His smile faded at the look on her face. “What?”
“You’ve been talking to my mom?”
Yixing stood, “How do you think I kept her from calling you? She called me, almost daily, and I gave her little stories about our dates and time together. This way she wouldn’t get it in her head to harass you during the last two weeks.”
He stepped behind his desk, pulling a stack of papers from a drawer.
“I asked Kyungsoo’s secretary to make copies of the conversations so that you know what was said.” He came back to her, handing her the stack of papers. “Just in case your mom cross examines you.
Yan glanced through the sheets as he spoke. Yixing had been thorough. There were lunches, dinners, movies, picnics, phone calls late at night. Each conversation had pages of notes attached, what they ate, his opinion, her opinion, what movie was seen, the synopsis, their opinions. There wasn’t a detail missing. This had taken time. A lot of it. While she was enjoying the time alone, he was formulating, making fake plans, making real plans for when she would eventually tell him she turned down his proposal.
Her heart ached. He’d done all of this for her. Hours of preparation to fool her parents and allow her to have some peace. Yixing did this knowing she wouldn’t marry him.
“Okay,” the word barely came out. It was the smallest of whispers, only to herself.
She had come here to turn him down, but seeing this, knowing that he would go through all of this to help her. It was kind of convincing. This man could just possibly be her only hope.
“Okay,” she said louder, before she could stop herself.
Yixing went silent, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Okay, what?”
Yan focused on his face, that kind face, and came to one conclusion.
“I’ll marry you.”
Yixing’s eyes grew ten sizes larger. “You will? Are you sure?”
Absolutely not.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He watched her, looking for any sign. Was it a joke, was she in shock?
“I’m scared,” she admitted, “but, I’m sure. If you still think it’s a good idea?”
He nodded, “I do.”
“Then I’ll marry you.”
#yixing#yixing fic#Yixing fanfic#yixing fanfiction#yixing series#yixing scenario#yixing x oc#Lay#lay fic#layfanfic#lay fanfiction#lay series#lay scenario#lay x oc#exo#exo fanfic#exo fanfiction#exo scenarios#exo series#exo x oc#jongin#chanyeol#jongdae#minseok#sehun#baekhyun x oc#kyungsoo#junmyeon#d.o.#kai
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‘Repeating History’ Chapter 8: Epilogue
FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?
Author’s Note: Well, this is it, y'all! Sorry again for the previous chapter. I'd be surprised if anyone even reads this last chapter, as I'm sure everyone has abandoned this fic lol. I won't be making a decision like that again, but it was necessary to demonstrate the whole star-crossed lovers aspect.
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1895
Sherlock Holmes checked his pocket watch for the time, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. His eyes drifted to the photo beneath the lid. Molly Hooper’s eyes stared back at him. It was from one of the many copies of the photo that had been taken by the press the day she left. He missed her so much that his heart ached consistently. It was now a year since that horrific night at Musgrave Hall.
H.H. Holmes had been captured only hours after they had found Molly. The man was deranged, and Sherlock wished he could claim no relation to such a monster. He eyed the letter that had arrived earlier that morning, his name written on the envelope in Molly’s hand. It had been delivered posthumously as if she had known what would have become of her. Sherlock had tried to avoid it all bloody day, but a voice—Molly’s—encouraged him to open it.
“Go on,” she would say in his mind palace. “Open it. For me.”
How could he say no? Reluctantly, he snatched the letter, broke the seal, and began reading the contents.
Sherlock, my love,
I am sorry for the tiff we had. Lately, I have been dreaming of the strangest things and thinking dark thoughts. It could be my paranoia, but, Sherlock…I think I am going to die. I fear I may never see you again, though I will try. I wish to make up with you, but if we are not to have the chance, then I want to say that I understand. I know you love me, my darling, but I also know you were not ready. Had we had all the time in the world, we could have really built a life together. I am not sure where to go from here, but what I do know is this: our souls shall meet again and we will be legendary, you and I. My soul knows yours, and I believe we are destined for one another, but not in this life. We will find our way back to one another. I love you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and I always will.
With all my love,
Molly
Sherlock smiled to himself. He normally did not believe in star-crossed lovers, but in this one case, he knew it to be true for at least him and Molly. In his heart, he knew that they would meet again in another life…and he could not wait to be reacquainted.
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2017
“This was a fantastic idea,” Molly smiled, unable to keep herself from spinning freely around the room, admiring every detail of the cottage’s interior.
Sherlock, preparing cups of tea, replied, “Didn’t I tell you I’d come through?” He enjoyed seeing her face light up when he brought her to the cottage. It was even more satisfying to make love in nearly every room with her after he told her he had bought it for them to escape to when a break from their fast-paced lives in London was needed.
“You did, and I love it,” she beamed, approaching him, her arms wrapping around his waist. Molly pressed a kiss to his chest, where his heart beat quickened slightly at her touch.
“And I love you,” Sherlock told her softly, wrapping his arms around her. “I always have.” He savored the quiet, blissful moment until the mysterious envelope that had found its way to him at 221B was in his view. He had put off showing it to her for days, but figured it was time. “Molly, did I ever tell you that you left me a letter? Well, in our past lives.”
“No,” she frowned in confusion. “What’s it say?”
Sherlock nudged his head toward the table by the front door. Curiosity got the best of Molly, and she left his side to investigate. She picked up the envelope that had Sherlock’s name written across it, and noted the signs of age on the paper as she opened it. Her eyes were wide with amazement.
“Read it,” Sherlock encouraged her with a smile.
“Sherlock, my love,” Molly began, unable to keep from smiling herself. “I am sorry for the tiff we had. Lately, I have been dreaming of the strangest things and thinking dark thoughts. It could be my paranoia, but, Sherlock…I think I am going to die.” She paused, remembering the documents they had found where Sherlock’s mum found the old photo. Old newspaper articles about Molly’s cause of death were brought to light.
Noticing her hesitance, Sherlock spoke up. “Go on.”
Molly took a deep breath and read some more. “I fear I may never see you again, though I will try. I wish to make up with you, but if we are not to have the chance, then I want to say that I understand. I know you love me, my darling, but I also know you were not ready. Had we had all the time in the world, we could have really built a life together.”
She sat upon the sofa to finish the rest, Sherlock joining her with their cups of tea he had made. “May I?” he asked, volunteering to finish reading the letter. Molly passed it into his waiting hand. “I am not sure where to go from here, but what I do know is this: our souls shall meet again and we will be legendary, you and I. My soul knows yours, and I believe we are destined for one another, but not in this life. We will find our way back to one another. I love you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and I always will.”
“We found each other,” Molly told him, her eyes meeting his. “Let’s not waste any more time.”
Confused by her latter statement, Sherlock furrowed his brows in confusion. Molly reached inside the inside pocket of his coat, lying over the back of the sofa, and retrieved a velvet adorned box.
“Yes,” she told him.
Dumbstruck that she knew his secret, Sherlock’s jaw dropped ever so slightly. “Yes?” he asked, unsure of what had just happened.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she smiled brightly. “If I wait around until you deem it to be the perfect moment, we’ll never get anywhere.”
It was true. For months, Sherlock had carried this ring around with him, apparently not escaping Molly’s notice. Every time he felt the moment to be perfect, something came along and ruined it.
“Marry me, Molly Hooper,” he said softly. “Give me a new adventure. I want it all with you, but mostly, I just want you.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she joked, handing him the box.
Sherlock lifted the vintage engagement ring from the satin lining, and took her hand in his. “I’ve waited over a century for this moment,” he quipped, sliding the ring on her finger where it would forever remain.
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Happy Valentine's Day, love!! Hope I'm not too late to request some - ⚡️ - person a and b get into a fight before valentine’s, and both spend the entire day trying to make up with each other. (obv I'm walking into slight angst territory here but I trust you!)
Well, this took me all day. But here it is! It’s not TOO angsty ;)
⚡️ - person a and b get into a fight before valentine’s, and both spend the entire day trying to make up with each other.
canon insert | rated T | 2.2k | valentine’s day prompts
Emma had been looking forward to Valentine’s Day, which was still something she was getting used to, but in the good way. She’d never take for granted the fact that she had someone to celebrate it with forever—someone who was particularly prone to grand romantic gestures, even if she’d told him she didn’t need or want anything over the top.
(She was kind of hoping they’d have another little someone to share the day with, since Henry had left a few months ago and the house was feeling much too empty, but...no luck there yet.)
But her anticipation was replaced with apprehension when she came downstairs that morning, festively dressed in her red leather jacket, only to find Killian sneaking in the back door, head down.
“Hey, what were you doing out there?”
“Um, taking out the trash,” he lied, avoiding her gaze as he moved toward the coffee pot.
“You wanna try that again?”
“Don’t worry about it, love.”
Her mind flashed back to the time he was keeping the shears of fate in the shed out back, and then the situation with the dreamcatcher. They’d moved past both of those, and she trusted him, but something just felt...off. It wasn’t like him to keep anything from her anymore.
“What if I want to worry about it?” she countered, stepping toward him as he poked at buttons on the machine without getting anywhere.
“Is a man not allowed to keep anything hidden around here?” he threw back, just a hint of anger in his voice. “I promise you, Emma—it’s nothing.” I’ll…” he trailed off, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Why are you being so evasive?” Tired of him toying with the coffee pot, she reached over and turned it on.
He tossed his head back, exasperated, and sighed. “I’m not; you’re the one seeing danger where there is none.”
“Well it’s nice that you’re able to not constantly be on guard. Sorry I can’t just shut it off like you can.” Not waiting for his reaction, she stormed off.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
“Apparently, someone has to keep an eye on this town. I’m headed to work; I’ll see you later.”
She kind of didn’t care if the door slammed behind her. What the hell was he doing?
Killian gave a long, low exhale after the door crashed shut. It wasn’t the first meaningless, random spat they’d had lately; they were both anxious for their family to grow, and perhaps subconsciously, their lack of success in that area was getting to both of them.
He hadn’t meant to be short with her, but all he was doing was trying to keep her away from one of the Valentine’s surprises he’d prepared; surely, that wasn’t worth jumping down his throat?
But they both had a long history of betrayal, even between each other, even if they’d progressed far beyond that point. He couldn’t completely fault her suspicion. Still—it stung.
The coffee pot beeped as the brew finished, with one final gurgle that echoed in the silence of the room. Reluctantly, he pulled a mug from a cabinet and poured himself a cup, but then he realized: Emma didn’t have any yet. Or, judging from the untouched box of Pop Tarts on the counter, anything to eat.
She may have said she was going to work, but he knew she wouldn’t get that far without sustenance, so there was only one place she could be headed.
He dug his phone from his rear pocket, pulled up the number, and dialed.
Emma’s anger had cooled a bit on the walk to Granny’s—probably in proportion to her growing hunger and need for caffeine. She really hadn’t meant to go off on him like that; it was probably nothing. Maybe she was just more stressed than she thought? Or maybe just hangry.
The smell of coffee and maple syrup hit Emma as soon as she opened the door to the diner and her mouth was watering.
Emma had barely sat down at the counter when Granny was in front of her, setting down a plate in front of her. “One order of pancakes, with bacon on the side, for Mrs. Swan-Jones,” she announced. “And the coffee is almost done.”
“Thanks,” Emma replied, slightly stunned. “Am I just that predictable now?”
“Eh,” Granny shrugged. “I had warning you were on the way.”
Emma slumped over her breakfast a bit. “He called?”
“Yep. You two fight or something?”
“Yeah, something,” Emma sighed as she cut into the stack of pancakes. “It’s dumb.”
“So I take it he’s not going to be joining you?”
“No, probably not,” she answered. Granny slid over a mug of fresh coffee; Emma took a long gulp, even with it still being hot. “But...can you help me doing something for him?”
“Of course, darlin’.”
After a brief stop at the station, managing to slip in and out before Emma got in, Killian made his way to the docks. The weather was going to be dry enough to get some work done on the ship this week, and with today being unseasonably warm, he decided this would be the perfect time to start. He just needed to double-check some measurements before he bought new sailcloth and rope for rigging first.
That, and working with his hands would give him some more time to calm down from their tiff—or distract himself from his shame at losing his temper.
He wandered up to the quarterdeck when he got to the ship and was about to re-inspect the section where the ropes were getting worn, but before he could get there, a bundle sitting on the helm caught his attention.
Tied up with bright red ribbon was a hefty length of rope and what looked to be the exact cut of cloth he needed. A tag was hanging from the knot of the ribbon; it looked a bit watery, as if it had been laying outside overnight and was mottled by the morning dew. But in unmistakeable handwriting, it said “You put the wind in my sails. Happy Valentine’s!
He reached into his jacket pocket; sure enough, the notes he’d made with rough measurements listed was gone—but this looked like more than enough for what he needed. Perhaps he needed some lessons from Emma on being sneaky—though he certainly had a few surprises up his sleeve for later.
For now, he had to get to work, if only so he could get to those faster.
Emma couldn’t say she was looking forward to a day of working on her own, but Valentine’s was usually quiet enough that they’d decided to just have one person in today, and she knew how much Killian wanted to make those repairs on his ship. She just really hoped those notes of his were right; she’d erred on the side of caution and bought more when she hit the supply shop yesterday.
Hopefully, he was enjoying himself there; she probably would be bored out of her mind in the empty station, but she couldn’t begrudge him the nice day to be by the sea, especially if they needed a bit of time apart, as they apparently did.
She unlocked the front door and shuffled in like always, flipping on the light to the bullpen and then her office once she slipped inside.
The light overhead shined down like a spotlight onto her desk—or, rather, what was on it: a huge, gorgeous bouquet of roses in a stunning glass vase. Her jaw dropped.
Almost cautiously, she stepped toward them—this was still Storybrooke, after all. She plucked the card that was tucked into the center of the arrangement and was immediately awash in the light, powdery fragrance they gave off—there had to be close to three dozen stems there.
The card bore her name on the front in Killian’s flourishing handwriting. On the other side, he’d written “I gave you one of these on our first date; I’ve done a poor job of keeping up the tradition. Hopefully this covers it and then some. All my love, Killian.”
How had she found such a perfect romantic sap? She stuck her whole face in the flowers then, almost getting high on the scent. She caught a tiny whiff of something slightly musty, too, but familiar.
It smelled like the storage shed. Shit. She’d practically attacked him for trying to hide what he’d clearly intended to be a surprise. God, she was an asshole. She had to make this up to him. She had a few things planned...but what else could she do?
A few hours later, Killian was halfway up the rigging, setting up new lines, when a voice called out.
“Ahoy! Permission to board?”
He nearly jumped at the sound, which would have resulted in a rather unpleasant fall were his reflexes not still trained to grab the nearest piece of rope at the slightest jolt. But it was just Granny.
“Of course, milady,” he shouted back, then carefully made his way back to semi-solid ground. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“To your wife,” she replied, holding out a take-out bag. He could smell the onion rings from here. “She figured you’d be working too hard to remember lunch and wanted to make sure you ate.”
He took the bag from her; scrawled in Emma’s hand, on the top of the bag, was “Sorry :( I love you!”
“You kids alright?” Granny asked, concern evident in her voice. “I don’t like being the go-between.”
“We’ll be just fine, I think,” he said softly as he opened the bag, the familiar shape of a burger wrapped in foil inside. “As much as we appreciate your services, I don’t think they’ll be required much longer.”
“I hope so. If you two can’t make it, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
He had to admit, that kind of sentiment was a bit draining—that everyone only saw them through the lens of “True Love,” and not as a real relationship. But he daren’t admit that to Granny. Instead, he smirked and tossed back, “Why, Madame Lucas—aren’t the lovers lining up at your threshold?”
“Ha. Very funny. Eat up, and don’t break your neck. I’ve got a lunch rush to get back to.” She turned to head away, but he caught the pink blush rising on her cheeks.
Oh, his darling wife; however was he going to make up for the muck he’d made this morning?
As it turned out, they both seemed determined to apologize through various gestures throughout the day, both preplanned and spur of the moment.
At the same time he was discovering a fifth of his favorite rum in the ship’s galley—to go with his burger, of course—Emma found the recently replenished stash of her favorite hazelnut coffee (the good stuff) in the coffee cabinet at the station.
On his way home from the ship, he arranged to have a hot chocolate and bearclaw delivered to her from her favorite cafe in town (don’t tell Granny); upon arrival at the house, a delivery boy from the ice cream shop was dropping off a pint of his favorite flavor, rum raisin.
And then, around dinner time, Killian walked up to the house armed with their favorite dishes from the local Chinese restaurant—just as Emma was pulling up in the bug, laden with their favorite pizzas.
“Hi,” they both said, somewhat awkwardly, staring at the carry-out in the other’s hands. Then they looked up at each other and giggled.
“Shall we?” Killian said, nodding at the door.
“Let’s.”
Seamlessly moving around each other—like always—they set up the food on the kitchen counter, Emma got out the dishes, and Killian uncorked the wine they’d been saving for tonight.
He’d just opened the bottle, and she had just set the plates down, when they turned to face each other and blurted out simultaneously, “I’m sorry.”
“No, love, you have nothing—”
“Oh, don’t even; I’m the one who—”
“Emma—”
“Killian—”
They took in a breath at the same moment, then instinctively moved together, wrapping the other one up in a bruising hug.
“I’m sorry I got needlessly suspicious and defensive,” Emma said, voice muffled a bit by the way her face was pressed against Killian’s chest.
“And I’m sorry that I was cagey and snapped at you; it’s inexcusable.”
“I’d have done the same.”
“That’s why we’re true love, aye?”
“Something like that.” Emma lifted her head just enough to find his lips with hers, and press any other apologies into that. “I love you.”
“I love you, too—immeasurably.”
“Show-off.”
He kissed her again, then laid out a decision. “So, we have two options here: dive into this frankly ridiculous amount of food, or take this,” he explained, grabbing her rear end through her jeans, “to a more comfortable locale. Which would you prefer?”
The decision was easy for Emma. “The food will reheat.” And without any further prompting, jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist and reaffix her lips to his.
They continued to make up several more times that night, in various positions, all across their bed.
(And, the following year, they did indeed have someone else to celebrate with—baby Hope.)
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Late Night Snacks and Underwear - 4
hFandom: Marvel’s Avengers
Summary: Y/N and Peter run into each other late one night. After, she is beyond confused about how she sees Peter. And Peter? Well he was already in love with her, but it takes advice, teasing, and another surprise encounter for them to face their feelings.
Words: 1,000+
Pairing/Characters: PeterParkerxStark!Reader, (Everybodyyyy is at least mentioned), Tony, Steve, Sam, Clint, Nat, Wanda, Bucky...
Warning: More awkwardness?
Author’s Note: So, I don’t really know how to describe this part, it’s more Avengers family cuteness and awkward Y/N before the big stuff. I just love writing awkward reader, because it’s like me lol (I’ve been away because I’ve been on vacation! Rewatching Star Trek Beyond for that request tonight!)
Part 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7
Peter practically stumbled out of his room and toward the elevator. It had taken him forever to fall asleep after getting back to his room and getting up was no easy task either. He slung his duffel over his shoulder as he pushed the button for the elevator. He’d shoved your sweatshirt into the top of his bag so he wouldn’t forget to give it back to you. The thought of you falling asleep on his shoulder last night woke him up a little.
The elevator dinged and he woke up even more at the sight of Tony Stark in the tiny room. “Morning, kid,” Iron Man greeted him.
“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” he offered and set his bag down.
“You look tired. Party too hard last night?”
Peter smiled weakly. “Didn’t really sleep well.”
“Well, just wait till we get to our undisclosed location. Unless you haven’t finished your homework?” Tony still teased him because of their first meeting.
Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he countered, just as Stark did before.
The elevator stopped then, pausing to pick up Clint Barton and Sam Wilson.
“Well, good morning,” Sam greeted as Clint nodded at Peter and Tony.
“You look beat, kid,” Clint commented, referring to Peter.
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep well-”
The elevator stopped again, picking up Steve and a very familiar floating suitcase.
“Still won’t let Uncle Steve carry her things?” Sam teased with a smirk.
Steve chuckled, glancing over at Tony, “Well, she is as stubborn as her father.”
“If not more so,” Clint added. Your suitcase, suspended a foot or so from the floor, faltered then and abruptly clattered to the ground, startling everyone.
“FRIDAY, call Y/N,” Tony said after a moment or two of silence. Peter couldn’t help growing worried as they waited patiently to hear your voice.
“Nat was with her,” Steve murmured.
FRIDAY finally connected with your room as you were practically screaming, “What?! Wh-Why would you-”
“Hi Tony,” Wanda called loudly, obviously trying to quiet you.
“What’s going on? You guys okay?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, we’re fine. See you guys on the jet,” Nat jumped in.
The call disconnected with your muffled rambling in the background, “I don’t get it… Shirtless… My pants…”
Everyone exchanged baffled looks before Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wonder what that was about,” he mumbled.
Peter felt an uneasiness come over him. That jumbled mess had to be about last night, but why? And if Nat and Wanda were there…
“She’s a teenage girl, what do you think?” Sam chuckled smugly.
~
You disembarked the jet quickly with the others. Luckily the ride let you collect yourself and calm down with the help of Wanda and Nat. The boys even helped a little, Thor, Steve, and Bruce, just by talking to you, though Thor and Steve were clueless to your tiff.
Except it all only flared up again upon learning the room assignments. This little getaway happened to be taking place at a large, secluded lake house in Northern California. You weren’t supposed to know the location, but hey your powers let you find things out easily, most of the time without even trying. And while the place was amazing, practically like a palace, it only had nine bedrooms for your 18 people. Obviously the couples were getting the one-bed rooms: your dad and Pepper, Clint and Laura, and Thor and Jane. The last one-bed room went to Nat and Wanda, leaving five rooms with two beds in each. The pairs went as such: Steve and Bucky (much to Sam’s dismay), Bruce and Vision, Sam and Pietro, Rhodey and Scott, and, finally, you and Peter. You and Peter. Peter. Surely you were going to die of embarrassment. Or maybe, if you focused hard enough, you could teleport to another planet and just burst into flames there… Teleporting was coming easier to you…
“Hey Y/N,” Peter said with a small, cryptic smile as he held the door to your shared room open for you, “You can have the bed next to the window if you want.”
You couldn’t help fidgeting as you replied, “Thanks Peter,” and lowered your bag onto a chair.
“So… Did you have a good morning?” You didn’t notice he was fidgeting too.
“Yeah, it was a morning,” you offered weakly, “Still pretty tired.” You walked over to the window, taking in the view of the mountains and an endless wave of green trees, except the blue expanse of water.
Peter followed you over, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Yeah, same here. You okay though? That whole suitcase thing in the elevator…”
Your focus had fallen away at his proximity, but his words snapped you back to reality. “Oh, you were there?” You said as calmly as you could, “What did you hear? I mean, uh, yeah… It was weird.” Of course some part of you knew he was there, you were just too distracted and distraught to worry about it at the time…
“I don’t know, you just seemed pretty upset…”
You swallowed hard and then instinct took over. “I’m fine. It-it’s fine. I uh, gotta go find Nat real quick. I’ll see you later,” you blurted out, backing away toward the door. Before he could say another word, you disappeared out the door, practically running down the hallway.
What were you going to do?
As you turned a corner quickly, you crashed into someone. You only realized who it was when they pulled you up from the floor. “Sorry, Y/N,” Bucky said quickly, his normal arm taking your hand, “Why were you running anyway? Don’t like your roommate?”
“Bucky,” you huffed with a glare especially for him.
“Ohhhh, it’s the opposite,” he continued slyly, “Isn’t it?”
He raised his eyebrows as you opened your mouth to reply, “N-No. Shut up.”
“Our little genius is afraid of some feelings now?” Bucky teased behind his smirk. You refused to reply. “Come on, doll. Tell me what happened.” The big, bad super soldier could see right through you.
Tags: @manyfandomstohandle @httpjilly @bitchybaeeeeeew @psly
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman fanfic#avengers fic#avengers fanfic#avengers fanfiction#avengers fluff
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Four - Haunted
I completely lost my original idea for this, I’m sorry this is rubbish.
Crumpled notes in a bin, cold, cutting remarks. Brushing off of concerns and turning away, silence stretched taut, unyielding.
It is painful, unexpected, but most of all, it makes him constantly nervous with the thought of what have I done?
(He doesn’t recall doing anything bad – he doesn’t know what he has done to create this rift between them when they were doing just fine before.)
(But maybe he does know. Maybe he does have an inkling of what has transpired to force them into this situation now.)
He’s tried to take it back a million times, but nothing seems to be working.
Semi presses his fingertips against his chest, above the painful thumping of his heart.
The pressure eases the pain a little, but he can’t hold the wound closed like this forever.
x.x.x.x.x
It’s never been this bad between them. Yet for a month so far, they’ve been walking on eggshells around each other – or well, Semi has – and it hasn’t been sitting well with him.
(He wakes up every day with a pool of dread in his stomach, relieved only when he escapes their room.)
(The panic comes back whenever he thinks of going back to their dorm at night, and even studying in their room has become an ordeal.)
(He counts himself lucky that his roommate likes to study in the library.)
His routine has never been so defined, never been this accurate in order to avoid Shirabu.
…ironic, because they can never truly escape each other when they share a room.
Yet the tension between them is clearly seen, evident in the meals that they no longer share with each other – one bento in the fridge instead of two – and in the times they spend out of the room.
(And in the minutes that they have to face each other in the mornings, when their schedules overlap, they exchange tight smiles or their eyes don’t meet.)
(Semi can’t remember when was the last time that he packed Shirabu’s bag because he was late.)
(That’s a lie, because he can, he can, how could he forget?)
Their arrangement is so bizarre, yet their friends seemed to have accepted it, not mentioning the other unless they really have to, allowing them to steer the conversation away once they are done.
Semi wonders how long it will take for him to go crazy.
He wonders if he’s already gone mad.
He has dinner so early these days, preparing a few days of food, taking the leftovers to school. His food is not touched by anyone else in the fridge, and it both relieves and confuses him.
He can see the containers that Shirabu uses, and steers clear of those as well. He’s not ready for another fight, not just yet.
He’s only properly distracted when he’s in class, and it’s the singular place that he throws his spare energy into. He sits in the front rows, recording the lectures, re-listening to them before he studies the material, and it’s not until Kenma points out how much he’s doing that he realises it may be a little over the top.
(But he doesn’t care, can’t care, because he’s drowning in panic and the need to protect himself, and he doesn’t know why.)
(He knows why, but he’s pretending that that reason doesn’t exist.)
He wonders if he should apologise again, even though he’s done nothing wrong, not really.
…he feels so guilty.
But still he says nothing, pressing on with his (slightly) destructive method of coping, throwing himself into studying, even when he can’t focus and all he wants to do is curl up and sleep his problems away.
x.x.x.x.x
He starts a text at least five times, erasing all of it before he can get far.
He doesn’t hear the lecturer’s voice in the recording sometimes because he’s too caught up in his worry, and studying one topic takes thrice as long.
The exams are ticking closer, and he’s worried about them, but he can’t bring himself to focus, no matter how hard he pinches himself, no matter how many times he tried to regulate his breathing and clear his mind.
(Maybe he is going crazy.)
(Why is he so bothered by it?)
(He did nothing wrong.)
(It’s irrational to be thinking this way, but he can’t seem to stop.)
(Why is he so bothered? Shirabu irritates him to no end on a normal day, and yet now, it feels like he’s being torn apart.)
(It doesn’t make sense.)
He tugs his legs up on the chair and wraps his arms around them, staring despondently at his notes.
He has an exam in five days. He can’t be worrying, not right now.
x.x.x.x.x
Everything he sees makes him a little more paranoid, a little more frantic. The notes he saved from before their tiff seem incriminating now, jokes and camaraderie like a slap to the face. Every time he opens the drawer to get something, he catches a glimpse of them, and it makes him bite on his lip nervously, a shot of fresh dread in his veins.
Once he can no longer take it, he gathers them up, stuffing them into an envelope, burying its plain face at the bottom of the drawer.
(He wants to burn them, to get them completely out of his life, but he can’t, he won’t.)
(He’s not that brave, and he knows he’ll regret it after.)
His roommate has no such inhibitions, he knows–
–the day after their fight, the dustbin down the hallway was stuffed full of Post-Its, every one of them bearing his handwriting.
He never knew there were that many.
He never thought he kept them all.
(He thought he was the only one, and now it’s too late.)
Sometimes, a memory will creep up on him, worn to fading, aged with time, and he sees them in a different light now. He sees what he has never seen before, and he hates that his vision is so clouded.
(He doesn’t know what’s the truth anymore, and it frightens him.)
(Are his current feelings messing up his old memories? Or were they always that way?)
(He doesn’t know, doesn’t know, doesn’t know, and all he wants is for this anxiety to end.)
(How long has it been now?)
He turns over to face the wall, exhaling shakily, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let more emotions rise.
He should be above being this hormonal and frantic. He never knew he could feel this horrible. He never imagined wanting to die this much.
(Maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but it’s true.)
He buries his face in the pillow and tries not to scream, praying for sleep to come.
x.x.x.x.x
He almost doesn’t hear the knock at his door, and it takes him too long to get up and open it.
He’s surprised to find Kenma there.
The younger looks at him a little sourly before relenting, gently shouldering past him to flop on his bed. “How’s the studying?”
“Not good,” Semi admits, closing the door and curling back up in his chair. “I’ve been transcribing this one for five hours. I’m almost done though.”
“When was the last time you took a break?”
“An hour or two ago?” He can’t remember. “I’m so mad at this lecturer, how can she talk so much?”
Kenma shrugs, his eyes already glued to his device’s screen. “Do you want to come play volleyball later?”
Semi pulls an earbud out of his ear, painstakingly typing the latest words into his notes. “…no, not really.”
“You haven’t been in forever.”
“The exam’s on Monday and I have three lectures left to transcribe.” It’s hard to keep the desperation out of his voice, the barely-concealed hysteria from boiling over. “This one’s taken me so long, and I still have to revise everything again after, I don’t have time–”
“You’ll do fine, you’re always studying.”
“No, I’m not.” His fingernails dig into his palms, and the pain is too dull, not enough to wake him from the misery ready to engulf him. “I’m not doing enough, I don’t remember anything.”
Kenma glances up at him. “You’ve studied a lot,” he repeats. “You’ll do fine.”
Semi exhales heavily, fingers moving to his wrist, nails digging into the thinner skin. “I’m going to keep transcribing this.”
He turns back to his computer, and Kenma doesn’t say anything, not for a long while.
But the moment he finishes and saves that particular lecture, he hears him again. “Would you come and play after exams, then?”
Semi pauses, glances at him over his shoulder.
(Muted panic rises in his chest, a dull listlessness weighs down his arms.)
“Maybe,” he hedges.
(He knows better. He can’t play.)
(He hasn’t set a ball in forever, hasn’t served in longer, but he knows he can’t do it.)
(Volleyball no longer brings him joy.)
Kenma nods. “I’ll go, then. Do you want to come for dinner some time?”
“Maybe.” He’s worried now, about who will be present. He’s not ready to deal with people, not after his abstinence from social interaction. “Who would be there?”
“Futakuchi, maybe Kuro, maybe Koutarou.”
“Let me know, and if I’m done studying, I’ll come over.”
“’Kay.” Kenma waves a little as he lets himself out. Even he knows that it’s not worth staying, and the thought makes Semi smile bitterly.
He stretches and picks up his water bottle, shaking the sleep out of his head.
No one has time to sleep, especially with so much to do.
x.x.x.x.x
The exam is a lot harder than he thought he would be, and he’s glad that one of his acquaintances wanted to run over some questions beforehand, because those questions had appeared in the exam.
(He probably got them all wrong, but he doesn’t care.)
(He has about 36 hours to prepare for his next exam, and he wants to die already.)
His phone buzzes, and he opens it to find a message from Kenma.
[Kenma]: Dinner tonight?
[Eita]: Only if it’s short
[Eita]: Last exams soon, I need to prep
[Kenma]: dw, it’ll be fast
[Eita]: What time?
[Kenma]: 6.30?
[Eita]: k, I’ll come over
He wonders how much studying he can squeeze in before he leaves, though he’s sure he’ll spend it procrastinating instead.
(He does spend it procrastinating, but he feels so dead that he doesn’t care.)
He knocks on Kenma’s door a little before the stipulated time, unsurprised when Futakuchi answers it. The brunet grins at him and launches into a list of complaints about his own exam and how nerve-wrecking, anxiety-inducing and stressful it was, and how it shaved 10 years off my life.
Semi listens to him with half a smile, amused with his shenanigans and relieved at the distraction it brings.
His smile just about slides off his face when they reach the kitchen and he spots the other two people there, because he has not prepared for this and he’s not ready to deal with this yet.
Shirabu doesn’t even look at him, so he supposes that’s a good thing.
What’s not so good, he thinks, is how Futakuchi is trying very hard to get them to talk to each other.
“Shirabu, stop staring a hole into the table and be more social.”
“You’re being social enough for both of us,” the brunet replies, eyes never leaving his notes. “I don’t need to do anything.”
“You could help me with serving the food.”
“Yes, that I could.”
Futakuchi grumbles in the background, but doesn’t press the issue.
Semi feels like fainting.
He somehow makes it through dinner without making much conversation, other than replying when being spoken to, and complimenting Kenma’s cooking. It’s not as tense as he expected it to be, though he does notice that Shirabu is pointedly ignoring him.
(It’s not a surprise to him, and it is somewhat relieving to not have to make conversation, since he doesn’t know what to say.)
He’s the first to volunteer to wash up after the meal, and Kenma quietly joins him, leaving the bickering of the other two behind.
The sound of the water isn’t loud enough to hide their voices, so he can’t fake deafness when Kenma says, “You can’t avoid it forever.”
Semi scrubs at a stubborn stain, refusing to reply.
Kenma takes the clean dish from him, wiping it dry and setting it aside. “Eita.”
“Hmm?”
“Talk to Shirabu.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Have you tried?”
“Yeah.”
(Once or twice, with awkwardly phrased words, receiving curt answers, and being too cowed to try again.)
Kenma is quiet for a bit more, and nearly all the dishes are clean when he tries a second time. “How do you know he doesn’t want to talk to you?”
He can’t control the frantic, choked chuckle that slips out. “He’s been ignoring me for nearly two months.”
“But…”
“But nothing,” he whispers, because the water is now off, and the other two could eavesdrop if they wanted to. “If he doesn’t want to talk to me, there’s really nothing I can do about it. I’ll just move out next semester or something.”
“I could ask him what’s wrong for you.”
“No, it’s all right.” The panic is back, because he doesn’t want Kenma to know, doesn’t want anybody to know. It was a dumb reason to be fighting, yet he can’t seem to get over it. “I’ve done my best already. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready. It’s just how he is.”
Kenma looks slightly unconvinced, but doesn’t press him for more.
(Yet.)
(He knows he wants to know, wants to help, so he will badger him later, or send someone else to do it.)
(Sometimes, he wishes Kenma wasn’t such a good friend.)
He announces his departure as they re-join the others, and Futakuchi complains loudly when he says he needs to study.
“Come on, one day of not studying won’t kill you–”
“I have 35 chapters to revise and each will take me at least half an hour.” Semi doesn’t mention the huge amounts of procrastination that is sure to happen. “I definitely need to study.”
“I should go too.” Shirabu pushes away from the table, and their eyes lock, holding a second longer than they have in two months. “My second last exam is tomorrow, I need to finish revising.”
Futakuchi clicks his tongue at the both of them, but Semi catches the quick glance he shares with Kenma. He feels a little miffed that they are both working against him, but he can’t really blame them.
Their goodbyes are said too fast, and then they are trudging back to their dorm, the silence sharp, menacing.
They are almost there when the fragile soundlessness finally breaks, but it’s not as dramatic as he thought it would be.
“Do you want to stay up studying with me later?”
An olive branch, a proposition of a truce.
Semi nods. “Sure.”
Shirabu exhales lowly, slowing to a stop, and Semi turns to face him.
(His eyes are sharp, accusing, hazel boring into cocoa.)
“I know I’ve been even more unsociable lately, and I’m a little sorry about that.”
‘Even more unsociable’ doesn’t cut it, but okay.
“But I was still a little mad at you over that thing.”
“I’m sorry,” Semi tells him, hoping he sounds sincere. “I truly didn’t know.”
Shirabu rubs at his neck, looking at a point above his shoulder instead of at him. “Is it weird that I trust you when you say that?”
“Sort of.” Semi tries for a smile, though he thinks it falls short. “I didn’t think you trusted me at all.”
“After what happened? I’m surprised I still do.”
Semi exhales loudly, steeling himself. “Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened. If I could turn back time and undo it, I would. I had no idea, and I feel really guilty.”
Shirabu looks at him strangely. “Why would you feel guilty if you didn’t do it on purpose?”
“Because doing something like that by accident feels just as bad as if I had done it on purpose. I don’t want to do that to anyone, and I’m sorry that I did it to you.”
Shirabu purses his lips. “It’s alright, I guess. I’m mostly over it. I trust you when you said you didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Being dishonest isn’t in my morals, and I would never have done it on purpose. But still, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” Shirabu rubs at his face, looking suddenly tired. “I’m going to believe that you didn’t, and let’s move past this, alright? We have more exams to deal with.”
“Alright.” He doesn’t feel better about it at all, but it makes him feel lighter, now that he’s tried to explain his point of view. “Shall we?”
The brunet turns to lead the way, and he follows, the tiniest bit of the burden lifted from his heart.
…of course, one apology doesn’t make everything better in an instant.
They are the tiniest bit friendlier to each other now, though he still feels nervous, on tenterhooks around him.
(He doesn’t believe him completely when he says he’s not mad at him, because he’s been around Shirabu enough to know that he can hold a grudge forever.)
(Their combined study session is more of a self-study marathon with someone sitting beside them, poking each other awake and complaints about the number of chapters to go.)
(But it feels slightly less tense than the previous months, and he’ll take what he can get.)
x.x.x.x.x
It’s not until after his last exam that he feels like he can breathe again, even though he’s certain he flunked it.
There’s something about the end of exams, the end of months of stress, that leaves him drained and empty. He flops onto his bed and stares at the ceiling, tension sapping away, and wonders what he should do next.
The room door slams open and he twists his head to face it, only half-interested.
Shirabu looks surprised to see him. “I thought you’d be out celebrating the end of your exams.”
“With what friends?” Semi asks him drily. “I’ve become a recluse in the last few months.”
“I think Futakuchi’s done with his. I know Kenma’s definitely done.”
“Futakuchi’s in almost all your classes, he can’t be done.”
“Uh, well, yeah,” Shirabu looks suddenly sheepish, before his face resets to forced neutral. “Could I kick you out anyway?”
“That’s polite.” Semi sighs and swings his legs off the bed. “Yeah, I’ll go ask Kenma if he wants to game or something.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there a reason you want me out?” Semi tosses his jacket over his shoulder, picking up his bag with his free hand. His next words are stilting, awkward with his lack of surety as they are birthed. “If you’re having someone over, you could just say so.”
The brunet looks a little red, he thinks. “Well, yeah.”
Semi feels a small smile tilt his lips up; a sliver of apprehension lances him as he tries for a joke. “Should I not come back tonight at all?”
Shirabu’s sudden spluttering has him laughing, and it lifts his mood a lot more than he cares to admit. “Okay, okay, before 11?”
“How about 12?”
“Or I could just stay at Kenma’s…”
“Don’t imply things.”
“Don’t forget to actually study,” he teases, exhaling round his sudden lightness, edging around him to get out. “Good luck.”
He doesn’t hear his reply – if there is any – and walks towards the stairs with half a smile, daring to nurse the hope that their relationship – friendship? – can be salvaged.
x.x.x.x.x
He doesn’t know what set it off, but he feels like he’s staring down the barrel of a gun.
‘Metaphorically’.
The quiet patter of fingers on a keyboard, doubled and beating out of time. Two sets of hands play at the falsehood of a tune as they lie engrossed in their own worlds, discordant harmonies.
The companionable not-quiet, suddenly split open.
“Why did Shirabu kick you out?”
He never replied, he realises, in the true silence, with cat eyes appraising him over the top of the laptop.
“He didn’t,” he hedges. “I left of my own will.”
(They both know it’s more of a question than a statement.)
Kenma tilts his head at him. “He had someone over.”
“Why would you ask if you already know?”
The blond stares at him, unblinking. “I wanted to know if you knew who he’s seeing.”
Who he’s seeing.
Shirabu was seeing someone?
He shakes his head; it feels slow, like he’s submerged in treacle. “I don’t.”
I don’t know what he’s up to, anymore.
Kenma slouches, sinking back behind his screen. He takes that as a signal that the conversation is over, but his fingers feel out of place on the keys, and his focus is gone.
“Go back early.”
“That’s not polite,” he murmurs, more to his dying character than his friend. “If he’s having his partner over, he ought to have the privacy he wants.”
“It’s your room too.”
“I said I’d be back after 12.”
“It’s your room, too.”
“Kenma.”
“Eita.”
“Do you have a point in all this?”
“Maybe.”
A sudden weight on his back, and the powdery smell nearly makes him sneeze. “His point is, go back and find out who this fella is.”
“Why are you invested in this?” He asks Futakuchi, and feels the slight movement that could be a shrug.
“I’m curious.”
“He’s nosy.”
“Kenma, you don’t have the right to say that to me.”
“We’re nosy.”
“Say curious, it makes it less incriminating.”
“You mean neither of you know who’s this mysterious person he’s seeing?” Semi asks, amazed. “I thought he was only not on talking terms with me.”
He sees Kenma’s eyes lift, and almost feels the look the roommates are exchanging over his head.
“He wasn’t telling anyone.”
“We weren’t even sure there was a someone.”
“But now we know there is, so…”
“You two are incorrigible,” Semi tells them. “I’m not doing it.”
Kenma shrugs. “We’ll find out eventually.”
“Yeah, because he’s a rambling drunk.”
“Get him over when his exams are done.”
“Oh, you bet I will~”
Semi shakes his head at them and turns back to his game. It’s not his problem to deal with.
“So, why is it a partner and not a him or her?”
…but Futakuchi insists on it becoming his problem, it seems.
Semi almost tells him, before remembering that it isn’t common knowledge. “I’m not explaining this if he didn’t already tell you.”
“Aww, why not? It’s nothing big.”
He reaches up and gently knocks Futakuchi on the head. “I’m not outing anyone without their permission.”
(It’s over, it’s over, it’s in the past–)
(But it still haunts him, a mistake he can never be rid of.)
(Gold eyes appraise him over the edge of the laptop, a tiny question in them, and he can’t hold their gaze.)
The brunet is oddly silent before he slides off his back. “Okay. That’s fair.”
Semi raises his eyebrows after him, but Kenma only shrugs.
It seems that they can come to an agreement, sometimes.
(And though he pretends, he pretends, he can see the slight understanding forming in Kenma’s eyes, and he thinks he knows.)
(How he was privy to information that his roommate isn’t supposed to know, that no one else should know.)
(Semi can’t look at him anymore, for fear of finding an accusation there.)
x.x.x.x.x
He can’t stop thinking about it now that he’s alone – a partner? Who? What? How?? – and now he’s five minutes earlier than he thought he would be.
He sighs and unlocks the door loudly, hoping it is enough to announce his presence. “I’m home.”
There is no Welcome back, and he peeks around the door to see an empty bed, a desk full of scattered notes and an empty spot where his roommate’s shoes would usually be.
Well, then.
He shuts the door quietly and snaps a picture of the empty room, sending it to his nosy friends.
…hopefully they wouldn’t bother him about it.
His phone vibrates with twin messages, and he rolls his eyes before throwing it on to his bed.
Too much to hope for, it seems.
[Futakuchi]: I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO THE MYSTERIPIS PERSON IS N WJERE THEYVE GONE
[Kenma]: look 4 clues
[Semi]: come over and search yourself then
[Eita]: too much effort
(Not just too much effort, but too much commitment, too much pain.)
(They promised a truce, to keep out of the way, to keep past matters in the past.)
(But now it’s rising to the surface, a bloated corpse, and he can’t ignore its foul presence.)
Short breaths, unrestrained panting, grunts and high-pitched keening. The vicious press of lips, teeth and tongue fighting for control.
Both battling to come out on top, fighting a war that has already been lost.
This is their consolation prize.
He sighs and runs a hand over his face, pressing down on his eyes, relishing in the sharp sparks of colour.
He would not go there again. The past is the past.
(Except it isn’t, when he looks to the unmade bed that isn’t his, the sprawl of notes on the other side of the room.)
(The past is here, and nostalgia is a living being, breathing down his neck.)
Semi steps carefully towards the mess, picking up notes and straightening things, eyes not lingering on things he was not meant to see.
But once he is done, his fingers linger by the unmade bed, skin trailing over fabric, ridiculous hopes rising.
In a second of bad decisions, he sits. Pulls the pillow towards himself, burying his face in its plushy surface.
Camellia and laundry detergent.
Familiar, familiar.
Haunting.
He smiles wryly, a little sadly, and lowers the pillow, replacing it on the bed. Smooths out the indent of his face, straightening the covers.
He gathers his things for a shower, and does not look back.
(Cannot look back, refuses to look back.)
A memory of hands pressing together, palm to palm. Fingers intertwining, briefly.
The whisper of a promise.
“It means nothing.”
“Don’t remember this.”
…but he can’t forget, not the events that came before, or the ones after.
He can’t forget his only solace in those times, and how it shaped him differently.
(Perhaps he should, perhaps he should, but in truth, he’d never give up those memories.)
(It’s too late to turn back.)
#hq fanfic#semishira#semi eita#shirabu kenjirou#kozume kenma#futakuchi kenji#cygnus#my writing#haikyuu!!
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GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS 'FUTURESHOCK TAPPED III' - TAPPED WITH A VENGEANCE
Hello and welcome everyone to this edition of Graps and Claps this time taking me on a short journey to the Piccadilly area of Manchester for Futureshock Wrestling’s Tapped III event at the Fairfield Social Club for what will be in the first in a line of special Wednesday night events which seems a regular thing now in the British Wrestling sphere with many a midweek show taking place up and down this land, with the now defunct Lucha Forever being the innovator of said ‘midweek graps’.
Getting into Manchester for 6pm, I swiftly made my way to The Piccadilly Tap to meet up with some of the Graps gang (Steve, Ben, Andrew and our Geoff) for a couple of pints before walking around the corner to the venue. Only two pints before the show which included in the Piccadilly Tap – a pint of Marble/Heart & Craft Macchiato Porter (5.1% £5.80) that smelt coffee like but only tasted a smidgen like it’s supposed flavour which was maybe cancelled out due to it being a cold keg drink.
It was then a walk across the road to the Store Street Craft Beer Bar which is adjoined to the Double Tree by Hilton, so it is basically a glorified hotel bar offering supposed ‘Craft’ beer from Brightside Brewery and JW Lees plus the usual Craft legends called Foster’s and Heineken – they will literally stick the word ‘Craft’ to bloody anything nowadays. Anyways the £4.60 pint of Brightside IPA passed as a solid 6.5/10, but I did feel sorry for Ben who bought a £6.50 pint of Goose Island IPA which is an example of hotel bar prices. Décor though in this place is welcoming but it is certainly one place where you would only visit to have 1 pint and nothing else if especially you are on your way to the Apollo as it is very sparse in good pubs on that route.
Drinks done, it was time to get to the venue – whilst on the way my mate Andrew was telling me about a recent Kaiser Chiefs gig he had been to that wasn’t all it was cracked up to be with lead singer Ricky Wilson having a reet bad night on the mic. Arriving into the Fairfield Social Club I would estimate the audience to be around the 150/200 marker with many people taking in the fantastic ale selection (around 16 on tap on this evening anything ranging from £3.50 - £6 a pint), plus the food selection from Vasos Kitchen offering fries with different Indian style toppings including a Keema Option for £7.50 and a Masala option for £4 that I frequented – very fragrant in smell and a taste that certainly packed a punch but was well worth the price to fill a corner in my tummy!
Taking our seats at the back near the commentator’s desk which wasn’t being used, as Rob Halden and Matthew Richards decided to do their commentary from the couches near the bar watching on monitors from G-Man video editing lair – probably the best option as our singing would have deafened their ears in the first match between Angst Strongman – Big Joe and one of our personal favourites Sugar Dunkerton who was making his debut in Futureshock in what was if I am right in thinking – his 1 year anniversary wrestling in the UK since his debut on a cold Leeds Afternoon.
Early on in this match there were many chants aimed at Joe’s stature and also the Sugar chant was in full force thanks to his adoring fan club (us lot) meaning that his debut instantly got off to a great start with this response. As we eventually got into the action, we had Joe showing off his strength as Squatted Sugar but in turn after 3 squats, Sugar had him locked in a sleeper which left Joe laying on the floor. This lead to Sugar trying to quieten the crowd so he could pin Joe whilst he was asleep, but a big shout from the Nordic Alarm Clock on the outside woke Joe up at the two count.
Once Joe was back awake, he laid a beatdown to Sugar but Sugar was only playing possum during this as he fired back with a Pimp Slap to Joe then a DDT for a 2 count. As the match reached its conclusion Joe used his strength to power up Sugar to hit a fireman’s lift then a Vader Bomb for a 2, but when he went to the other side of the ring to hit a splash, Sugar rolled to the other side of the ring and offered Joe to jump anyways which he duly did after much persuasion from Thomas Wolfe on the outside and Sugar inside the ring, sadly for Joe there wasn’t enough distance on the dive and no water in the pool as he went SPLAT! Sugar took advantage of this by rolling up Joe for the 3 count to get the popular victory to start proceedings. In terms of Comedy style wrestling these two were a match made in heaven with the charismatic Sugar and the ever improving Big Joe who has his character down pat – just all around entertainment that you can’t ask much more of!
Second match now with the Futureshock Women’s title on the line with a clash of goodies as the Champion, Lana Austin took on her protégé of sorts – Hollie who was looking to possibly get the shock victory and maybe a championship by the end of this match even in her early infancy as a wrestler. The early feeling out process ended up with Hollie getting the best of it, but once Lana got into her stride she did so with hard forearms to the face. Hollie though came firing back with a couple of knee shots to get near falls. As the match was going on though, out came two newcomers to Futureshock (but already two regulars in WrestlePro), that being Alexis Falcon and Taonga who came to keep a watching eye, but they would soon get involved by attacking Lana from behind as the referee wasn’t watching.
When they chucked Lana back in, they willed Hollie to pick up the scraps but her conflicting head got the better of her as she refused to pin Lana so instead Taonga and Alexis took offence to this and came in the ring to attack both Lana and Hollie to cause the No Contest – BOOOO!!! So it looks like we have a possible tag match for a future show with Hollie & Lana taking on Taonga and Alexis Falcon which is a good thing to see as it is a change from the monthly Queen Bees vs Lana & Partner match we have got often in Futureshock recently. Match wise with Lana and Hollie it was a decent follow up from the first match and hopefully we possibly get to see it again in the future.
A special bonus match now as the sirens rang out in the Social Club with the appearance of the Futureshock Champion Crater, much to the disgust of some in the crowd (my friend Mike especially). His opponents for the evening were not 1, not 2, but 3 opponents with the appearance of Karl Stoxx, Tom Thelwell and PCW favourite Philip Michael who got a good reception from the crowd even though this was his debut in the promotion – probably due to his familiarity on the North West scene. Sadly, though for the three lads, it didn’t turn out great as Crater smashed his way through them in quick style, despite them getting in little offence like double dropkicks to try and knock the big fella down. Crater soon finished it by hitting a double choke slam to 2 of them and putting a foot on the other to bring an end to proceedings. After the match though we had an appearance from Crater’s nemesis Henry T. Grodd who came out to spear Crater to the chants of ‘Grodd! Grodd! Grood! to once again stake another claim to a title shot against Crater in the future. To be honest though I do feel at this stage that the crowd are certainly behind a Grodd victory against Crater more than a John McGregor one!
Half time Main Event now, with The Young Guns (Ethan Allen and Luke Jacobs) taking on the makeshift team of Sam Bailey and James Drake – this was due to Zack Gibson being unable to compete due to Injury. Gibson though did get on the mic before the match to explain why people were asking – Why are Gibson and Drake friends again in Futureshock after a 9-month feud? To their credit they explained it as more of a friendly tiff between great friends/colleagues – which I am glad they have explained it (They must have read my comments about the lack of explanation at the Stockport show). Just to report – no chants of ‘NXT’ on this occasion! They did promise the Guns though in the future that they would eventually get a match against the Grizzled Young Veterans with possibly some gold on the line – but we shall just see!
Anyways with Gibson’s chatting out of the way, we got down to business with the Young Guns on top early with Jacobs first working on Bailey, then dissecting Drake. Ethan Allen then tagged in but was soon beaten down by both Bailey who hit a big superplex to young Ethan and then Drake followed up on Ethan with a Back Breaker to the boos of the crowd. The continuous beat down carried on to Ethan, that was until he got the hot tag to Luke who came in like a house on fire flooring both Bailey and Drake. It was interesting to see during this that Ethan was selling excellently on the ring apron from the beating – just the little things like that shows that this lad could be headed to the top. With Ethan back to full health, himself and Luke hit a Big Back Cracker double team to get a 2 fall, also in the home stretch we had Drake & Bailey hit their version of the Vets finisher which I will name for the purpose of this occasion – ‘The Ticket to Bailey’s House’ for a 2 count.
With the Guns on top though, Luke was ready to finish off James Drake, but from behind Zack Gibson waffled poor Luke to leave him in prime position for Drake to hit the 450 to get the win in a fantastic tag match, but sadly for the Guns another one in the loss column – which I do hope for their sakes they can pick up some wins soon!
Back from the break, we returned with Adrenaline Title action with No Limit after CJ Banks and Joey Hayes (Champion) went to a 15-minute Time Limit draw in Stockport, which has led to this match where the winner of the match will then go on to face Chris Ridgeway in Prestwich on the 23rd February. The early bulk of this match was CJ showing his dominance beating down Joey, including winning the best of the exchanges on the outside as they fought near the bar. Back in the ring though, both Joey and CJ went hold for hold for a good 20 minutes, that eventually ended in both guys’ double pinning each other much to the annoyance of the crowd who wanted an outright winner – so for the Prestwich show we now have a Triple Threat match with CJ vs Joey Hayes vs Chris Ridgeway for the Adrenaline Title.
Couple of things to point out from this match, included a post-match beat up of Joey from CJ, plus my overriding opinion of this match the day after and also on the evening, was that this was a good wrestling match but it did suffer from crowd heat and not one to be a toss as I am not a wrestler, but this always seems to be CJ Banks downfall as a baddie – when he is on the offence especially as he was against Joey, he doesn’t attempt to jaw jack with the crowd to get them to boo him, he just goes straight into the next manoeuvre with no response. CJ is a good wrestler but he is as bland as anything.
Second to last match as the time was coming up to 9:30pm and with our Geoff wondering if he should go home as he had work at 6am in the morning, but he decided against this. In this match we had two up and comers on the North West scene with JJ Webb taking on Callum Corrie, with the latter trying to making 2019 his own, like he did in the latter part of 2018 in GPW. Corrie had the bulk of the crowd noise for him with chants of ‘Sandy Beach’ and ‘Callum Corrie’ blaring in his ears and it was this support that got him over the finish line in this match as he hit poor JJ with a DDT to pick up the 3 count in a good under 10-minute scrap that kept the audience’s attention throughout the match.
After the match though, this loss got too much for JJ who attacked Callum and then locked in a Crab to make Corrie moan like buggery, so this feud is going to continue so happy days as these are two good young up and comers.
Main event time now with John McGregor trying to prove he has what it takes to dethrone Crater in March, by testing himself against former Futureshock Heavyweight Champion Ashton Smith who was looking himself to get back on track after a quiet couple of months in the promotion due to WWE commitments - plus as ever it was good to belt out a rendition of ‘All of the Lights’ once again as Ashton made his way down to the ringside area.
A bulk of this match was very much Ashton being the aggressor as he beat down the much smaller McGregor, but John over these last couple of months is showed those fighting qualities from underneath that helped him win the Legacy Tournament, especially his match vs Zack Gibson where he was excellent. With John fighting through, he looked like he was ready for the loss as Ashton hit a GTS then a ‘Roll of the Dice’ for an agonising 2 fall that had the crowd on the edge of their seats but John managed to somehow recover from this as he hit a Jumping DDT to Ashton to get the 3 count in around 15 minutes in a very good main event.
After the match though, Ashton got on to the mic to say to congratulate John on the win, but then the pleasantries stopped at that when he said bluntly to John that ‘You are not ready for Crater off that performance’! – Which instantly I think puts in the crowd’s head that the Gentleman is not good enough to beat Crater in March, but this writer though thinks differently and can see him pushing Crater all the way, but with the threat of Grodd I can see John ultimately failing – we shall see!!
Show done, it was time to leave but not before having a quick chat with Ashton, ring announcer Neil and also Sugar Dunkerton who as ever was a gentleman to chat to. Overall as a show it was a good 2 ½ hours of entertainment with the Young Guns vs Sam Bailey/James Drake, Dunkerton/Big Joe and the Main Event being matches you should check out on Futureshock’s On Demand service.
Next time we will be at Futureshock will be the 23rdFebruary in Prestwich for the visit of PAC who will be taking on Soner Durson. Next time you will be hearing from me will be for Breed Wrestling’s debut show in Sheffield on Sunday 10th February – so as ever go and give this a share, likes and retweets and spread the word. So until then – BYE !!!!
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