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emily-the-fae · 3 years

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Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 4. Negotiations, Exortions and Stories of the Past

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6

Surprisingly, this story continues to move further for me.

Back to the characters where we left them in the previous part - with some heated arguments and intimate talks.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: none, apart from lung diseases, wounds and Adrian being a total sweetheart

Next morning Shari woke up to sounds of footsteps and hushed speech. Straight away she knew the upcoming conversation will have to be one hell of a diplomatic achievement – how do you explain your sudden desire to leave to a group of half vampire, speaker and a vampire hunter who were most probably fighting for your life during the last three days. Trevor would be completely furious. Better stand next to Sypha when presenting the decision, just in case he suddenly has the wish to use his whip. You never know how the Belmont reacts, though possibly Shari could still drag it through without making a big fuss – Lisa was definitely right about one thing: she has made a habit of negotiating her way with people, especially the ones that were apprehensive or disliked her. Truth to say, nine out of ten were either of the two.

- And don't forget, you are our healer, how are we...!?

- So far I wasn't so much required, you guys can carry on perfectly well without me.

- I'm still not sure if it is a good idea, Shari, if you want to get some rest by leaving... It may only be more dangerous for you, - Sypha argued.

- Don’t you even think of supporting her! She took a few years off our lifespans with this incident! We can’t just let you…

- No, wait, you don't get it, I...

- Shari!

- Stop bossing me around, Trevor, I am not a child! I have not finished.

- Trevor, please calm down, she is neither under your command, nor your sibling. If she wants to leave, it is her choice, - Adrian stepped in, clearly annoyed with the three.

- See? I can perfectly… - Shari tried to pick up.

- Shari, - Adrian interrupted. – Can I speak with you privately?

The healer was genuinely startled for a moment. She turned to look Adrian in the eyes – probably for the first time since the incident – trying to estimate his emotions and plan her defense strategy. She was never scared of him – or at least she never showed that he scared her sometimes, because surely being sane and realistic she could not ignore the obvious danger presented by those sharp fangs and golden eyes. Still Shari was used to considering him a friend, his malevolent side almost unable to turn against her.

Now she was startled and – honestly – slightly scared. For a moment she thought she saw it in his eyes that he looked right through her: that he perhaps watched her and Lisa or sensed her thoughts or some other vampire telepathy kind of thing. That maybe he thought she was a traitor.

Then he smiled warmly and nodded his head to the side, gesturing for her to follow him away from Trevor and Sypha – and Shari straight away knew whatever it was, he was ready to be on her side.

- Are you sure you need this resting? I mean clearly you do, you are paler than father when he wakes up, but still… Sari, I know you are stronger than you look, but a witch traveling alone during such a time doesn’t seem the brightest idea to me, - Adrian spoke quickly and quietly, for others not to hear their discussion. Shari felt ashamed for how it continued to surprise her that he sounded genuinely concerned.

- Adrian, I’ll be fine. I swear. I just… I don’t feel well…for, let’s say, various reasons, not only the attack. It just suddenly occurred to me that since your father seems to be watching and purposefully slowing you down, it may be a good decision for me to…

- To not stick around and lower the risk of encountering him or strong specifically directed demons? – she nodded in response. – Well, I can get that… And Shari, - he suddenly took her hand, his tone turning uncharacteristically warm. – I’m sorry.

- You don’t have to. We already spoke about…

- Not about that. About your disease. I’m so sorry. If only I knew how to help you – I could have known the way, you know, I once had the access to knowledge that could have… I’m so sorry for you.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Shari found herself unable to look into his eyes, staring at the ground.

- For how long have you known? – she rasped, barely recognizing her own quiet voice.

- Almost as soon as we met… Shari, I…

- Don’t. It’s alright, Adrian, I just didn’t realize you knew and this struck me a little…

- Do you know where you will be heading? – if she ever was grateful to him for anything – though she was grateful for plenty of things to be fair – it was his ability to catch onto the atmosphere and change the topic when it is very much needed.

- I… yeah sure, of course I do, I have a rough plan of what to do. Thanks, - she coughed dryly a few times, still refusing to lookup and meet his gaze.

- Shari?

- Yes.

- Promise me you will be fine. Not to be dramatic, but I… have gotten used to you quite a lot.

Shari chuckled.

- Will do my best, - she finally looked up at him and saw the half-vampire smile broadly. – I’ve gotten pretty used to you too, you overgrown puppy, - they stood in silence for some time.

- Almost forgot, one last thing before we face the storm of unacceptance named Trevor, - he blurted out, when she moved tostep away and turn back to the campsite.

- Yes?

Adrian did not say a word – he simply opened his arms and Shari fell into the embrace without even thinking. She felt utterly childish for being this familiar with him. She also felt it was nice to have someone to turn to when feeling torn and exhausted without having to explain the whirlwind of emotion in your head.

Shari shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Adrian who let her go with such ease. He knew he could trust her decisions, he always did. She was somewhat flattered by the way he treated her as an advisor and assistant even though she was no way as knowledgeable as him; the half-vampire always showed that he believed she had an own analyzed perspective of things, that she wouldn’t be reckless. This time though his trust in her rationality might have failed him. Any way it was, he openly supported her decision and expressed the hope that she would be able to catch up with them in some time.

Shari knew Trevor thought Dracula hypnotized her into surrender and laughed at it to herself. If only he had a clue that it was the human Dracula's wife who controlled her.

In the end of that emotionally exhausting morning they finally parted ways: the trio went in the direction of the closest town, hesitant to leave their friend, but unwillingly agreeing it should be done for greater good; Shari stayed at the campsite with Rodo for a bit longer, motivating it with the need of rest. Adrian threw a concerned glance in her direction, but said nothing. The vampire felt there was something wrong, but decided to let it slide, since he had already supported her decision; if she said she needed rest, then so be it.

In fact, although Shari did tell him she had a rough plan of further action, in reality she had little to no ideas in which direction to move and absolutely no wish of discussing it with thin air in front of her disbelieving friends: they would definitely not see Lisa and they would definitely think she was hallucinating after the attack. To be fair, she could never herself be sure if that wasn't exactly the case. Maybe she was talking to an imaginary friend. However, since she had already decided to believe in the ghost's existence, she had to play along that assumption.

Lisa didn’t leave her waiting and appeared as soon as they were left alone, Shari sitting by the campfire a little lost and a little tired; a victorious smile played on the ghost's lips, as she sat by the fire next to the girl. Rodo made no sign of noticing their guest, only slightly shaking his furry head and letting out a jawn.

- What? - asked Shari, annoyed by the constant attention of the ghost. She took the cattle off the fire and set it aside to cool down a bit. She needed something warm to drink if she wanted to keep her blood and lungs inside her body.

- We have to move out, - Lisa smiled, now more gently, watching the human's movements.

- It would be nice if I knew where we went, - replied Shari, slowly looking around, taking in the little amount of her personal belongings lying about - there wouldn't be much packing when she would have finally decided to pick herself off the ground.

- I'll guide you.

- What if you disappear?

- I won't.

- What if I don't want to go? What if you only tell me that you are leading me to the castle, while in reality you will lead me to Dracula? That is actually most probably what is going to happen, - Shari finally expressed her greatest worry and doubt. She could not just trust Lisa, she wanted to, but couldn't bring herself to do so. The woman was most probably still here because of them - Dracula and Adrian - so her greatest concern would be to stop their fight in any way possible in order to finally peacefully leave them, not care about some girl getting hurt in the process.

- I believe you will just have to trust me. I have told you already, I only want to stop this war with as little blood as possible, especially when it comes to Adrian’s or Vlad-I meant Dracula’s blood. You will be of very little help to me if I simply spend time leading you to your death. Besides, I shall remind you, that your illness is not exactly leading you to a happy life, so you decided trusting me on that one, - Lisa winked at her and stood up; Shari clenched her teeth: well, that was a very good point, but definitely a blow-below-the-waist strategy. - We should move out, the sooner we start - the quicker we'll be there.

- You know, you're like an older sister that I never wished to have, - Shari huffed in annoyance, but finished her tea quickly and proceeded to pack. The fact that she was annoyed didn't cancel the fact that Lisa was right. She had to move out.

***

The day trip was completely uneventful. The few villages they had passed didn't show any signs of having been attacked, but Lisa still made Shari keep away from them - maybe it was for the best, people were very unsafe these days, the fear made them aggressive to any newcomers. Especially to ones possessing magical powers and followed by black wolf-demons. Going alone to such a village could be suicidal.

It was only at the age of ten, that Shari found out she had it in her. That one trait that made people wish your head on a pike no matter how you behave. Animals weren't just "friendly" with her, no-no, friendly is one understandable thing, especially with a little child. However, "friendly" is definitely not the most accurate description of the behaviour of the large black wolf that almost attacked her one day on the edge of the woods, stopping in mid-jump as the girl turned to face it - next picture: the wolf rolling on the ground before her like and ordinary dog demanding bellyrubs. The animals would not simply like her, they would obey her as if she spoke to them directly. She had no idea where the power came from and so preferred to think she was born into her witchcraft. Her mother insisted upon it too, saying that poor old gramma was the same odd thing in her youth. At least that was what Shari remembered her saying when they did discuss her little problem. That was until she turned sixteen – until she suddenly was separate from her family and out on her own. Until the first time the people wanted to get her burned. First of many more to come.She had learned to control herself and make use of herself, never expressing anything people would see as dark wizardry, nothing even seemingly malevolent, working for the local healer, helping out as much as she could and learning some things here or there by herself about herbs and illnesses - not a study, barely a child's curiosity.

Then it was a year of particularly poor crops after an awfully dry summer, Shari sensed it was coming before she ever knew why it was so - the villagers had no other way of dealing with such misfortunes. They placed all the blame on the odd girl who learned to cure wounds and diseases and spoke to the wild animals as she pleased. Burning witches was a very common sacrifice, after all.

The night before the burning was the night she ran. She knew they would come for her, so she escaped before they could get her, left her home to set to travel into unknown. And never truly stopped running ever since.

Lisa pitied her for that, even though Shari tried to brush it off as nothing. She was a witch after all and turned to be quite a good thief, quite some reason for the other humans to hate her already, even though she couldn't say theft pleased her herself - she was surviving the way she could: moving about and healing didn't ever buy her enough bread or material. The longest she ever stayed in a town was three months - then the cycle had to start over.

Lisa understood her reasoning for that quite well. At first she wanted to argue that staying longer might have bought Shari some trust, but held her tongue - she wasn't one to give that sort of advice, not now, not after everything that happened to her exactly for staying a little too long.

When they finally stopped for the night, Shari was almost falling - her legs unwilling to carry her anymore - and bending over in loud wet coughs, feeling the taste of her own blood in her mouth and suffocating in attempts to hold back from even more coughing. The freezing weather and bloodloss, even compensated with Sypha's magic, were not going to make this journey easier for her. Shari felt the feather light caress of the ghost's hand on her back and breathed in deeply, trying to calm her heartrate.

There was pain in her ribs now too - she was scratched quite badly a few days ago by one of the attacking demons. They were fighting off several of the things and one jumped her from behind: neither she nor Rodo had noticed it before. Shari succeeded in turning to face it, making the demon bounce off her and back away as soon as she made eye contact - these things were usually not much harder to control than wolves, especially with Rodo at her side. Unfortunately, before she managed to kick it off completely, the demon had left an unpleasant scratch across her ribcage, making her fall to the ground and lose the mental contact - the beast jumped back on her in a matter of seconds and for a moment Shari thought that would be her end. Only by luck Adrian was swift enough to protect her, fighting the thing away and aiding her to recover later - the sharp claws left three deep gashes on her skin and the girl had to spend a long time tending to herself after the fight, hoping the wound would not get infected with whatever those things could carry on their paws.

The wound had been nicely bandaged before, all was going well, but apparently Dracula's attack had erased that bit of responsibility from her memory and now Shari suddenly faced yet another problem: rebandaging was not only desirable, but very much a necessity by the time she dropped to the ground, settling for the night. The soaked and dried blood on the old bands now scratched and tore at the healing wound, causing her pain.

- ‘T is okay, - she told the ghost, quickly going to sit down on the ground. Removing the band did not take much time as well as putting on a new one-not when she was used to doing it anyways, but removing a part of her clothes let the cold bite her even more in the process, so when she was finished, she was freezing to the bone, so she wrapped herself in whatever warm cloths she had left and pressed closer to Rodo, to keep at least some body heat to herself. They decided to make no fires, as Shari was now mostly defenseless and the girl already felt how much she would regret parting ways with her friends. Lisa's care and Rodo's warm side couldn't do much to keep away the cold and her lungs were almost screaming in protest. She looked at Lisa's pitiful apologetic face and whispered: - I'm already used to it, - no you aren't, this is getting worse by second and you desperately need a fire.

- You have to fall asleep quickly. Tomorrow we'll start off at dusk, - Shari lay between Rodo's back and a large tree trunk; Lisa sat next to her head, looking down at the tired healer.

- I wish it was just as easy for me to move as it is for you, - Shari whispered sleepily.

- Trust me, you don't, - both laughed.

- How much is there left? Of the way?

- If you're lucky - and persistent, we may be there by tomorrow night, - Lisa answered reassuringly.

- Really? That's so fast... Too fast, to be fair. I thought the castle was hard to catch, - she stared back at Lisa.

- Parts of it yes, it moves as a whole. But there are stable parts - that one particular entrance was the one I used when I first found him. It was very hard to track - not many know about it, it's kind of in magically protected grounds or something - nobody has the incentive to go there, - the ghost explained.

- But you had, - Shari smirked.

- Of course I had.

- I wonder how he hadn’t killed you straight away.

- Oh, but he wanted to. He tried to frighten me – told me he would drink my blood, all that classical stuff.

- So what did you do?

- Told him his manners needed repolishing.

Pause. Shari chuckled. Then snorted. Then laughed out loud.

- And he did not murder you for such an offense?

- I believe he wanted to for a moment, but was too startled to act… And then it sort of…happened. I believe it was a big “why not” for both of us, until we suddenly saw something deeper to it, - Lisa smiled to herself, seemingly diving through memories.

- Sounds a little like me meeting Adrian for the first time – God knows I saw those large fangs and yellow eyes straight away, I knew very well what he was, just couldn’t…

- Can’t beware the dark, when it’s choice between stepping in or watching someone suffer?

- Something of the kind. My self-preservation goes way below. I called him in when I saw him bleeding out by the edge of the town – half expected him to drain me as soon as I bandaged him and when he… well, as you can see, didn’t… We just talked. He stayed over for a week gaining strength, not attempting to eat me – I guess that was the first out of the only two occasions when someone I have helped did not try to accuse me of devilish business in one way or another and just accepted the help. Of course he had to be not human.

- The second time that happened was with Rodo, wasn’t it? Humans don’t tend to be overly grateful.

Both chuckled.

- Adrian seems quite attached to you, - Lisa turned to Shari. – Thanks for that. For accepting him. I was always worried that he will have a hard time fitting in…pretty much anywhere, being what he is. So thank you.

- No need to. He is nice, your son. Feels like having a friend for once.

Pause. Shari shrugged and sighed.

- Tomorrow, you said, right? Though I can't say that I'm exactly lucky, so your prediction about the time is probably too optimistic, we are bound to have some struggle tomorrow,- she huffed, turning to her side and snuggling to Rodo's furry back.

- The castle shouldn't be so far away, it is quite close to Tragoviste, shouldn't have taken us long, - Lisa explained. - And you are lucky, sunshine - remember? You survived Dracula's bite. That mark on your neck is your lucky ticket now, - Lisa winked and lay back against the tree trunk. Shari wanted to think of a witty reply, but was interrupted by another violent fit of cough and decided to let it go. The healer cuddled into Rodo’s warm side and fell into uneasy sleep, hoping that the morning would bring at least some relief.

#castlevania #dracula x oc #dracula x reader #adrian tepes #alucard #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #adrian is such a sweetheart #lisa tepes

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se0kie · 4 years

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heat of the moment- knj (m)

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: pwp, it’s pure smut i’m so sorry

established relationship, werewolf!joon, classic heat trope

warnings: *deep breath* let’s see if i can get it all?? dom!knj, sub!reader, heat sex, possessive sex, marking, biting, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, choking, rough handling, dirty talk, degradation, use of bitch/whore/slut, multiple orgasms, impreg kink, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, mentions of blood, namjoon has a big cock (duh)

tagging @ironicarmy fellow microtip pen enthusiast ^3^

not edited oop so you’re just gonna have to ignore the shitty mistakes

summary: you love your werewolf boyfriend, heightened senses and all. you’ve also begged him to let you help him through his agonising heats that torture him every month but the overprotective man he is, he will absolutely not let you near him when he’s so feral. but now he’s standing outside your door and asking to fuck a baby into you. are you ready for that wild ride?

a/n: i have no explanations for this behaviour. this is like 0 plot and all filth, I am so sorry. Horrific overuse of ellipses and uhhhhh,,,,, yeah it’s a product of my inner whore thirsting for Namjoon that’s about it.

You had been having a quiet evening to yourself, safe in the knowledge that your werewolf boyfriend was out on a hunt with his buds and all your work had been done and dusted. You were free to have a peaceful weekend all to yourself filled with self care and trashy movies.

Your dear boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, you had met him in college when he was a senior and you were just a bubbly new freshman.

You had instantly clicked and went forth to become the closest pair in all of Saint Wilson’s Arts University.

Enamoured by his height and intellect since the very first interaction, you had spent a whole year and a half crushing on him like a fourteen year old schoolgirl.

He had told you about his supernatural genes a week before asking you out on a date. And you had been together since.

Werewolves and vampires weren’t unknown to you, you were aware of their existence, but you had never thought that you would meet one.

You adjusted to Namjoon’s wolf characteristics better than you thought possible.

Sure he was warm like a furnace, and yeah he did have a terrible habit of spending hours scenting you so that anyone within 50 feet of you would know you’re taken.

Despite his somewhat difficult behaviour you loved him with every fibre of your being. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky and he swore he would give you anything your heart desired.

Well... except one thing.

Ever since you had been told about the mating behaviour of werewolves and the monthly period of sexual craze that they were subjected to, you had wanted to help Joon out with his.

You had seen documentaries and read papers on the topic. You had learned everything there was to know about werewolf behaviour yet their strange heats boggled your mind more than anything else.

The sheer amount of pain and need that they felt every single month for a whole week, it saddened you to know that you could be helping your boyfriend out but he wouldn’t let you.

Instead choosing to tie himself up with heavy, blessed chains and have his six best friends keep watch.

You had given up after trying for a year straight, deciding that he would entrust you with helping him with his heats when he was comfortable with the idea.

Namjoon was a big man, standing tall at 6 feet with broad shoulders, heavy biceps and sculpted legs, he was scared of hurting you while giving in to his most primal instincts to claim you.

He had chosen you as his mate, his one love for his one life, and being the alpha’s son it was harder for him to control his needs.

So being near fragile, human you when all he could think of was sinking his fangs into your neck and breeding you was out of the question.

Coming back to your peaceful evening, you had just cuddled up with your fluffy blankets and a mug of hot cocoa when you heard the bell ring, the shrill noise resounding through your home.

You weren’t expecting anyone but knowing how impulsive your friends were you got up to open the door nonetheless.

Imagine your surprise when you see your giant of a boyfriend standing outside the threshold of your home, sweat dripping down his large body as he radiated heat.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Joon? What happened? Weren’t you out on a hunt, are you hurt?!”

Concern washed over you as you scanned his frame to look for any possible wounds.

Namjoon shook his head, movements tight and controlled, “No Y/N, I’m fine. I had to leave the hunt halfway.”

“What? Why?” you questioned.

“My heat arrived early.”

Oh.

“Ohhhh...” you thought to yourself as realisation sank into you.

“Joon, sweetie is it okay for you to be here? Did you need something before the isolation?” You couldn’t fathom why he would be here if his heat was upon him.

Unless...

No, he wouldn’t. You shouldn’t get your hopes up.

Suddenly you realised that he was still standing outside your shared apartment like a stranger, you stepped aside gesturing at him to come in.

As he stepped inside you closed the door. You noticed how his movements were stiff and rigid, an aura of tension clouding him.

“Is it alright for you to be back home, Joon?” you said softly, “Y’know, considering your uh... situation?”

You could hear his breathing in the silent room; slow, deep and controlled.

“Y/N, what if I told you that I wanted to mark you right now?” he said in a sudden rush.

You heard your sharp inhale, the question surprising you. But you knew the answer already, it was easy.

“I’d let you. Why?” You said without hesitation, carefully selecting your words you asked, “Do you want to?”

“I wasn’t expecting my heat to arrive this early, I had no idea why it happened in the middle of a hunt... But then I understood when I was standing outside the door.”

He said, “Y/N you’re ovulating.”

“Oh... wow, Joon are you trying to say what I think you’re saying?”

He looked at you as if he was calculating what to say next so as not to scare you away from him.

“Y/N, my wolf refuses anyone else, I know you know of how I used other bitches from the pack to keep myself sated during my previous hunts,” he said casually, the word bitch had very different connotations for humans and werewolves you had come to know.

You could feel your heart twinge in jealousy.

It was a sensitive topic for you, on one hand you really wanted Namjoon to be as comfortable and safe during his heats even if it meant sleeping with someone else; but it also really, really hurt to picture him in bed with the other gorgeous women of his pack.

You were insecure of your mundane genes, often comparing yourself with the strong and fierce she-wolves who had helped your boyfriend through his heats.

Namjoon spoke softly, “The past few months my wolf has been rejecting anyone who isn’t you. He wants to mate you, mark you as ours. Your ovulation must’ve sped up my heat. I can’t go on anymore without making you mine Y/N... for good.”

You were feeling strangely warm, you had obviously had sex with your boyfriend but you knew heat sex was in an entirely different league of its own.

All you could do now was nod your consent.

Namjoon stepped towards you, hands reaching out to capture your waist as his head lowered to your face.

His cheek grazing against yours, his lips brushed your earlobe as he mumbled into your ear, “Let me fuck a baby into you, Y/N. Let me breed you, please.”

You whined unconsciously at his words. Your belly warm and heat seeping through your panties. You whispered back, “Y-yes.”

With a swift change in demeanour his lips came crashing down to yours, large and calloused hands grabbing roughly at your hips as if afraid to let you go.

He growled into the kiss, his usually soft lips now tasting different because of the sheer dominance that radiated off of him.

His tongue swept against yours, making you moan wildly into his mouth, your own smaller hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders, fingers finding purchase in the thick, soft hair that curled gently at the nape of his neck.

His hand roamed south to the flesh of your ass as he cupped them with his hands and squeezed a cheek, tearing a gasp from your mouth at the surprising gesture.

Begrudgingly he pulled away from the kiss, releasing soft pants courtesy of your little makeout sesh, “Y/N I’ll ask you again, sweetheart. Are you absolutely sure you want me to mark you?”

You didn’t know if you had it in you to verbally say it, so you nodded shyly.

One of his hands came up to your chin as he gently angled your face upwards to gaze directly into his eyes.

“Use your words angel, a nod isn’t consent,” he rasped.

“I want you, Joon,” you whimpered as your eyes fell to the floor once again, unable to face your boyfriend as you openly declared your need for him.

“I want to be yours, only yours.”

You felt, rather than saw the smile creeping onto his expression.

He cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His bulge pressing against your core. You whimpered at the soft brushes of his crotch against your clothed clit with each step he took towards your bedroom.

You giggled, the rush of hormones making you feel lightheaded as you whispered into his ear, “You grew really fast, Joonbug. Happy to see me?”

Namjoon chuckled under his breath as he looked at the spot where your cores met, and then when he brought his gaze up to meet yours you could see the shift in personality.

Your little puppy was gone. This man right here in front of you was all wolf.

He smirked at you before he answered softly, “That’s just half-hard, angel.”

Your eyes grew comically wide, surprise etched onto your expression as you once again looked down to the bulge in his trousers.

That’s what it usually looked like when you fooled around before.

You looked back up at him with questioning as he answered your unasked question, “I... change, during my heats. A lot of things about my body are going to be different when I’m like this. But I promise I’ll be very, very gentle.” He said with a soothing smile. His voice calming you down even when loaded with lust.

Slowly his arms fell to your sides as he brought your (his) sweatshirt over your head and threw it aside, followed by your shorts and then your panties.

It felt weird, being naked in front of a fully clothed Namjoon. But it also somehow made you feel safe, as if you could trust him with every piece of yourself.

Namjoon then laid you down on the bed, his hands travelling from your neck down to your heaving breasts.

His mouth working at your jaw as his skilled hands massaged the flesh of your chest, palming your nipples as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the stiff peaks.

He kissed the spot at the base of your throat that had you gushing wetness out onto the sheets. His fingers skimmed across your stomach as he finally, finally touched your core, drawing a surprised gasp from you.

His middle finger swept across your sensitive nub as he spread your juices around, stroking it and sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves.

Two fingers sank into your warm opening as he gasped at the feeling of your tight grip around him. Slowly pushing them in, in an attempt to prepare you for what’s to come.

You could hear the wet, squelching noises emanating from your cunt as Namjoon’s fingers fastened their pace.

He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from the view, his thick fingers thrusting into your pretty, quivering pussy. Creamy juices flowing down your thighs as you gasped his name softly in a medley of moans and whimpers.

You tried to straighten out your legs to cope with the intense pleasure building at the pit of your belly, warmth flowing through your body as you felt yourself get closer to that familiar edge.

Namjoon’s fingers curled as the tips grazed against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars every time.

You could vaguely make out the sound of his voice, as if you were listening through glass, “Cum for me, angel. Feel my fingers inside your filthy, little cunt and cum for me.” That was all it took for the dam inside you to burst as you groaned in pleasure. Your cunt quivering around your boyfriend’s fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

The both of you waited a few moments, listening to each other’s breathing when you sat up straight and leaned foward to whisper in his ear, “Come on, it’s my turn to help you out.”

Namjoon, to your surprise, shook his head in refusal. “If you suck me off I’ll finish in ten seconds and the only place I’m cumming tonight is in your pussy, baby girl.”

You could feel the goosbumps rising on your arms at his words. He reached out and pushed you down once again, “I’ve got to prepare you well if you’re gonna take my cock, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his fingers down your torso, “So lie back, and let me taste you.”

You could feel him grinning against your thighs, his hot breath on your messy cunt making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue swiped a kitten lick up and down your lips as a single finger pressed against your abused clit. The warm and wet appendage nudging at your opening as you gasped at the sensation.

You reached down to your boyfriend’s head between your thighs and roughly grasped strands of his hair in an attempt to cope with the overstimulation.

Soft, long strokes against your core sending shocks down to your toes as you arched your back against the sheets. Already reeling from your previous orgasm you could feel yourself reaching the end once again, much faster this time.

You felt incredibly hot, sweat forming on your forehead as Namjoon teased your clit with his mouth, gently nipping the bud with his teeth.

His hot tongue poked at your entrance and ever so gently eased in, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

He looked up at you with his mouth still on your core, smirking and the next thing you knew you were bursting with pleasure, hot liquid splashing on your thighs as your legs jerked violently through your climax.

You could hear Namjoon’s faint chuckles, “Whoa Y/N, did I just make you squirt?” You blushed and covered your eyes with your fingers to escape his shit-eating grin. But his strong arms pulled your much smaller hands away from your face as he sat up towards you and attacked your neck once again.

His soft, plump lips mouthing at your collarbones as he drew marks across the skin. Blood red splotches that were sure to turn purple the next day. Namjoon murmured softly, “You’re mine. All of you, it’s all mine. Isn’t it, Y/N?”

You hummed in respone as you threw your head back and relished in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he bit and marked you to his desire.

He pulled back after what felt like minutes, the faint light of the moon creating a halo behind his back.

His large frame towering over yours as he spread your legs with a grip on your thighs.

He rushed to pull his t-shirt off his sculpted torso as you fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, helping him to discard the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

The sight of his naked cock drew an audible gasp from you, it was double the size you were used to and angry red in colour. The weeping slit at the head thoroughly wetting his shaft with precum.

Namjoon touched your cheek gently to calm you, he rubbed his cock up and down your messy cunt. You leaned into his palm as he finally nudged at your opening.

You tried hard not to scream as he pushed the rest of it in, pain and pleasure intermingling as you felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and whispered, “It’s okay, angel. Relax, take your time and get used to me, okay?”

You mumbled a small, “Mhm, okay.” Your voice straining as you felt like you were being split open. Minutes flew by and gradually you grew used to Namjoon’s size and girth inside you.

You mumbled, “You can move now, Joon.”

You could see the result of holding himself back in his expression and the way his arms shook around you.

You knew being so close to you and still not going feral was extremely difficult for him, let alone impossible for younger wolves.

But you also knew that he would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant depriving himself of his most primal instincts instead of fucking you senseless.

He nodded in response and gave you an experimental thrust. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. His cock was so large you were stuffed full with no escape.

But you wanted more. You were done with being treated like a glass doll, you wanted him to let go and fuck you like he would any other she-wolf from his pack.

“I thought werewolves were tougher than this when they fucked. Or is it just you who’s scared to hurt me?” you piped up, feeling unusually feisty.

Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes piercing into yours, expression hardening upon hearing your remark. “You wanted to fuck a werewolf so bad,” he spoke softly, “Well then, take it like a big girl, Y/N.”

He thrust into you exceptionally hard, your body moving up against the mattress because of the force. His deliciously thick cock dragging against the soft, wet muscles of your cunt as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull while you tried to process the immense pleasure running through you. Namjoon’s hands gripping your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge, every nerve of Namjoon’s cock plunging into your pussy.

The squelching, wet noises emanating from your sex making you feel even more perverse, the obscene sounds filling your ears as you turned wetter by the second at the feel of his blunt cockhead buried deep inside you, massaging the spot that made you see stars.

Pleasure shooting through your veins and warming your belly as you felt the mixture of your juices and his precum slide down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass.

Rough, calloused hands gripping at the soft flesh of your hips with such force you were sure to find purple bruises littered the next day.

“J-joon, please make me cum. I wanna cum so bad, I can’t take it anymore! Please!” you garbled through the impact of his powerful thrusts, the sheer speed and force slamming you back into the bed with each movement of his hips.

You could hear him chuckle in your ear, the bastard.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N, be a good girl for me. You’ll cum when I want you to.” He grunted, “For now, you’re just gonna have to take it.”

A whine of frustration left your lips, the sinful noises combining with Namjoon’s almost painfully big cock assaulting your poor pussy.

You could hear your boyfriend whisper above you, “I wish you could look at your pussy right now. Oh god you’re so swollen, you’re dripping all over my cock like the little cumslut you are, waiting for me to give you my seed.”

You clenched around his cock at the thought of being filled with cum.

His cum.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter, angel. You like that, huh? You want me to fuck my cum into you, breed you like my obedient little bitch? Gonna fill you up with my cum so you can carry my pups, my pretty little whore.”

You whined at his words, just the image of your poor, abused cunt filled with his thick cum had you salivating.

To your surprise, he had you flipped over and onto your stomach in the matter of a second.

Your ass raised instinctively while he gripped your hips with one hand with the other secure on your neck, squeezing just lightly enough to let you breathe but tight enough for you to know who owned you.

His hips snapped into yours rhythmically, his groans falling like music in your ears. Your tits bounced against your chest with each thrust he threw upon you. His balls slapped against your clit with every rough thrust, adding more to your already throbbing core.

You could feel the hot tears run down your cheeks, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much for you to process.

The luxurious ache returning to your core you moaned his name without a care for who listened.

You could feel his hot breath nearing your neck as he drew his face close to your shoulder.

His teeth sank into the flesh as you screamed in pleasure and pain. Searing hot shocks ran through your veins as Namjoon licked at the thin rivulets of blood running down your skin. The tears flowing once again as you gasped from the thrusts.

The thought of being marked and belonging to your man had you squeezing against the large cock inside you. Namjoon had stood you up so now your back was pressed up against his hard chest while he pistoned into your thoroughly used cunt.

The hand that was once at your hip came down to rub at your neglected clit as you gasped and moaned in pleasure, the incredible pressure inside you building rapidly. His hand at your throat gently squeezing, just the way you liked it.

Namjoon’s fingers were furiously rubbing at your nub using your combined juices as lube. You had barely the energy to mumble, “Joon, I-I’m cumming! Please, baby I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum!”

You knew you sounded pathetic but to your fortune Namjoon was close to his end too, his grip having gone considerably harsher and cock largened even more inside you.

“Let go for me, slut.” he growled into your ear as you crashed once again, this time even harder thanks to the added stimulation, knowing that you were marked and now rightfully intertwined with the love of your life.

Namjoon came with a grotesque growl, hot, thick cum spurting inside you as he laid you down once again.

Hovering over you as he shot rope upon rope of his seed inside your warm, welcoming cunt.

After a minute when he was sure he was all drained out he removed his cock and instead plugged two fingers inside you, saying with an apologetic, “Gotta make sure we don’t spill.”

You giggled at his strange, instinctive behaviour.

“You know that’s not how it works, don’t you?” you said with a tired smile.

He looked at you with overwhelming love and tenderness, that favourite smile of yours painting across his beautiful face.

“Wolf habits die hard, I guess?”

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luxekook · 5 years

Text

love bites | ksj

*written for the FWL luv library project*

⇥ pairing: kim seokjin x reader

⇥ genre: non-idol au, co-workers to lovers, smut, fluff

⇥ summary: you’re stuck working the evening shift on valentine’s day at bangtan bistro. as the city’s most expensive and exclusive restaurant, the bistro draws in couples both old and new with partners looking to propose or to impress. your tolerance for PDA and cringey lovebirds has never been lower. throw a flirty chef into the mix and you’re in for a bumpy ride that might just conclude with a happy ending.

⇥ word count: 5.4k

⇥ warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, bad puns from jin, numerous health-code violations (from fraternizing all up in that kitchen), oral (m + f receiving), protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it, folks), workplace romance, threats of violence from yoongi

⇥ beta'd by the amazing @shadowsremedy (thank you, heath! could not have done this without you, your feedback, and your general support!)

“Will you marry me?”

I screech to a halt, completely astounded at the goddamned audacity of the man kneeling before me. Did he really just ask that? At a time like this?

I shift my weight from one foot to the other as I try not to outwardly show my disgust over the scene unfolding before my very eyes.

“Oh my god, Chad!” The date of this Chad finally launches herself from her seat and into his arms, “Yes!”

The restaurant breaks into applause. My forehead breaks into a sweat.

My left arm feels like it might snap at any moment under the weight of the tray of food that I’m meant to be serving this goddamn theatrical couple. The thought of quitting crosses my mind for the umpteenth time that evening.

A camera flash temporarily stuns me, and I feel a tiny twinge of satisfaction. My looming presence in that commemorative photo will hopefully be a reminder to let servers do their damn job before launching into a whole ordeal.

God, I must have been off my fucking rocker when I agreed to work the Valentine’s Day dinner shift. At least the tip money would be worth it.

Gritting my teeth, I flash my best fake smile and offer words of congratulations to the sniffling couple who finally reclaimed their seats.

“Enjoy your meal,” my mouth says with a smile.

“I wish I could sear you like that filet mignon you ordered, Chad,” my glare says with promise.

Thirty seconds later, I’m in full whisper-rant mode at the corner server station. My friend and fellow server Tabby half-listens as she punches in an order at the kiosk.

“And then this Chad in his fucking khaki suit flails to the ground to pop the question like he didn’t see me walking towards them with all seven entrees they ordered. So then I’m stuck hovering over their table with a giant-ass tray of food while they cry and hug and kiss until, finally, finally, they park it back in their seats so I can serve them.”

I groan, hitting my head against the wall, “What did I do in a past life to deserve this?”

“Kill someone, probably,” a voice pipes up from behind the station’s kitchen window, “Oh wait, you would do that in this life, too.”

Kim Seokjin, head chef of Bangtan Bistro and my partial employer, is leaning over the window’s counter, eyes full of mischief as he watches me.

“Oh, what’s this? Are you volunteering to be my very first victim?” I mirror his position leaning over the window’s counter and give him my best side-eye, “I’ll send you my application for victims on Google Docs.”

“Sounds kinky,” Seokjin grins, “Count me in. My Gmail username is Hugh Chefner. No capitals or spaces.”

“I despise you,” I say biting back a smile.

“You lo-o-ove me!” He sings, heading back into the depths of the hectic kitchen.

And, unfortunately, he’s right. Damn Kim Seokjin and his insane level of gorgeousness, charisma, and dramatics.

Against my better judgment, Seokjin has shimmied his chaotic self right into my well-guarded heart. Despite all of the prickliness my typical demeanor displays, I can’t help but melt under the warm gaze of such a handsome man.

Seokjin is the first person that has ever been able to pique my interest lately and keep it. Yes, it might have something to do with his extreme attractiveness; but, it more-so has everything to do with his genuine kindness and weird sense of humor.

Shit, I’ve gone soft. If we’re arguing Nature vs. Nurture here, this is totally Nurture’s fault.

Bangtan Bistro is co-owned by seven men - each as fine as the next. Being surrounded by good-looking and kind-hearted men day in and day out will definitely fuck with your brain, your body, and eventually even your fucking heart.

Kim Namjoon, a tall, dimpled sweetheart of a man, acts as general manager. Namjoon typically resides in the back office of the restaurant running numbers and going over other business ventures. He used to frequent the front of the restaurant to check on customers, but Jimin has since banned him from that activity after the infamous Spaghetti Incident of 2019.

Park Jimin, as the overseer of staff and servers, commands the restaurant floor with a crinkly-eyed smile and a ferocious temper. Fortunately for his direct subordinates (READ: me), his temper is most likely to be focused on rude customers and his messy business partners. Jimin honestly is the ideal boss because he has our backs and will never hesitate to help anyone out.

Late one Saturday evening, a man refused to leave the restaurant after being cut off from his bar tab. Jimin full-on squared up with him in defense of the poor server who had to break the news to the drunk patron. Luckily, the Bistro’s head of security, Jeon Jungkook, took over before Jimin actually popped off.

Jungkook, as the youngest partner, is shockingly tall and muscular. He definitely provides the intimidation needed for those types of escalating incidents. Despite his tough exterior, Jungkook is a complete softie.

I once caught Jungkook in the kitchen after close attempting to make cookies for a girl he had a crush on. I walked in to see Jungkook standing over a tray of the unidentifiable charred monstrosities and pouting in the most ridiculous way. Needless to say, I helped him bake a new batch with the oven not turned up to 500 degrees so that “they would cook faster”.

Min Yoongi had found the pair of us bickering and had just rolled his eyes and scooped a mouthful of raw cookie dough. As the head bartender, Yoongi is the absolute best at mixing drinks and the absolute worst at customer service. I swear the man gets far too much pleasure from getting people thrown out. He’s also notorious for watering down the drinks of customers he doesn’t like. He’s petty like that. I live for it.

Once, Jung Hoseok tried to take a picture of Yoongi for the restaurant’s website, and Yoongi threatened to shove a sharpened cocktail umbrella through Hoseok’s eye. I had never seen the Bistro’s head of marketing and resident sunshine flee so fast. Hoseok later ended up using an old picture of Yoongi in retaliation; rumor has it Yoongi is still plotting his revenge to this day.

Kim Taehyung often grumbles about how he’s going to be put out of a job since the restaurant naturally provides daily entertainment. As the head of entertainment and events, Taehyung helps to secure live music and special guests. He’s also the most handsome man I have ever seen - with the exception of one Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin, as head chef, is responsible for planning the seasonal menus, overseeing the kitchen staff, and preparing the more challenging dishes. He’s even taken it upon himself to be the resident comedian, which the other six partners vehemently and openly detest. Still, that backlash has not stopped him from naming each evening special with puns. His last Seokjin Special was called “Chicken Pot Bye Felicia”. It had resulted in Yoongi banning Seokjin from the restaurant for a full week. He still hasn’t dared to make another pun, but I can tell it will only be a matter of time.

Basically, Seokjin is an entirely goofy and beautiful mess of a human. Yet, I can’t stop myself from falling deeper and deeper into the trap that is loving someone outside of your league.

When I first arrived at the Bistro for my inaugural shift, I was greeted enthusiastically by Jimin, who I’d met previously in my interview. Jimin had introduced me to each of his partners - each as handsome as the last. Honestly, my eyes and nerves had been exhausted after meeting almost all of them. Then Jimin had ushered me into the kitchen.

“Hey, Jin-hyung!” Jimin had yelled over the cacophony of sizzling pans and murmured conversation. I had watched in awe as the hottest man I’ve ever seen entered my line of vision and stopped before me. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a face that could inspire priceless works of art with full pink lips, high cheekbones, and devilish dark eyes.

“You summoned me, Jiminie?” The man had laughed in a slightly squeaky manner before he noticed my presence, “Ah, who might this be?”

I had cleared my throat in hopes that my voice wouldn’t crack under the sheer weight of this man’s attractiveness, “Hi, I’m (y/n). I’m starting today as a server.” and thrust my hand out with a shy smile.

He had blinked. Slowly, a smirk eased onto his face as he grabbed my hand. Instead of shaking it, he had brought it to his lips. “A pleasure. I’m Seokjin,” he had murmured, lips brushing against my knuckles. My cheeks had felt like they were on fire as Jimin screeched at Seokjin for harassing me.

“It’s her first day, Jin! Lay off the theatrics,” Jimin had turned to me, “Sorry about him, (y/n). He’s a desperate flirt.”

“Desperate? Me?” Seokjin gasped, “Worldwide Handsome does not do desperate.”

“Did you just refer to yourself as ‘Worldwide Handsome’?” I had gaped at his open arrogance.

Seokjin proudly had puffed up his chest, “Yes. What else could I possibly be called?”

“Well, definitely not Worldwide Humble,” My mouth had said before my brain caught up.

The room had seemed to pause before Jimin erupted in peals of laughter as Seokjin spluttered, “Yah, Jiminie, you can’t let her talk to me like that!”

Still laughing, Jimin had choked out, “(y/n), you officially have a job here until you die.”

Ever since that first encounter, Seokjin and I have established a working relationship based on banter or what Tabby refers to as ‘flirting’. I refuse to believe that ridiculous notion.

Tabby finally finishes entering her order into the kiosk and turns to me, “So, any hot plans for tonight?” Her eyebrows wiggle up and down suggestively.

“Does solo Netflix and chill count as hot plans?” I deadpan as I peer around the server station divider to covertly check on my tables. I lock eyes on Chad and his fiancé, who already seem to be arguing, and I make an executive decision to not go check how their meal is going.

“No!” Tabby’s whisper-yell commands my attention, “That definitely does not count, (y/n). Why didn’t you find someone on Tinder? I even made you that bomb-ass profile.”

I pointedly look everywhere but at her.

“You deleted the app, didn’t you,” she glares at me, arms folded, “I slaved over that profile! There were only so many tasteful cleavage shots of my best friend that I could stomach in one sitting!”

“What the fuck, Tabby! Since when do I have any—”

“Tasteful cleavage shots?” Seokjin’s elated voice practically shouts from the kitchen, “Let me at ‘em.”

His hands launch towards us through the kitchen window and make grabbing motions.

“Seokjin,” I tsk mockingly, “Are you trying to grab my tits again?”

“Again?” Tabby cries, whirling on Seokjin, who looks at us in horror.

“I wasn’t! I swear! I just wanted to see the pictures! I didn’t want to grab your boobs…” He trails off, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘not any more than usual, anyway’.

“Seokjin-hyung! (y/n)!” Jimin blazes into the service station, “I’ve had it up to here with your bickering. You’re both on closing duties tonight - alone.”

“What?” I exclaim as Tabby slinks away. Traitor. “We’re just joking with each other! Right, Seokjin?”

Jimin’s gaze swings from me to Seokjin, who is suddenly suspiciously calm. My eyes narrow. A silent conversation is definitely happening without my participation.

Finally, Seokjin just shrugs with a grin, “Sounds fair to me, Jiminie! (y/n) and I will work hard all night if we have to.”

“Fair?” I choke, “All night?”

Jimin, following Tabby’s lead, scurries away as my attention is diverted by Seokjin’s idiocy. “Scared to be alone with me, (y/n)?” Seokjin’s lips break into a sly smile, “Don’t worry, I don’t bite… much.”

With that parting remark, Seokjin winks at me and disappears back into the kitchen.

“Fuck me,” I breathe out. How would I survive this?

Five hours later, the last patron has been ushered out of the restaurant with the staff right on their heels. I curse as Yoongi waltzes out the door, fanning himself with a crisp fifty-dollar bill and winking obnoxiously. “Have fun!” He cackles, locking the restaurant doors behind him.

“No, please don’t offer to stay and help,” I grumble, sweeping stray pieces of lettuce out from under a table, “I am more than happy to stay here until the ass-crack of dawn with the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.”

“The biggest, huh?” The voice chuckles right in my ear, “How did you know?”

“Goddamnit, Seokjin!” I slap a hand to my heart, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, you oaf!”

Whirling to face him, I stutter to a halt. He’s taken off his heavy chef’s coat and is now left in a tight black t-shirt that clings to his body in a manner that has to be illegal.

I swallow hard, and for a split second, I swear Seokjin’s gaze latches onto my throat.

“Is it hot in here?” I mutter distractedly, tugging at the collar of my stiff white button-down.

“Yes,” Seokjin practically purrs, “It’s scorching.”

Choosing not to acknowledge him, I spin on my heels, grabbing the full dustpan of debris I collected and head towards the back of the restaurant.

Emptying the dustpan in the trash, I walk over to the supply closet to return the broom. The restaurant floor is finished. Now, I just had to see how much of the kitchen Seokjin actually cleaned.

Pushing through the swinging doors of the kitchen, I screech to a halt as I’m faced with a complete and utter miracle.

“What in tarnation?” I gasp, taking in the pristine kitchen full of glistening stainless steel and sparkling countertops. “Kim Seokjin!” I yell, “You damn wizard! How the fuck did you clean everything this fast?”

“You could say I was motivated,” his reply sounds entirely too close. I spin to face him and gape as I notice the bouquet of red roses that he’s holding out to me.

Taking in my speechless appearance, Seokjin smiles smugly and opens his mouth to continue.

I cut him off, “Tell me those aren’t the roses from the fucking table centerpieces... I threw those in the trash, Seokjin!”

His ears turn an alarming shade of magenta, “Yah, just accept the gesture, (y/n)! This is peak romance, you know!”

“They are covered in filth, dude!” I squint, peering closer, “Is that a piece of spaghetti in there?”

Seokjin yeets the makeshift bouquet back into the garbage, “Why can’t you just appreciate my efforts?” He pouts excessively, “Don’t you like me?”

Red alert. Red alert, my mind whirs.

“Sure,” I let out a nervous laugh, “We’re friends. Of course, I like you.”

He steps towards me, “Sure, we’re friends, (y/n), but friends don’t usually want to fuck each other.”

That bitch said what now?

“Did you inhale too much Clorox?” I panic, “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” Thrusting three fingers in front of Seokjin’s amused face, I widen my eyes as he suddenly grabs my hand.

“Baby,” he says lowly, sending a delicious shiver down my spine, “If you keep being so adorable, I may just have to keep you.”

Well, shit, okay. “Say less,” I breathe and then immediately slam my mouth shut.

I receive a classic Seokjin grin in return for my idiocy, and my knees shake. Honestly, who the fuck allowed him to be that devastating?

Slowly, his grin slips away, and his eyes ignite with raw desire, “Tell me what you want from me, (y/n).”

My mind short circuits, automatically reverting to my default mode of sass, “Uh, peace and quiet?”

“Really?” Seokjin murmurs, stepping even closer still, “So you don’t want me to kiss you? You don’t want me to turn you over and fuck you until you scream?”

My breathing is ragged. His eyes burn with a hunger I had never seen before, and I’m crumbling.

“Answer me,” Jin demands, desperation seeped in each word, “Please.”

“Seokjin—” I gasp, dumbfounded, “Where the hell is this coming from? We’re coworkers! You’re my boss!”

His eyes flashed darkly as he moved his head closer to mine, “That’s all irrelevant, baby.”

“Irrelevant—!” I stab a finger into his firm chest, “Oh, you little shit, you can’t just say that you want to fuck me and then say that our working relationship is irrelevant! I could get fired. You could get fired!”

“That’s highly unlikely given the fact that everyone else knows my plans to ask you out right now.”

“Hold on a second,” I narrow my eyes, “Are you saying that you purposefully planned for us to stay late tonight to clean the entire goddamn restaurant just so you could ask me out? Are you fucking insane?”

“I prefer the term ‘quirky’,” he quips, “But, yeah, I may have paid everyone $50 to leave us alone for the night.”

“Well, that explains Yoongi… that shady motherfucker,” I internally make note to plot my vengeance. “Why couldn’t you have just slid in my DMs like a normal person, Seokjin?” I groan, “I would have responded to a ‘you up’ with a ‘yes, come over’.”

Seokjin whips out his cell phone. “Does this apply to right now?” he asks, typing furiously.

My phone dings with several Instagram notifications.

hughchefner: u up

hughchefner: wyd

hughchefner: date me?

(y/n): bet

Seokjin’s eyes shoot up to mine after he reads my response, “Really? You agreed to date me by saying ‘bet’ in an Instagram DM?”

“Yup,” I shrug, “No take-backs. Also, to answer your previous questions: Yes, I do want you to kiss me with your insufferable mouth, and, yes, I do want to sit on your dick. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Say less,” Seokjin echoes my earlier statement and captures my mouth with his. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

“(Y/n),” he groans right as my tongue swipes teasingly against his lower lip.

His hands slid down my body, pausing only to squeeze my waist gently before settling firmly on my ass. His fingers dig in hard and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan.

“You like that, baby? You like when I’m rough?” Seokjin pulls his lips off mine and murmurs sinfully, “God, I want to devour you.”

I lift my chin up and challenge, “Do it, you won’t.”

His eyes flare, “Oh, babygirl, you were made for me.” Seokjin’s lips return to mine, moving at a slow but ravenous pace.

Still kissing me, he picks me up and places me on one of the kitchen’s stainless steel counters. His hands grab my thighs, tugging them apart to make room for him to stand between them. A harsh groan rises from the depths of his chest as our bodies align.

I hook one leg around his waist and tug him closer still. Pulling my lips away, I lean my head back as I slowly trace his muscles through his shirt. He watches me with his puffy lips parted, his breathing hard. His eyes are wild and I’m loving every second of it.

The room suddenly feels too hot. My hands dart up to shakily begin undoing the buttons of my shirt. Seokjin’s eyes follow my movements with fascination. “Let me,” he purrs and proceeds to rip my shirt from my body. Buttons scatter on the floor with sorrowful little bounces.

“You bitch,” I yank his hair, “That was my good work shirt.”

“I’ll buy you ten more,” Seokjin’s voice is rough and full of desire as he takes in my lacy white bra. Suddenly, his mouth descends to suck at my nipple through the thin lace.

“Damn, you are so fucking sexy,” he pulls his mouth away, “Can I take this off?”

I nod like a bobblehead in 60mph winds, reaching around my back with one hand to undo the clasp and then throwing my bra clear across the kitchen. It lands on top of one of the fridges and I shrug. I’d retrieve it later.

Seokjin tugs off his own shirt, revealing planes of tanned skin. I don’t hesitate to run my hands up and down the definition of his abs and watch in fascination as his muscles constrict under my touch. I run my hands lower, tracing his defined v-line.

No wonder they call it the Adonis belt, I muse, pondering if he’d let me lick it.

Huffing in impatience at my slow exploration, Seokjin returns his mouth to my nipple and sucks hard. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head. He bites down gently and then blows on my nipple slowly. I moan at the sensation. I watch him through unfocused eyes as his hand slides down the front of my body. He reaches the button of my pants and pauses.

Seokjin pulls his mouth away from my nipple, his lips swollen and pink. “You have to say yes, baby.” His breath hits my ear, making me shiver.

I hold out my hand for a high-five and declare, “We stan a man who asks for clear consent.” Chuckling, Seokjin slaps my offered hand and then links his fingers with mine.

“Also,” I continue, looking into his eyes, “It’s a fuck yes.” I pull our linked fingers close to place a kiss on his knuckles.

“Cute,” he grins, “Now, can I take off your pants?”

“Take off yours first,” I order.

“So eager,” he laughs, making quick work of his black jeans. My mouth instantly waters at the sight of his hard cock straining to be released from the confines of his bright red Versace boxer briefs.

“Why am I not surprised that even your underwear is extra?” I mumble, flicking the button of my pants open.

Laughing, Seokjin takes over, tugging my pants down my legs. He then pushes my matching white lace panties aside and cups my pussy, applying pressure. I roll my hips into his hand.

His fingers trace lightly up and down my pussy, before one dips inside me. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans.

“Always,” I breathe out. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from me. I pout. Seokjin laughs at my expression and then licks his finger.

“Jesus fuck, (y/n), you taste so sweet. Let me eat you out,” he pleads.

I smirk, saying, “I thought you’d never ask,” and then gasp as he kneels before me, grabbing my hips. Seokjin moves to tear my underwear off, and I’m quick to place my foot on his forehead to stop his approach. “I swear to god, Seokjin, if you rip these, I will get Namjoon to permanently ban Seokjin Specials.”

“You’re evil,” he grins, “I love it.” He makes a show of slowly taking my panties off before throwing them carelessly behind him. He then yanks the same leg I had used to thwart his panty-tearing plans and throws it over his shoulder before returning his fingers to my pussy. Seokjin’s thumb circles my clit while two of his fingers thrust into me at a maddening rate.

My fingers grip his hair when I finally feel his tongue licking up the juices that have started to run down my thighs.

After sucking what will probably become a massive hickey onto my left inner thigh, his tongue licks a path straight up my folds until it circles around my clit maddeningly. “Goddamnit, Seokjin, stop teasing,” my voice cracks in desperation, but my plea works. His tongue flicks at my clit lightly before his lips close over it and suck.

“Fuck,” I moan, “I think I like you eating me out more than I like eating your cooking.”

He pulls back to briefly land a light swat on my pussy and I choke on air as painful pleasure shoots through me. “Take that back,” he growls, “My cooking is second only to my handsome face.”

“God, I fucking hate you,” I drawl. The emphasis in my words portrays the exact opposite.

Seokjin sends me a shit-eating grin before his tongue returns to lick at my swollen clit, up and down, and then in a slow circle. His fingers brush open my folds just enough for him to sink his tongue into me. “O-oh,” I throw my head back, one hand moving up to pinch one of my nipples while the other latches back into Seokjin’s hair.

“I’m s-so close, baby,” my words slur as I shamelessly beg, “Don’t stop.”

He immediately pulls away.

“Oh, fuck you,” I seethe. I yank his head back by his hair until his neck is stretched in a long line. His hair is a mess, and I’ve never seen anything hotter.

“I just want to feel you come when I’m inside you, baby,” he smiles, my wetness glistening on his lips.

“Fine,” I shimmy off of the counter onto shaky legs, “Two can play at that game.”

“What?” Seokjin’s brows furrow in confusion.

It’s my turn to drop to my knees. “Oh, shit,” he curses as I tug his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. It’s silky and gorgeous, and I can’t stop staring at it. Seokjin, of course, notices. “You like my cock, babygirl? Take it. It’s yours.”

It already was, I think, as my gaze darts up to meet his.

Without breaking eye contact, I lick his reddened tip, almost moaning at his taste. “Fuck, babygirl,” Seokjin throws his head back. I smile wickedly. I could definitely get addicted to ruining this beautiful boy. “Look at me,” I command, feeling so powerful when he immediately listens.

Slowly, I suck down on his length, hollowing out my cheeks. My eyes stay on his as he groans, and I can tell he’s straining to keep from thrusting into my mouth.

“Please, baby, fuck—!” He moans as I swallow around him and then release him from my mouth with a pop. My hand darts up to grip him tightly, pumping him. Moving slowly, I suck one of his balls into my mouth, rolling my tongue around it gently. Seokjin chokes, “Fuck me.”

“We’ll get there, baby,” I tug my mouth away and grin up at him.

I suck him as far down as I can. His control snaps and he begins to thrust wildly into my mouth, panting.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” his eyes scrunch up as he chants, “I’m gonna come.”

I release him ruthlessly.

“Goddamnit,” he cries, “I knew that was coming, but it still hurts.”

“Well,” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, “If only you had a pretty little pussy ready for you to fuck… Oh, wait.”

Seokjin chuckles, “I see I wasn’t able to fuck some of the sass out of that mouth. We might have to try that again later.”

“Gladly,” I grin back at him, “You have a condom?”

Seokjin picks up his discarded jeans from the floor and digs around in the back pockets. “Aha!” He yells, hoisting up the glimmering gold foil in triumph.

I roll my eyes before snatching the condom from the idiot. Tearing the foil packaging open with my teeth, I grab Seokjin’s length and pump him a few times in preparation.

“Stop being a tease,” he mumbles, thrusting shallowly into my hand.

“Stop being so hot,” I challenge, leaning down to lick his pre-cum dripping from the reddened tip of his cock.

“Impossible,” Seokjin smirks before tugging me back up to face him.

He drops his lips to mine and sucks on my bottom lip. Pulling away slightly, he tugs at it in a stinging bite. Withdrawing his mouth from mine, he spins me around and bends me over the counter.

I feel the head of his cock running teasingly over the folds of my pussy and I gasp, “Please, baby, I need you inside me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He thrusts into me in one sharp movement. We both gasp as he fills me, gliding in and out.

“Harder,” I moan.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I’m trying to last over here.”

“Why? We have all night,” I pout before an idea pops into my head, and I taunt, “Wait, are you telling me you’re a one and done type of old man?”

“Oh, you’re going to regret that,” Seokjin mutters darkly.

His hard cock fills and stretches me, pleasure emanating within me from every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Your pussy is mine,” he growls, “I’ll fuck you from against the wall after this. I’ll fuck you until you can’t sass me anymore. And I’ll fuck you all night, baby, and every night after that.”

I clench around him as his dirty words wash over me. “Those are all great ideas in theory,” I gasp out, “But I really want to ride you first.”

“Oh, babygirl wants to fuck herself on my cock?” Seokjin slaps my ass before pulling out, “Well, come on.”

I stand upright and turn to see him walking towards the large island in the middle of the room. He hops onto it and lays down, placing one arm behind his head, and the other one slowly strokes his cock.

“You better get that hand off your cock before I decide to never let you into my pussy again,” I say darkly as I move towards him.

His hand flies off his dick at the speed of light, his eyes wide as they focus on me.

When I get close enough, I climb up onto the island and kneel with one leg on each side of his tapered waist. I slowly sink down so that just his tip is inside me and squeeze.

A garbled moan escapes Seokjin, his hands shooting out to grab my waist in an attempt to push me down further.

“Someone’s eager,” I whisper, bending down to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’ve been fucking eager since you were hired.” He smacks my ass and then groans as I reflexively sink down another inch.

“Yeah?” I question, sinking down another inch as his eyes squeeze shut, “You should have said something sooner, baby. I could have been riding you hard for months.”

Seokjin pouts, “Well, there’s no time like the present?”

“God, you’re such a dweeb,” I grin before taking him to the hilt. We both let out strangled breaths as I shift slightly, before placing a hand on his neck.

Keeping my hand there, I lift up and begin riding him hard. My body slides up and down onto his cock at a fast pace. Sweat drips down my back. Seokjin grabs my ass, his fingers gripping my skin, and pounds up into my pussy with brutal and possessive force.

“O-oh, fuck.” There’s something about riding Seokjin that just feels so good. My hips swivel and roll against his. The pleasure steadily builds, and I try to distract myself by biting down on Seokjin’s neck.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, “Are you close?”

I pull away from his neck and sit up, arching my back to give him a deeper angle. He thrusts up into my g-spot and I gasp, “Shit, yes, I’m close. Come with me, baby.”

I clench my walls around him. Seokjin’s eyes are scrunched shut as he continues to pound into me with harsh strokes.

He shifts one hand from my ass to gently circle my aching clit, and I light up. My walls clench and pulse, locking down on Seokjin so tight that he comes, his hot seed filling the condom as he shudders.

I collapse against him and shove my face into his sweaty neck.

I can feel his laugh bubbling up from his chest before I hear it. “What’s so funny?” I ask, lips brushing his skin.

“Namjoon’s going to kill us for the number of health code violations we just committed,” his laughter causes his cock to shift within me, and I bite back a moan.

“Well,” I lift my face up from his neck to look at him, “We have nothing to lose at this point then, huh?”

I slowly lick my lips, and his eyes drop to them. The only noise left in the restaurant is our heavy breathing. “Round two in Namjoon’s office?” he suggests.

“Bet.”

a/n: this was so fun to write :) hope you all enjoyed it! happy valentine’s day!

#fwlproject #luvlibrary #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #ksj #ksj x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts #bts smut

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter Eight: Be Still

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Story Summary: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Summary: Raina and Chris are having trouble dealing with their time apart. Long-distance relationships suck.

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,258

Author’s Note: I was having trouble with this chapter. I had to end up rewriting it because I was not feeling the first draft.

Italics represent flashback conversations.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.

Tag List: @patzammit

Three months. That is how long Raina and Chris had been apart. She continued to star in the Broadway version of Moulin Rouge as Satine. Shows were constantly selling out. Reviews were acclaimed. Unfortunately, Raina was feeling bored. The same routine was beginning to annoy her. She didn't like that there was no room to change things up. Being in a Broadway show was vastly different from her concerts. Raina knew it would be.

Jerry had warned Raina that Broadway was a whole different ballgame than what she was used to or experienced. "You won't be able to change or add things from show to show. It is more rigorous than what you are used to, kid," Raina remembered Jerry telling her one day before she accepted the role.

Raina wanted a challenge. She wanted to do something different. There were times where Raina felt stagnant in her career. Plus, Raina was now considered an aging pop star, so she had to begin the process of branching out into different fields of entertainment.

"You should do the voice," Jerry would always suggest, which Raina repetitively turned down. It wasn't that Raina looked down on voice competition shows. She didn't want to open that door to be on television every week for months on end. She was a performer, not a judge.

Again, three months. Three months since Raina had physically seen her boyfriend. They talked on the phone and skyped regularly, but it was not the same as being in the same room. She missed Chris terribly. And he missed her.

Chris had been pretty busy himself, first having to take Dodger back to Boston before getting ready to go to Toronto. With Raina's busy schedule, she would not have been able to take care of the canine. For a week and a half, Chris would attend the Toronto Film Festival to promote the movie Knives Out. Raina wished she could have gone with him. Chris wished she could have gone with him.

After the film festival, Chris didn't have much downtime. He rushed into working on A Starting Point with Mark to outline the website and coordinate interviews with politicians.

Raina made it a point to steer clear of conversations about ASP. Truthfully, she didn't find the idea appealing or exciting. Yes, Americans needed to be informed about certain aspects of politics and important issues. But many outlets already offered what Chris and Mark were trying to do. She asked Chris one time what made ASP different from the others. She was surprised that he wasn't quite able to come up with a sufficient answer. Raina knew Chris meant well.

"Chris," she spoke up one day before he left the City, "You know I will never bullshit you, and I won't ever blow smoke up your ass. That has never been the kind of friendship we had. Nor is it how we want our intimate relationship to go."

He looked at Raina and told her to go on. "Sometimes, I have noticed, is that you tend not to be able to look outside of your privilege, Chris. You know what I am saying?"

Chris turned to his girlfriend. He was confused about where she was getting at. "No. What are you saying?"

Raina sighed. She could tell Chris was on the verge of getting defensive. "Nothing," she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Look, let's no…argue about…stupid stuff, okay." Raina pleaded and walked up to Chris to put her arms around him.

He reciprocated by doing the same. Leaning in, Chris captured Raina's lips. "I don't want to argue either. Especially not before I have to leave," he whispered in her ear.

There would times when Raina would look back on that exchange between her and Chris. She felt weird about how Chris became so defensive. Yeah, she could have worded things better; however, why should she?

Truthfully, Chris was a privileged white male. If he took the time to recognize his privileges, it would make him a better ally to those who represent underprivileged groups. Raina was worried about any possible backlash Chris could face with a project like AS, which was not what she wanted for him. She understood that this was a passion project for Chris and Mark as well. Raina only wanted Chris to make sure that everything was in order and that nothing would be thrown at him unexpectedly. She knew Chris wasn't able to take criticism very well, even when it was constructive, mainly when it came to projects he was enthusiastic about; she understood as she was the same way.

With their time apart, Chris had to miss her birthday, October 19. Chris made sure to send Raina an enormous flower arrangement he could find, along with an array of goodies from Dylan's Candy Bar store. Chris knew the gifts would something Raina would appreciate. However, he still felt guilty that he was not with her to celebrate her birthday in person.

"Hey, birthday girl," Chris greeted Raina through skype on the day of her birthday. He laughed when he saw that she was holding the cupcake pillow he got her.

"I love it!" she exclaimed happily. "And I love my three-tier candy cake. I can't believe you got me that," Raina pointed out as she adjusted the laptop camera to show Chris the candy cake. "I won't be able to eat all of that."

"Yeah, you will," he laughed.

"I miss you," Raina said to Chris. "I didn't think being away from you would be this hard."

Chris sighed, "I miss you, too, sweetheart. But we'll see each other for Christmas, right?"

"Yes, of course. I made sure to schedule that time off. I still plan to come up to Concord for Christmas. My dad has already made plans with Diane for not only Christmas but Thanksgiving as well. So he is taken care of," Raina revealed. "Speaking of Thanksgiving, what are you doing?"

Shifting in his seat, Chris shared that he would spend it in Concord with his family. He noticed the slight disappointment on Raina's face and shift in her demeanor. "You don't want to come here and spend the holiday with me?" she asked solemnly. She didn't want to press on the issue but wanted to hear Chris's reason.

Raina understood that Chris always liked to spend the holidays with his family, but deep down, she hoped he would change it up this year. "It's just been two and a half months since we saw each other," Raina began but stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was to make Chris feel guilty. "Do you have any time off before then?"

"Like you, I'm completely booked up until Christmas. Mark and I are still working on the website for A Starting Point for the rest of October, then when November comes around, it is all press for Knives Out and premiers. Trust me; I would rather be with you than have to do press junkets or walk red carpets," Chris acknowledged.

Raina grabbed a piece of candy from her three-tier candy cake. She just sat back in her chair, not looking at the computer screen. Raina focused on the candy. She didn't want to look at Chris because if she did, tears would begin to form. For some reason, missing Chris and wanting to be with him felt like the equivalent of homesickness. It was a feeling she had never experienced when it came to another human being. Even when she was a teenager touring across the world, she never felt homesick. Her relationship with Chris brought along a whole new set of feelings for Raina, and part of it scared her.

She suddenly asked herself, 'Am I becoming too dependent on Chris?' The last thing Raina wanted to be, was co-dependent.

Raina shook her head and sat up in her chair. She looked at Chris and smiled. "I'm sorry. I know you're busy. I don't mean to pressure you or make you feel bad."

The two continued to talk a bit longer until Chris noticed Raina yawning. "Okay, sweetheart, I will let you get to bed."

"No, I can still talk. It's early," Raina whined like a child.

"It's a quarter after eleven, and that is now your fourth yawn in the last fifteen minutes," he pointed out. "You need to get to bed."

Raina sighed, "Alright, boss. I'll get to bed. Talk to you later or when either one of us is available. Bye, honey. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

Thanksgiving rolled around faster than Chris expected. Time flies when one is busy. He continued to talk to Raina via phone or skype. However, Chris was also beginning to get frustrated at their time apart. Currently, he was home, sitting in his living room with his brother and brother-in-law, watching a football game between the Buffalo Bills and Dallas Cowboys while his mom and sisters prepared dinner. Lisa would poke her head from the kitchen, asking the boys for help from time to time. His niece and nephew were running around playing with Dodger, who appeared to love the attention.

It was almost perfect, except one person was missing. Raina. He called her earlier that day. She shared that she was celebrating Thanksgiving, Chandler Bing style, with some of the Moulin Rouge cast.

"What the Hell is Thanksgiving, Chandler Bing style?" Chris asked, confused.

"Damnit, watch friends, Christopher," Raina scolded teasingly. "Chandler Bing doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. Because that was the day his parents told him that they were getting divorced. So, instead of all the turkey fixings and stuffing, we have grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, and a family-size bag of Funyuns as an appetizer. We have lots of booze, so don't worry. Oh, and pumpkin cheesecake. Good times, right."

Chris only laughed. "You're living the dream. I don't think what Ma is making could compare."

"Just be sure to tell her to make her spaghetti for Christmas dinner. Or at least make a small pot of it just for me, okay."

"She's planning to, so don't worry. What are you watching? I hear gunfire," Chris enquired.

"I'm watching my husband, Tommy Shelby, shoot at the Italians," Raina informed as she watched Peaky Blinders. "I love Tommy Shelby. I tell you, Chris, if Tommy Shelby showed up at my door asking me to marry him, I would most likely say yes."

"Is that so."

"In a heartbeat. Sorry, hon, but Tommy Shelby, the things I would let him do to..."

"Thank God he is a fictional character," Chris interrupted.

"Not in my dreams he isn't," Raina taunted.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now."

"Alright, I'll stop lusting after my fictional husband while I'm on the phone with you," said Raina and switched topics.

The two continued to talk until Chris was ordered into the kitchen by his mother. It was his turn to help.

Chris was chopping carrots and celery when his mother asked how Raina was doing.

"She is doing fine. Raina wishes she could be here."

However, Lisa could tell something was bothering Chris. He could never hide his emotions from her. "What's the matter, Christopher?"

Chris continued to chop the vegetables until he stopped to look at his mother. "I didn't expect being away from Raina would be this hard, Ma."

"Of course it is. You love Raina," Lisa stated as she continued cooking.

"I do. But in the past, I had girlfriends who I loved and had to do long-distance," Chris explained. "None of those worked out."

"Because you weren't truly in love with them," Lisa pointed out. "Don't compare what you have with Rain to your past relationships. Every relationship is different. What you and Raina have now is not something you have experienced before, which is real love. True love. Everyone always knew that you two would end up together, except you and Raina. You both are so cute but also clueless at times. You both will get through this. The work commitments will die down. You both will be reunited. Everything will be fine."

Chris took in what his mother was saying. He knew she was right. He had things to look forward to beginning the start of the new year.

"Raina is the first person I dated, well since Jessica at least, that I have really begun to think about marriage and kids. Part of me is scared because it's all so fast. We have only started dating back in mid-July. I don't want to rush anything. I don't want to scare her off. I don't want her to get bored of me," Chris confessed honestly.

It was heartbreaking for Lisa to hear. She gestured for Chris to sit down at the kitchen table. "You need to stop, Chris. You are allowing your anxiety to get the best of you. Just take a deep breath, okay," she instructed her oldest son. "Raina will never get bored of you. She loves you very much. Don't think about the past; only focus on the future. You and Raina will be fine. More than fine. Yes, there will be hard times, along with good times. It is normal for every functional relationship. You can't have the good without the bad, the sad without the happy, the ups and the downs. The universe needs balance."

"Okay, Oprah," Chris joked. "I get what you're saying."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do, Ma."

"Good. Now get back to chopping," Lisa ordered, and Chris went back to cutting vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner.

#chris evans #chris evans x oc #chris evans x ofc

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ladytemeraire · 4 years

Note

"(also: SUPER INTRIGUED by your 'Edward haunts Ratonhnhaké:ton' fic premise)there's like a million little details I want to squeal over but I'm trying not to make my own commentary longer than the fic" - PLEASE SQUEAL OVER ALL THE LITTLE DETAILS IT NOURISHES ME AND I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY FICS (the ghost!Edward fic is a lot of father-son Conversations and ends with bonus Elijah and ghost!Desmond at the end :3)

WELL IF YOU INSIST =D I really should know better than to second-guess if an author wants squeeing over their work, honestly Tems

A (probably not exhaustive) list of details I loved:

The fact that Desmond had that conscious thought, however brief, of “oh. she lied about it not hurting”, because that bitch Juno lied, it wasn’t painless and over in an instant and he felt it the entire time, AUGH MY HEART.

I know I already squealed about it in my reblog but the hands over his own. I just. I have the strongest mental image of that moment and it gives me chills in the best way. (This might be a weird comparison, but: You know the Sailor Moon season one finale, during the final battle at D-Point, where Sailor Moon stands alone and then one by one those ghostly hands appear to support her own as the spirits of her friends join her? LIKE THAT, but Assassins, their spirits made of golden light.)

Altaïr’s eyes being gold. Yes. Yes good.

Desmond still feeling like he failed even though he saved humanity, sweetheart no.

Ezio being the one to tell him “it’s time to move on”, because Ezio was able to draw that line himself, he was the one who said “enough” and laid his burdens down and was able to move on in his own lifetime.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s eternal unflinching faith in humanity and hope for the future despite everything he and his people endured, I love him so so so much.

Love the back-and-forth between Desmond and Ezio, with Desmond’s guilt over everything his ancestors went through and Ezio rightfully pointing out that Desmond went through the same and more.

All the hugs for Desmond. Aaaallllll the hugs. (And of course it’s Ezio that pulls him in, because he’s the most tactile and openly physically affectionate of all of them, but honestly I also personally believe he gives fantastic hugs.)

And Desmond still feels like it’s not enough, that he’s not enough and he can’t just stop, that he needs to do more because he didn’t fix it all in one go. He is very much Altaïr’s heir in this regard, albeit driven by duty and guilt rather than by arrogance, and for that reason in particular I love that it’s Altaïr’s words of pride and honor that finally get through to him and convince him he did well.

EDWARD BEING THE ONE TO TELL DESMOND HE’S EARNED HIS REST. Because Edward, too, knows the danger of blindly pursuing a goal to the exclusion of all else, knows the importance of being able to know when to stop.

In conclusion, this was lovely and I love the way you write these characters and I need to go re-read it for the fifteenth time.

And OH HELLO THERE I just found this on AO3, brb gonna go yell my love in the comments there too.

#queen of carven stone #LadyTem's ask box #ladytemeraire talks about fictional characters #Assassin's Creed #Desmond Miles #Ezio Auditore #Altaïr ibn la'Ahad #Ratonhnhaké:ton #Edward Kenway #(note to self: go back and fix the spelling of Altaïr's tag at some point)#*hits post and immediately falls into bed*

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sadpathologist · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2, I guess?

Part one, also it`s on AO3.

So, he`s falling, cold mountain wind punching him in the face, irritating his eyes and making them water, goosebumps raising all over his torso for the apparent lack of clothing on his upper body. For humans, jumping off the cliff is a ticket straight to the end of the journey that is their life.

He was not a human, thankfully.

Jaskier`s not afraid of squashing his face into a bloody mess on the next best rock his head can find, because he knows that just can`t happen. The reason why he was so sure begun to reveal itself, and he moaned and bit his lower lip as the sensation similar to pain starts gnawing at his skin in the area of his shoulder blades.

Magic purrs to him again, and in that instant moment, two massive wings brake out from his spine in a fast, almost painless spurt. They make a few firm flaps, and Jaskier is soaring.

He didn`t fly for so long; he almost forgot the sheer joy of it. Jaskier`s crying from experiencing all those old-new feelings all over again, and there are too many different emotions burling inside him that he can`t quite put his finger on any of them.

Then, he hears magic`s soft call once more, the same sensation prickles at his whole face, and two long horns emerge from the edge of his hairline, repeating their elegant spiral in their way up, his cheekbones become a lot more prominent, his ears pointier, more rhomb-like. Now there are two pairs of canines in his upper row of teeth, and they are a lot more sharper, too. For the last of his inhuman features, a thick flexible scaly tail appears in his right leg pant, and it`s much longer than his legs, so the new anatomy part just hangs from it awkwardly and slightly unnerves him.

It feels like hours passed since the jump, but in reality, he knows it was mere seconds.

The bard looks at the mesmerizing view of Dragon Mountains, and he would`ve enjoyed it if it weren`t the same view he was looking at while being a target of witcher`s misplaced fury. They seem to him downright nauseating, for now, at least.

Not expecting any new bodyparts, Jaskier flaps his wings and sets in the direction of the mountain`s foot, where Roach was left, to retrieve the other bag with his belongings. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for not forgetting about it and clears all the thoughts from his head.

----

By the time Jaskier nears the clearing where everyone left their horses, it is late evening, and cicadas have already begun their twilight's song, accompanying fireflies' sparkling light show. He decides to land not very far from the edge of the meadow as a precaution in case someone might see him. Well, not just him, but his true form. ‘Can`t have anyone know I`m a fae, right?’

After waiting for a couple of minutes, the bard finally emerges from behind the trees and strolls to the chestnut mare. He almost steps on his tail, not used to it for twenty years of its absence, and curses then moves it up the leg pant and circles around his waist a couple of times so that it won`t get in the way.

"Hello, sweetheart," he greets his dear companion, " I came to say goodbye."

He pats her white striped muzzle, and she headbutts him affectionately. It seems Roach is not repelled by his unusual for her appearance, and Jaskier is not surprised, to be honest. Animals always loved his kind a lot more than humans.

"It's time for us to part ways again," his hand reached to the horse's mane and started to comb it with his fingers," for the last time, it seems."

She neighs quietly and nuzzles at his neck as if to say she'll miss him. "I'll miss you too, my dear heart." The bard wraps his arm around mare`s neck and hugs her closer, feeling his tears start to fall on her mane. And Roach, the amazing lady that she is, rubs her head against his and his heart breaks that he has to take himself off her master`s hands.

Jaskier pats her once more and begins to untether the bag with his clothes from the saddle. Then, he decides it would be a lot more convenient just to put his smaller bag that he took for the track up the mountain into the second, bigger one.

“You`re a fae.” A sudden comment startles him as he didn`t hear anyone approaching. He looks up and meets the gaze of an older man. ‘Shit, that`s just brilliant.’ Jaskier thought.

“ And you`re a dragon. Are we going to point out some more obvious facts?” he bites back, his eyebrows meeting in a frown. ‘So much for not letting anyone know.’

Borch seems absolutely unfazed by his comment and stares at the bard as if he were a particularly amusing child. “ I didn`t feel any residual magic on you. How did you manage to hide it so well? The witcher doesn`t know, I assume.”

The fae scowls at him some more and breaks the silence, “ I have my secrets. I also much preferred this,” he gestures to himself,” to be a secret. So yes, the witcher doesn`t know.” Jaskier folds his arms on his chest then,” You`re a dragon, as we so helpfully established a few moments ago, the rarest dragon. So unique that the White Wolf himself thought you were a myth. Surely,” he huffs,” you must know fuck-all to figure out how I hid it so well.”

“Contrary to popular beliefs,” Villentretenmerth smiles at him,” the fact that I am an ancient being does not mean I know, as you said, fuck-all.” The dragon keeps his facial expressions quite pleasant to show the other man that he is not a threat and that he has the purest of intentions, but this annoys him a big deal for obvious reasons. The bard sighs.

“What`s the point of this conversation? What do you want from me? I`m in a hurry here,” Jaskier questions and pointedly puts his lute on the right shoulder and the bag on his left.

“All I want to do,” the older man sighs too,” is to give you an advice-

“No,” the fae doesn`t let him finish his thoughts, feeling outraged once more at the dragon`s blatant audacity,” no! I have had enough of your advices!” Jaskier points his finger at the creature before him,” What good did your advices do for Geralt? For Yennefer? For me? Hm?” He gestures openly, his fingers pointing somewhere at the sky.

“ Nothing good, as you can see!” He almost screams, electric blue eyes stare stubbornly at Borch`s brown. Then, the musician takes a deep breath and adds quietly,” I`m done here. Farewell.”

And before Borch can say something else, Jaskier spreads his massive wings and flies up in a quick spurt, shocking even the dragon with his speed.

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt/jaskier #dandelion/geralt #geraskier #angst #fae jaskier #creature jaskier #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia

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braindeadskeletons · 4 years

Note

Hello!! Can I have a matchup please?? It seems like every time I ask someone for one, something happens in which they can't 😂😂 but that's fine lol,, I'm a cisgender bicurious female of which the curious part is aimed towards males! The only men I've ever liked are fictional smh,, my friends tend to think I'm bubbly and very open, and they relate me to the colours orange or yellow! I'm also British and I have a love for horror movies and psychology. I would go on but,, happy writing!! Love ya

I'm a very naturally femine person in appearance. My room is full of pastel colours, mainly pinks and purples, alongside plushies and lots of duck ornaments! Since my favourite animal is a duck (fuck geese they scare the shit out of me). Despite this, a lot of people don't expect this? Apparently I seem like the kind of person to have a much simpler or perhaps darker room. So I usually tend to shock people when they see what my room looks like lol. I love unique fashion! Stuff you see on cat walks - christmas themed dress, teacup shaped t-shirt, whatever! You name it, I've probably seen something like it! Because of this, I also have a love for weird decorations. My kitchen is flamingo themed, my bathroom is winter themed (yes, I have a santa clause toilet), and my office is fulled to the brim with 90s and 80s memorabilia. Stuff you wouldn't find nowadays without some digging!! I'm currently in college taking an accounting degree, also alongside business. After that, I also wish to take a literature course to help with my fanfiction writing (perhaps I could eventually write a novel? I don't know haha) Crude humour is the key for me to be happy. As much as silly humour and stuff is great, say something vaguely offensive and I'll crack up! As long as it's not meant to be taken genuinely, then I'll find it funny. Although I have to be close to the person for me to actually start laughing at stuff like that

Hey there! I'm so sorry this was a wait! I basically had some stuff come up and it delayed my work a lot. Plus the added time from the added information you gave me, which I thank you for by the way <3 I had a lot of fun writing this! I hope it doesn’t disappoint lol. Instead of delaying this further let's just get right into the matchup, shall we?

I match you with Undertale Papyrus!

This might've been a little too obvious huh? I just couldn't help it, you two seemed like such a natural pair! I try not to go with matches that are too obvious but sometimes you just have to go with it.

The first thing that naturally attracted Papyrus to you was how open and bubbly you are! He can relate a lot to that himself and seeing how much of a natural you are while interacting with others just convinced him further that he just had to talk to the pretty lady! Of course, the moment you two start talking you both hit it off. It’s kind of physically impossible for anybody to hate Papyrus or for Papyrus to hate anybody. You know those fanfics on AO3 that are slow burn, friends to lovers, 140+ chapters? That’s what this is. There is no better way to put your relationship before you both are dating. Papyrus means well, and by god is he a good person, but he’s a bit of an airhead when it comes to romantic attraction. You could literally tell him that you want to marry him and have ten monster/human hybrid children and he’d still be like ‘BUT,,,AS FRIENDS,,,?’ You’ll need to wait for him to understand his feelings himself. It’ll hit him at one of the dumbest times possible. For example:

----------

You: geese are just,,,,kinda,,,,horrible

Papyrus:

You: fuck geese

Papyrus:

You:

You: Papyrus are y-

Papyrus: I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU???

----------

Yup. Just like that. No warning, no proper build-up, nothing could have predicted this. It’s just silly moments between the two of you that make him so smitten. Like you’re such??? A dork??? How could he not fall in love with you?? It’ll be a huge smack in the face for him that he’s fallen in love with you. Probably it’ll be the same for you if you’re the type of person who is oblivious with love. If not, then it was horribly obvious he likes you and you were simply waiting for him to say something first. The blushing, constantly trying to impress you, his lovestruck gazes at you when you laugh at his antics, etc. The signs were all here if you’re able to spot them. Now that Papyrus is aware of the fact that he likes you he isn’t going to let this opportunity pass by. Time for the dating manual!

This part is actually going to be the worst. Yes, the hard work and effort are absolutely precious and you’re very flattered he’s trying to “court” you as he puts it but it’s going to be overwhelming. Unless you’re fully on board with flowers being left at your door, love letters, great “acts of love”, serenading you with a not so great voice, randomly inviting you out to “friend dates” that are actually regular dates in disguise, complimenting you every waking moment, and more you might want to stop him and just tell him you like him too. Once you tell him you feel the same way, prepare for the most wholesome hugs and kisses from the big goober. Fully expect to wake up the next day and everybody already knows you’re his date-mate. Papyrus is going to tell everybody and their great grandmas that he landed himself with the greatest human ever.

So you mentioned that your kitchen is flamingo themed? Uh,,,don’t get used to it. Not that Papyrus would ever openly try and change your home, he loves your decorating! He doesn’t really understand how people wouldn’t expect you to have such an adorable home! He has named all the duck ornaments, become well acquainted with your stuffed animals and the real animals, is slightly afraid of the Santa Claus toilet because Santa is the evil man sans told him about, etc, etc. But we all know how he gets in the kitchen. If you care about the wellbeing of your flamingo decorations maybe move them somewhere else? Papyrus swears that he won’t set fire to your home but we both know how that goes for everybody involved.

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Papyrus: HUMAN

You: Yeah?

Papyrus: HOW ATTACHED WERE YOU TO THE FLAMINGO DECOR

You:

Papyrus:

You:

Papyrus:

You: Hun, I love you

You: but if you fucked up the flamingo decorations I swear to god-

----------

This is a regular conversation you two need to have. Somebody, please stop him.

He really really loves your sense of fashion! Since the two of you have been dating, he’s actually gotten into it a bit himself. Papyrus tries not to invade your privacy but one time he stumbled into your office and saw all of your memorabilia dedicated to the 90s and 80s and immediately fell in love with the aesthetic. It’s all he could talk about for weeks and god knows he isn’t stopping anytime soon. Try introducing him to some more fashion! Papyrus probably won’t get enough of all of it. Watch him show up to your home dressed like the whole circus.

When Papyrus hears of how you’re studying right now, he’s going to go on a little bit of a rant about how he knows plenty of stuff about school! Not really. He just thinks he does because he has his face in a shrub at Toriel’s school. This isn’t to downplay his intelligence of course but monster education and human education have a lot of differences. When it comes to accounting Papyrus isn’t exactly going to understand anything, but he will be very supportive! He may not understand much about accounting but he surprisingly knows a lot about business?? Yeah, it’s a little strange but I guess you shouldn’t be that shocked. Papyrus is supposedly the ‘mascot of monsters’ and he’s also friends with the monster ambassador. To say the least, he’s surrounded by a lot of really important people. If you’d like, he’ll even take you to meet a couple higher-ups! Whatever he can do to support you he will.

As for your love for writing, Papyrus would probably have to redirect you to Alphys. Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just that the humans on the surface have been a little…intense...for Papyrus and Sans. He’d like to take a break from any sort of writing for a long long time.

Onto the final section! Date nights! Which for Papyrus might as well be every night. His idea of an ideal date would probably be something extremely outlandish, but he knows humans can’t handle a lot of the stuff he can so he tones it down. Making dinner and watching a movie is good enough, right? Papyrus knows you love horror movies in particular. This poor guy is trying his very best. Please be patient with him. He wants to prove that he can protect you and be the bigger monster but he’ll end up clinging to you the whole time and maybe even crying?? Just a little. As a treat.

Yeah, so go gentle on the horror movies. Poor guy is gonna pass out.

His main goal during the date will be to make you smile at every possible turn. You’re in luck with the crude humor! Now you may be thinking ‘but Papyrus isn’t crude, he’s such a sweetheart!’ and you’re not wrong really. Most of the stuff he says is entirely on accident or he’s just genuinely oblivious to the implications of what he just said. If anything that only makes it all the more hilarious to witness. If Papyrus catches himself with what he said he’ll try apologizing profusely only to be met with your adorable smiling face. He may not get what’s so funny but seeing how your smile reaches your eyes makes whatever he just said worth it.

#AAAA IT IS D O N E #It was so fun writing this lol it just took me so long again I'm very sorry about that!#thank you for being patient <3 #thank you for sending this in!#Undertale #Undertale matchup #Undertale Papyrus #Undertale Papyrus x reader #matchup

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zekejeagrs · 4 years

Note

Hi friend! This is mha-adore; I'm on my main blog because my mha blog is a side blog and I can't send a question from that blog. Just to prove it's me - you came to me asking about a matchup exchange and I asked you to explain what it is and I agreed, and the day after I wrote my side matching you with Shoto, and in our personal messages your recent message is, "I'm so excited to do your matchup!" something to that idea. I hope that's enough to prove it's me.

I'm asking for a matchup with mha please.

I'm a quiet and well mannered person who strives to appeal to everyone I meet. I happen to have a personality disorder and as such, some people get a different idea of who I am. I consider myself friendly but emotionally distant, a friend of mine has accused me of not caring at all because I'm naturally a distant person. I'm mostly very respectful and try to avoid any conflict or fights, but the moment someone insults or fights a friend of mine or my partner I drop my friendly exterior and hone in on the person, insulting them, spilling any tea I know about them, I say whatever comes to mind that I know will make them feel terrible, and I end it by stomping on their foot. With close friends or my partner I'm more talkative - not loud or boisterous, just more talkative. I insert my opinions more, I hold a conversation and I openly give my thoughts about different topics without worrying that I'll upset them.

I'm a trans male who uses he/him and they/them pronouns; I'm pansexual. I'm 19 and a Leo sun, Aquarius moon, Virgo rising. The only characters I don't feel comfortable being matched with are Endeavor, Dabi and All Might.

My hobbies involve drawing (I'm working on a comic), I love to play both Pokemon and Animal Crossing, I enjoy writing fan fiction, studying and playing card games. (Like Old Maid, Go Fish, Crazy 8s, Blackjack, Solitaire, you get the idea.)

My love language is to show my love in subtle ways. Cooking someone a meal they love without being asked to, spending time with them doing whatever they want, giving them hand made gifts and giving them cute pet names like love bug, sweetheart, sweet tea (a different way of saying sweetie). I offer genuine advice to them, even if I know it'll hurt or upset them. I want the best for my partner, even if it means taking the path of most resistance. I want someone who can aim an arrow into my heart. I look for someone who shares my taste in music and who will listen to music we both enjoy together. I like the area of Melanie Martinez, Billie Eilish, Ricky Montgomery, lofi beats and some of the older country music, like from the 80s and 90s. Generic, I know.

As for anything specific, perhaps my matchup's opinion on having children? I'd really like to have a child someday.

Thank you again so much for the matchup exchange offer, it's very kind of you 💗

— matchup exchange

ty sm again for doing this exchange with me! you seem so nice i’m v down to be mutuals/friends with you (only if you want ofc)! also, what would your quirk be? i’m v interested in what it would be since i mentioned what mine would be on my submission to you. i hope you enjoy your match!

i match you with...

fatgum

| hi yes i matched you with a human marshmallow. one of the reasons why i matched you with taishiro is because of the difference in your personalities and the way he would work well with your personality because of how much he cares. the way you’d meet him would probably be by working at his office. he’d find you to be so sweet that he wants to get to know you better. he actually doesn’t mind how proper and emotionally distant you are because he understands that everyone is different and present themselves differently.

| you’d take some time to open up to him and become friends but he’s completely fine with that! he understands reserved people because of tamaki & only wants you to feel comfortable around him. because of that,,, taishiro definitely always starts the conversations. “how’s your day?” “what did you do over the weekend?” “what did you think of that movie?” once you become more talkative with him and have your conversations, he’d be so happy because he sees it as a new level of friendship.

| that’s when he starts realizing he actually has a crush on you. he’d confess at the end of a long work day and explain that he’d like to be your partner,, “i really enjoy your company and i want to be your partner for a long time- oh i just realized what i said, only if you also want to be my partner- or i mean would like to give me a chance to prove myself-“ idk how he managed to get himself out of that one but it would end with you accepting to have dinner at his house.

| like i’ve said before, taishiro doesn’t mind that you’re emotionally distant. he knows you care and just show it differently than others. the first time he saw you angry at someone he was very scared & shocked because he’s never seen you that way before. he just stood behind you as you absolutely slaughtered the person you were angry at and watched with wide eyes before trying to diffuse the situation. he asked if you were okay and that it wasn’t a big deal that that person was insulting him but he expressed how grateful he was for you standing up for him. he never wants to see you like that again but he’s glad he got to see every part you.

| HE IS VERY RESPECTFUL ABOUT PRONOUNS!! that was probably the first thing he asked you! “oh! he/him and they/them? i go by he/him too!” he’d even write it down to remember because he doesn’t want to make any mistakes or offend anyone.

| taishiro would be so supportive of your comic! he’d check up on you when you’re working on it and bring you cut fruit and water. he’d genuinely be so interested in your drawings and writings— he’s not artistic so seeing it come so easily to someone would be so cool to him. he’d only read and look at what you’re comfortable with sharing though! if you ever ask for any creative help, he’d be 100% down to help you. he comes up with the coolest ideas too and you wonder why he says he’s not artistic.

| on his days off you guys either stay indoors and play animal crossing or walk around and collect pokémon. his island would be so messy so he’d always try to copy your island. island visits & he always leave you gifts. he’d have so many pokémon because he plays when he’s on parole (oops!). he’d jokingly brag about it to you and would offer to take you with him next time but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. he seems like the type to be secretly very good at card games?? he’d just surprise you with how good and competitive he is when you play together and with other people.

| taishiro listens to old country music. he knows every lyric to every dolly parton song and sings when he thinks he’s alone. you’d have to introduce him to your other favorite artists & he’d absolutely love their songs! ricky montgomery makes him cry a little but he’s fine! he swears! even though there’s tears rolling down face!

| PLEASE COOK HIM FOOD! the first time you cook him food to show your love he just blushes and smiles the whole time. he can’t. HE CAN’T! HE JUST LOVES YOU SO MUCH ALREADY HOW IS IT POSSIBLE FOR HIM TO LOVE YOU EVEN MORE??? every other food is ruined for him after you cook for him because your cooking is the absolute best to him.

| he’d love the small gifts you give him, he’d treasure every single one of them and display them around the house. sweet tea would be a perfect pet name for him- he loves it so much. he’d call you love bug in return and cook you dinner and give you small gifts. he’s definitely an acts of service and quality time guy. just being in the same room as you doing separate work is good enough for him. your presence just soothes him and he has a blast!

| taishiro values your opinions very much. he always tries to be the best partner for you and listen to you because you have so much insight. he also trusts you so much and knows you mean well when giving him advice. he just loves you so much, he doesn’t want to disappoint!

his opinion on having children

| he basically already adopted tamaki & kirishima, of course he wants kids!

| you’d have to be the one to bring it up because he doesn’t want to seem like he’s forcing you into anything.

| he’s so relieved once you do bring it up though! “yes! i want to have a family with you!”

| it doesn’t matter if you have them biologically, adopt, or have a surrogate— he loves his child so much and cried because he was so overwhelmed with love and finally being a dad.

| he’d be the best dad! (although a bit clueless) he wouldn’t imagine having a family with anyone other than you. you’re just perfect for him.

| he’d also ask if you could adopt a dog

| he is so protective over his family too. if anything were to happen to either of you, he would be so upset because you’re his life.

| overall, taishiro would try to give you and the child the best life!

i hope you enjoyed! pls lmk if anything is inaccurate or if you want me to make it longer.

@mha-adore @space-cowbop

#iidastiddiesmatchups #iidastiddieshcs #mha matchup #bnha matchup #mha #bnha #fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum headcanons #bnha taishiro

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johnny-and-dora · 5 years

Text

how sweet the taste of certainty

Finally, she doesn’t have to wonder if their love is doomed to be some quiet, fragile thing. It’s not some fickle flickering candle at all, but rather something as bright and as certain and as inevitable as the sunrise. Something beautiful and familiar that, in earnest, is only just beginning.

or, amy tells her parents the shining, golden reason why she can't marry teddy. (a missing scene of my royalty au)

read on ao3 / read the original -

The morning after she asks Jake to marry her, Amy stops a couple steps short of the heavy dining room doors, heart in her mouth, feet suddenly and brutally rooted to the ground. The eloquent and respectful speech she spent all night planning has seemingly evaporated, leaving her less of a person and more a pile of nervous mush.

“Are you ready?” Rosa meets her gaze, her armour glinting in the summer morning sunshine.

“No.” Amy admits, smiling nervously, calculating the nearest escape route and how long she could survive in the forest based on her existing hunting and foraging skills. “Do you think this is a bad idea?”

Rosa considers it for a beat. “No. I think it’s crazy, and it might blow up in your face, but I think it’s a good thing. For everyone.”

She can’t help but feel reassured by her best friend’s trademark bluntness, smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair again almost compulsively. It’s just breakfast. A breakfast that may as well be taking place in the middle of a minefield, but still just breakfast. She can handle breakfast.

Amy takes a deep breath, nods at Rosa, and pushes the doors open.

She’s greeted by the tail-end of an idyllic Santiago family meal; her parents sit at the head of the table, looking stoic and serious as usual. Three of her brothers are also dotted around, Julian in the middle of shoving an entire croissant in his mouth as he waves at her. David is mercifully absent. Silver linings. She definitely doesn’t need the golden child around today.

“Amelia – good, we were starting to worry…” Her mom trails off, a weight behind her words that instantly sends an unpleasant lick of irritation down her spine. She clenches her fists, resisting the urge to tell her just how much she really needs to be worried about. Just how close she was to smuggling herself and Jake over the border last night and never looking back.

Amy knows this won’t work unless she’s calm, firm and collected – she needs this to go perfectly, the stakes for this particular conversation so far past the roof they’re practically up in the stratosphere (Jake’s words, not hers). So, instead of letting out all the latent anger kicking around in her chest, she takes a deep breath and smiles politely, the one usually reserved for dukes that condescendingly call her “sweetheart” and then drop their jaws when she can recite state law from memory.

“You guys said you wanted to see me?”

“Prince Theodore has been asking after you. He’s waiting at the West Wing gate.”

“Good. I need to talk to him.” Amy says, forcefully enough that her mother sharply raises an eyebrow, sucking all the air out of the room in the process. “I need to talk to you, too.”

Her mom and dad share a quick, loaded glance. Everyone falls quiet, Tony and Simon no longer squabbling over who gets the last bread roll, Julian letting a blob of jam fall on his shirt without noticing. All eyes are on her as Victor gestures for her to continue – ideally, she’d do this with as little of an audience as possible, but she confesses to Jake later that she couldn’t help but revel slightly in the drama of it all.

She’s Amy Santiago – she’s fluent in five languages, director of the royal art collection, ambassador for human rights and one of the best trade negotiators in the seven kingdoms. She is capable of anything. She can do this. She’d barely last a week in the forest anyway.

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“Amelia…” Her mother sighs disapprovingly – it drills into Amy’s soul, but she stands her ground, making peace with her portrait being one step further away from the mantel. Her father eyes her warily as if he was expecting this.

“No, I know. I know you think it’s what’s best for me. I know a marriage like that worked for you two, and I know that it would benefit the kingdom and that’s great. But I can’t marry someone I don’t love, and you can’t force me to.”

“Accepting his proposal may seem like a risk, but a one worth taking.” Her father says. “He’s good for you, Amy – his reputation, his influence, it could really help you build something. You two are perfectly matched.”

Amy chews her bottom lip, a nervous tic she just can’t shake, gathering her courage. “Maybe in a different situation, Teddy and I would have worked. I see what you see in him. But it’s more than just on principle. I physically can’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

“Because - “Amy says, voice shaking a little, but eyes alight, “-I’m engaged to someone else.”

And, well, there it is. Her whole life changed by a single sentence.

It has the intended effect, increased tenfold thanks to a truly magnificent spit take from Julian as he chokes on his orange juice. Her parents stare at her in stunned disbelief – a wide-eyed Tony pats Julian on the back as his coughing dissolves into laughter. Best of all though, Amy can see Rosa smiling wide and proud in the corner of her eye, and it’s all she needs to feel newly emboldened, heart thumping in a way that makes her feel powerful instead of helpless.

“My God, Amy. I thought I had it with the whole one-night-stand with the Prince of Arabia thing, but you officially just won most dramatic family announcement. Well played.” Julian laughs, uproarious and bright. She’s glad he’s here.

“I…don’t understand. You are…already engaged?” Her mother asks weakly.

“As of last night, yes.” Amy tries to remain as neutral and matter-of-fact as possible, but she can’t help softening at the fresh memory of Jake saying yes over and over again, punctuating each affirmation with a kiss as she laughed, buoyant and alive with unadulterated joy. It’s all still very surreal, especially considering she hasn’t slept since; but if it is all a dream, it’s one she never intends to wake up from.

“I don’t see a ring,” Julian says, a bright grin plastered on his face that Amy ever so slightly mirrors, unable to completely tamp down her happiness any longer. “Isn’t there supposed to be a ring?”

“There is, but he has it. I proposed to him.”

“Oh, of course you did.” Julian shakes his head in a perfect marriage of awe and amusement.

“How…what…who…” Tony stammers – having graciously passed the point of no return, Amy decides to throw all her caution and concern to the wind and dive headfirst into the unknown.

“His name is Jake Peralta and he is the absolute love of my life. I have never been surer about anything than I am about that fact.” She consciously pours every ounce of conviction she has into her words, and it tastes like honey on her tongue, fresh air in her lungs. “He’s a baker and he helps out in the kitchen with Charles and he is the kindest, most loyal, most wonderful person I have ever met.”

There are so many ways to describe him – completely unexpected, completely full of warmth and laughter and more love than she thought any human being was capable of containing. Loving Jake is endlessly surprising, but it’s also the easiest thing she’s ever done.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d never approve of me being with someone who didn’t have ‘reputation’, but the truth is that Jake is good for me in a way that Teddy could never be. He is unconditionally supportive and thoughtful, and he sees me for me, not just as a status symbol or some idealised fairy-tale. I love him and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.”

She says her piece, affection flowing from her almost of its own accord. As she does, she’s flooded with memories – throwing grapes at each other at the picnic they shared in the wildflower meadows beyond the gates. Jake smuggling cupcakes to her to cheer her up on bad days. Him clumsily risking his life climbing through her bedroom window just to help her rehearse her big address at a formal dinner, planting a kiss on her forehead every time she got through a cue card.

Their walks around the castle grounds, laughing at stupid inside jokes. Playing cards in the kitchens with Charles, Terry and Rosa. Teaching him how to paint and sketching him in increasingly ridiculous poses. Having dinner with his mom. Stealing away moments behind the stables and on staircases. Most vividly, their countless private rendezvous in the forest, free of all façades and responsibilities and reputations to uphold.

Amy refuses to hide any of it anymore – he is, openly and unashamedly, the man she loves.

No-one speaks, for a little while; she lets her honesty sink in. Her mother is wearing a look of abject horror – her dad’s expression is stony and unreadable, and it startles her when he is the first one to break the silence, directly addressing Rosa standing guard by the door.

“Diaz. Is all of this true?” Rosa glances at Amy, who gives her an encouraging nod. She knows her father has always valued Rosa’s directness as much as Amy does.

“Yes, sir.” She pauses. “And for the record, I’ve known both of these people a long time, and this is the happiest I’ve seen either of them. It’s kind of sickening, actually.”

Her parents exchange glances, a silent conversation Amy isn’t privy too – she’s too busy feeling her heart swell with further affection, this time for her best friend. She and Jake owe so much to Rosa helping them out, relaying messages back and forth and covering for them. When this is all over, Amy’s definitely embroidering a thank you pillow for her to punch.

“I see. Will you please bring this Jake Peralta here for me?” His tone is even and calm, almost unnervingly so. Rosa nods, quickly disappearing. She knows exactly where Jake will be; in the kitchens, probably stress eating day-old pastry and getting a last-minute pep talk from Charles (which is guaranteed to be largely unhelpful and delivered through hysterical tears).

She’d warned him that they’d probably want to meet him; he’d expressed anxiety about it last night, but Amy had quickly reassured him that no-one else’s opinion mattered to her about this. They’re getting married, whether her parents approve or not.

Obviously, she wants them to like him. She’s dedicated a lot of time to making sure he knows he is loved and accepted, and she’s willing to work even harder to wax lyrical about how wonderful he is for the rest of their lives if she has to. For now, though, she just has to focus on not getting them both exiled.

Her dad calmly asks her brothers to leave the table – Julian mutters in protest as he exits, only stopping to brightly clap Amy on the shoulder and earnestly congratulate her with an enthusiastic high five.

“He sounds great, mimi. I can’t wait to meet him.” For once, her older brother is completely sincere, save perhaps for the suggestive wink he gives her, and it’s a touching gesture that eases some of the relentless anxiety building in her gut. Amy dreads to think how insufferable the pair will be when they do finally meet. She can’t wait either.

Part of her is absolutely fucking terrified to be left alone with her parents with her open defiance and violation of their wishes hanging so ominously in the air – Amy Santiago has never been a rule breaker. She’s always worn the stupid fancy dresses even when she’s dying for something more practical and let Gina give her more and more complicated and ridiculous hairstyles and politely mingled with the endless line of boring high-status bachelors as her parents watched on hopefully. She’s always played the role of the only princess to perfection.

But then she thinks of little six-year-old Amy demanding that she be taught the same combat training as her brothers and twelve-year-old Amy petitioning to allow female members into the Royal Guard and, well. They really should have seen this coming from a mile away.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before Rosa strides back in, a clearly nervous Jake hurrying forward in her wake. For a moment, her original plan of whisking him away to start a simple life together swims into her head, a powerful urge to protect him surging over her.

But then their eyes meet, and he waves, a small nervous smile on his face. And then she notices, as it catches the sunlight streaming in through the window and glitters as if enchanted, the engagement ring hung proudly around his neck. And she just knows, as sure as the sun will rise, that they can handle anything.

“I understand that you are engaged to my Amy.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake rocks on his heels slightly, nervously fidgeting the way he always does when he’s anxious. “I’m very lucky to know her and I love her very much.” It’s not the most eloquent speech ever performed in this great hall, but it’s by far her favourite.

“How do I know you are good enough for my only daughter?”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m good enough for Amy. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met and the best thing that’s happened to me.” He steps closer to her, silently taking and squeezing her hand as he speaks. “But she still chose me, and I promise you that I will spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to be someone worthy of being loved by her.”

She wants to scream from the top of her lungs that he is completely and utterly good enough, and she wants to hurt anyone who has ever made him feel otherwise. Instead, she squeezes back, and mouths I love you while her parents exchange another hushed conversation.

“Well then - it appears there’s nothing we can do to stop you. Nor do I think we should try.” It could be a trick of the light, but she swears that she sees a glimmer of pride in her father’s eye. Her mom clears her throat, clearly still struggling to comprehend the situation.

“Mija, what we want most for you is for you to be happy. Does he make you happy?” She asks – Amy glances at the man beside her and finds her best friend, her fiancé, her favourite person. Easiest solve in the world.

“More than anything.”

“Then that settles that. You two have our blessing.” Her father says, as simply as if he was commenting on the weather. Amy blinks once, then again, her grip on Jake’s hand getting tighter.

“We…we do?”

“Yes, you do. We clearly have much to discuss, but I must first inform Prince Theodore that other arrangements need to be made.”

“I…wow. Thank you. Thank you, so much, I…” Her brain appears to be malfunctioning, so she does the only thing that feels right; she hugs her parents, whispering another strangled thank you, and then hastily pulls a stunned Jake out of the room, now squeezing his hand so tightly it’s probably cutting off all the circulation. If it does hurt, he doesn’t say anything – then again, in the moment neither of them seems able to speak.

She drags him into the nearest room; Holt’s classroom which, blessedly, is currently empty. Heart pounding, she finally meets Jakes gaze. He looks like he’s just found the end of a rainbow.

“Did they just…”

“Yeah. Yes. I think they did.”

“So, we’re…”

“Getting married. Yep. That is a thing that is officially happening.”

There’s a single moment before they’re both collapsing into shocked, near-hysterical laughter, an amalgamation of relief, disbelief, exhaustion and above all else, joy. Amy practically throws herself around him, performing some kind of strangled hybrid of laughing and crying as she buries herself into his shirt.

They stay like that for a while, completely wrapped up in each other. It could be seconds or minutes or maybe even hours – she doesn’t care. Time has ruled their life together for so long; now, it’s an insignificant enemy, no longer precious, unpredictable or finite. It’s bliss.

“Hey, listen. Rosa told me, uh, what you said. To your parents. About me being the love of your life and all that.” Jake says, suddenly adorably shy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She said it with a disgusted look on her face, but I think she’s secretly rooting for us.”

Amy hums in contentment, making a note to call her a secret sap and then hug her the next time she sees her. Jake clears his throat nervously, calling her attention back to him, all soft and warm honey gaze.

“You’re mine too, by the way.” He says sheepishly. “Just in case…I mean I hope you that know by now, but-“ She smothers his nervous ramblings with a firm kiss, finally. Finally, the abstract brush-strokes and subtle hues of the future they could have together come into sharp focus, vivid and prismatic.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, future wife.” He grins, kissing her again. She’s sure, now, as her lips meld to his that he is the person she was always meant to come home to, to find a home in.

Amy feels a wave of exhaustion overwhelm her; now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the unfortunate side-effects of not sleeping for almost twenty-four hours rapidly take hold. She barely suppresses a yawn, scrunching up her nose as Jake looks at her fondly.

“You wanna go back to bed? I happen to know an excellent nap partner.”

“Oh, great, me too. I’ll see if Hitchcock’s available.” She says, laughing when Jake pouts in offence, draping her arms around him, leaning up so that their noses are almost touching.

“It’s our first day together as an engaged couple. I want to do something special.”

“Ames, we have the rest of our lives to do something special.” He says, gazing down at her with so much undiluted affection that her resolve completely melts away. The rest of their lives. She really likes the sound of that.

“Okay, napping sounds pretty good right now too.”

“Good, because we have about five minutes until I collapse from twelve hours straight of nervous hysteria. Would you mind carrying me to your bedroom?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves him, but also offers him her hand. They soon collapse into Amy’s four-poster bed, quickly pulling the covers over their heads, wriggling around and fighting for space while they giggle like little kids. Amy sleepily leans into him when they’re all settled in, and she’s never felt safer than she does now, being lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“We’re getting married.” She whispers reverently, eyelids heavy – she feels his lips gently ghost against the top of her head in response, perhaps subconsciously as if he were made to do it. They drift off, and the last of her anxiety ebbs and flows away as if merely a bad memory.

It’s the best sleep either of them has had for months.

#b99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #my writing #we love a passion project #listen i haven't stopped thinking about this au for MONTHS. so here you go. welcome to my twisted mind #if you do decide to read thank you very much for indulging me :')#shut up sian #oh and also happy trying eve everyone! thought i'd get this out before we all die

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arsmara · 5 years

Text

Captive Prince model AU

Damen flinched at the loudness of his steps. He slowed his paced a little bit but he knew it couldn’t really be helped since this particular corridor in all its majestic arches and tinted windows seemed to be as deserted as the previous one he came through.

Damen didn’t know if this precise quietness in the whole campus was a constant state of the University of Vere or if it was merely a consequence of everyone already being gone to save the seats for the tournament that was about to take place in about an hour. He didn’t mind the silence, to be honest. The building was quite the sight to see, so being on your own and lost was not really an issue as much as a risk of finding yourself overwhelmed in its extravagance and detail with the turn of every corner.

The only problem was he couldn’t remember the way to the locker room and there was no soul around to ask.

He had been walking for the better part of the last hour and the daylight had already dimmed to a bright orange hue all around him.

Damen could vaguely recall Nikandros telling him to go across the first courtyard and past the fountain (“Wait, an actual fountain?” “Yes, Damen, a fountain with colored fishes. Pay attention”) and take the north corridor, so he had walked with no luck through not less than four courtyards with different sets of ostentatious gardens and although there were definitely people there frolicking about in the private sections, that was the kind of scene he’d dared not interrupt. Not even in desperate need for indications, as he was.

Veretians, he thought when a barely concealed giggle followed by a moany ‘ow’ rose from behind a neatly trimmed flowery bush. For all the fuss on nudity, Veretians were really a case in study on disregard for privacy when dealing with their perversions.

When finally spotting the exuberant fountain (hidden between a thick clump of blue hydrangeas) Damen found himself before two doors that he assumed divided men and women’s room. With a relieved sigh and after readjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder he opened the door in the left.

He suddenly found himself in a very illuminated space with tall windows that reached the ceiling in the entirety of the wall across from the door. The atmosphere was warm and thick with the smell of something chemical in nature, acidic and strong, that Damen could not identify but weirdly reminded him of the lemony cleaning products to scrub bathroom floors. Looking around he saw that there were no chairs or benches but a wide circle of easels each with a wooden stool placed behind.

And then, inevitably, his attention was dragged to the very center of this arrangement. There was a pale and luminous effigy of some sort, human sized and with white feathered wings, sitting on a makeshift dais right in front of him.

‘Alright, this is…definitely…not the locker room.’

Damen blinked into the scene so as to command the view to rearrange into something logical. A pale fraction of skin was visible in between feathers and creases of white fabric that wrapped around its slender body and pooled around it on the dais. Even partially covered by the wings one could see the strands of fair blond hair in the nape of a very human head.

Of all the things he would have expected to find when crossing a doorway in a foreign building in a foreign land, this was the farthest from it.

Then the creature turned his head slightly to the side and Damen saw that it was, actually, a man. A beautiful blonde half-naked winged man sitting in a pose that seemed elegant and tiresome at the same time. A halo of sunlight burned through the edges of his head and feathers making it seem as he had a glow coming from within. A true celestial vision right out of an akielon myth.

Or one of his weirdest sexual fantasies.

“You’re letting the draft in.” The blonde spoke without lifting his eyes from the phone in his hand and with a hint of annoyance in his voice of someone who has repeated this too many times before.

Damen was actually letting the draft in, though. He had been holding the door handle this whole time frozen in the entrance for the whole minutes that it took him to make sense of the scene. Damen rushed to shut the door and the loud sound echoed in the vastness of the room. He soon realized that he should have stepped outside before doing so but he quickly brushed the thought away. It was too late for that.

“Sorry.” said Damen in veretian. He had been in Vere for the whole day and the language came naturally to him at this point. “I-- got lost.”

The other man turned to properly look at him for the first time. He had striking blue eyes that scanned him from head to toe only to stop at his chest. Damen felt like he might have been doing something to his heart because it skipped a beat in the process. He wondered how all of this could be so unusual but so enticing at the same time.

“I’m afraid you are way off route, sweetheart.”

Damen looked down to realize that the focus of his attention was at the insignia on his jersey.

He offered a slight smile “I know; I came to represent my university in the sport summit.”

“Did you now.”

“Yes, I’m looking for the locker room.”

The blonde stared at him for some more seconds before turning back to his phone “Next door.”

“Thank you,” it seemed like the polite thing to say instead of ‘what the fuck are you supposed to be’ as he so fervently wished to ask.

Who was Damen after all, to question veretian worshipping practices. Or whatever this was.

“Do you need instructions to leave the room too?”

With a start Damen saw that the blonde was again staring sideways at him with those grave blue eyes edged in displeasure at his presence. “I – thanks. I know my way out.”

“¿Do I have to escort you out then?”

In spite of the provocation, he felt the corner of his mouth rise. “I would very much like that, but I’m afraid your wings might not make it through the door.” He saw the slight shift in the blonde’s gaze and Damen savored the pinch of satisfaction to notice he did not expect an actual response, “they’re quite large.”

The man tilted his head like a cat assessing a confusing behavior in his prey.

“But you did make it through.”

Damen couldn’t help but laugh at that. The veretian was spikey, he wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting any of this, really.

“Feeling better now that you took that off your chest?” said Damen drunk in the thrill of the rare moment. He knew that his size could be striking outside of Akielos. It was even in Akielos at times.

A smirk appeared in that pale face and he felt a shiver run down his spine, “It’s always a pleasure to welcome our rival brothers from Akielos,” the blonde continued, “especially since you all always seem to be on edge in matters of patriotic honor to my outmost enjoyment.”

Veretians and Akielons weren’t enemies and they hadn’t been for centuries, but there was always a natural rivalry that rose whenever the nations crossed each other paths in any scale. Never going beyond teasing but often shifting into subtle statements of one’s superiority over the other in matters of politics, sports and arts. Anatomy was also a favorite topic, apparently.

This seemed like the usual friendly banter, although it was common knowledge that Veretians seemed to enjoy disguising their true intentions under flourish and sweet voices.

Some poisons are inconspicuous, he reminded himself.

“I’d say you don’t know enough Akielons to back your remarks” said Damen.

After a moment the blonde spoke. “You’d be right.”

He felt, strangely, slightly pleased by this notion.

“Although you could still prove me right” The blonde continued with a defiance set in his stare “I haven’t even yet pointed out your barbaric tradition of stripping naked to fight on the dirt like animals trying to assert dominance.” he then faked a surprised look “Oh, is that what you came to do?”

“Wrestling, yes.” Damen felt his grin widen in wit. “And let’s not pretend that you had the cultural equivalent back then, only it ended in rape.”

The blonde glared at him “Someone has done his homework I see.”

“Someone is a political science major.” And had studied veretian language and culture for three semesters.

“Really? I was just wondering what your major was. That wasn’t my first option though.”

“What was it?”

“Barbarian.”

The barbed words of the veretian did nothing but encourage him to fight back, to keep the mood weird and spicy and see where it would take them. He held his tongue, however, as he now was noticing what he had overlooked in his initial shock. In a quick glimpse he noticed the canvases on the easels. There were splotches of colors starting to become shapes and some strokes giving volume to a close impression of the winged figure. Many shades of white, yellow and red. Blue for the sky behind, peeking in the background.

And for his eyes.

Ah. Everything was finally falling into place.

He had approached the easels in a seemingly unconscious impulse to study the paintings better, and when he raised his eyes he saw the man had followed his movement with a quiet tension locked in his jaw and frown. Damen felt a rush of regret at his own boldness. He should have asked before getting closer when they were alone in a room and he was still a stranger. He cleared his throat to casually ease back into conversation.

“So, are you a model?”

A pale eyebrow raised in his direction. “Do you think I’d wear wings and an open dress for personal choice?”

“Well,” Damen openly studied the attire, earning a scorn of the guy himself in return, “that is actually a chiton, a traditional Akielon attire,” he smiled as he stepped a little closer, “and I wouldn’t dare judge you on choosing to wear it.”

“Is it?” His lips curved in a cold smirk, he seemed to be holding an insult somewhere in there.

“Yes.” Damen shrugged, and then his mouth quirked helplessly. “It suits you.”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “Spare me the compliments, I’m not able to kick your ass from this position.”

Damen felt his smile widen. “Even if you could move, you probably couldn’t beat me,” and added “I’m really good at wrestling.”

The model huffed a humorless laugh.

“I guess we’ll never know.”

‘I guess you could know if you wanted to’ Damen didn’t say. He wasn’t supposed to flirt with Veretians, he knew. He almost could hear Nikandros scolding him. And Kastor. And his father…

A sudden realization caught his eye as he looked around one more time. “Why would there be paintings and model but no artists present?”

“We're on a 20-minute break,” the model said, “but technically there is an artist present now,” he turned his blue gaze back to him. "I also attend this class.”

"Oh? And how do you manage to paint yourself while modelling at the same time?"

He stopped himself from answering right away, visibly hesitating as he likely realized that he was interacting with a stranger on private matters.

"We," he finally pointed at the easels around him "all have to model for this class." A frustrated look. "It’s my turn today.” He let his displeasure show in every word.

A startling sound erupted from the door behind him. Someone was trying to push it open quite unsuccessfully. Damen arched an eyebrow to the other man in the room and he just gave a look that seemed to say do as you please and went back to scroll through his phone. ‘alright’ thought Damen as he went to open the door and a dark haired man entered the room with two steamy paper cups in his hands and walked past Damen to sit on one of the stools beside the model.

The winged man groaned a protest. “Lazar, could you please not let the door open while I’m in this state of nudity?”

“Vannes is coming behind me,” said the man as he handed him one of the cups and with a mischievous grin and a bow added, “Your highness.”

“Thank you,” said the blonde without acknowledging the mocking title. “Vannes, close the door.”

Damen turn around and saw a woman standing in the doorway staring intensely at him to then stop at the blonde man.

“My my, Laurent has a visitor,” she declared with a hint of provocation in her charming tone.

Laurent.

Damen couldn’t stop the rush of triumphant satisfaction from showing in his face at this new piece of information, but he could feel the curious gaze of the newcomers piercing him still, so he smiled and said, “I was just passing to admire Veretian aesthetics.”

“I see. Did you find something pleasing to the eye?” she asked, ignoring the poorly concealed scowl in her direction.

“He was just entertaining me while you left me to rot here.” intervened Laurent in a calmed tone.

“Quit being a bitter old man, you’re gonna wrinkle” said Lazar.

“Grampa Laurent” added the woman sipping from her own cup.

“Do you realize” retorted Laurent “that I have the power to ruin your work just by slightly shifting my leg to the side” he smirked at the pure horror that showed in both their faces. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Damen very deliberately did not entertained the thought of his legs parting underneath the cloth.

“You’re really playing your cast iron bitch card today.” Said Lazar with a cold grin.

“What I’m doing,” Laurent retorted, “is merely trying to protect my remaining dignity.”

“I say you must be hallucinating as to believe you still have some dignity left.”

“I say that’s probably because I’ve inhaled all the turpentine in the air.”

“It is quite heavy to breath in here.” Damen noticed.

“Oh no, that’s just the sexual tension in the room.” Lazar said in a low voice to Damen.

Laurent pretended not to hear.

“Is your friend gonna join us the rest of the session?” asked the woman, eyeing at Damen’s full body while producing a case from her bag where she seemingly kept her brushes.

“He was leaving for the sport summit to celebrate the new alliance between us and the university of Akielos.” He stopped talking just to add. “And he’s not my friend.”

“Really?” asked Vannes with renewed interest. “Tell me, are there Akielon women among your team?”

“A few, yeah. Although it’s mostly men.”

Vannes and Lazar exchanged a look.

“Are you really considering dropping the session to go check on some sweaty muscles.” Asked Laurent.

“Laurent,” Lazar said “It’s Akielon sweaty muscles. In the nude.”

Damen blinked in amusement at that. “We don’t really compete in the nude anymore, you know.” At least not since a couple centuries ago.

“Anyway” added Vannes, “consider this a better alternative to an anatomy class.”

“We’re doing it in the name of art and beauty.” Said Lazar already heading to the door. “Tell Berenger we’re failing the class for a good cause.”

“I’m not telling him anything on your behalf.”

Damen saw them leave and then they were alone in the room again.

They stared for an awkward instant until Laurent broke the silence, “So?” Why are you still here, he didn’t have to articulate.

The truth was, Damen didn’t even know why he hadn’t left yet.

He wasn’t going to tell him that, of course.

“It seems you’re to remain here for a while longer.”

“Well, it seems like you are doing exactly the same thing still.”

Damen looked at his position on the dais. “You are not allowed to move at all?”

“Nothing escapes you, does it.”

“Do you need anything?” asked Damen. “Before I go, I mean.”

Laurent closed his mouth suddenly taken aback by the offer, like kindness was the last thing he would expect from Damen. He narrowed his eyes as trying to read into his real intentions.

Damen shrugged. “Fine.”

“Wait.”

Damen froze in place having already turned away. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch in an attempted smile but he knew better than to aggravate Laurent any more. Judging by all the words exchanged today, he seemed to be on edge by his situation.

He heard Laurent give a long-suffering sigh. “Would you plug my phone?” He held his phone up as to illustrate the request.

Damen was beaming to comply but he held back just enough to look as pleased as he felt but not as much as to rush into his proximity. He reached for the phone and the accidental brush of fingertips with each other brought a sudden spike in his heartbeat.

“Where’s the charger?” he asked.

Laurent pointed at one of the bags hanging on the nearest wall. “Outer pocket on the left side.”

Damen plugged his phone and when he did, the screen lighted up for a short moment. The picture displayed was a painting of a very green landscape with a brown horse looming in the background. The brush strokes where rough and noticeable in certain areas but it held a lot of detail in others. It was eerie and delicate and probably it was Laurent’s work. It felt very intimate to see it, it probably was rude to do so. Damen looked away.

Laurent cleared his throat.

“Thank you.”

Damen raised both eyebrows at him. “What, are you so humbled by me plugging your phone that you decide to yield now?”

Laurent gave a soft chuckle and Damen thought he would never recover from the ecstasy of it.

“I think we are both running out of time to continue our tête-à-tête.” Laurent smile seemed honest now.

Damen conceded with a nod.

“I should really go now. My team can’t hold up without me” And Nikandros most likely must be wishing a slow painful death upon him right now.

“Aren’t you confident.”

“I know it.”

“So you think you’ll do well?” Laurent added with a hint of amusement.

Damen let his determination show in his expression. After all, he knew the extent of his capabilities.

“I intend to win.” Todays was only a friendly match, the real competition came on Thursday, but Damen meant it all the same. He always aimed for victory.

Laurent’s gaze fell on him. “That is,” he said with a defying undertone “if you ever leave.”

Damen smiled “Goodbye, Laurent.” He made the word roll in his tongue with a touch of heavy accent that made the blonde blush slightly, or so he wanted to believe.

He made his way out without looking back, feeling a warm hint of euphoria in his chest that he blamed on the anticipation of the tournament instead of the brief encounter with the amusing scene in the art studio. The darkness outside the bright room suddenly felt too unappealing compared to the scrutiny of the pair of blue eyes left behind.

It almost made him forget once again where he was supposed to be right now.

This was already becoming ridiculous.

Laurent stretched his limbs to let the blood reach every corner of his aching body. Curse Lazar for suggesting the costume.

Of course, if he hadn’t wear anything he could have taken a break with the rest of them, and he blatantly refused to pose nude. But such an attire required not only to not cover himself for warmness sake in between sessions (blame the blasted feathers and their proneness to fall away), it also made it impossible to move at all, for if a dressed model broke the pose all the creases and exact placement of the folds could never be replicated again and the image would be compromised for the artists. It was, utterly, a deadly trap.

At least he got to keep his underwear on. Small victories, he thought.

The numbness of his legs after spending the last two and half hours sitting in the same position had luckily dimmed away as he discarded the wings and finally made his way to the locker room to get dressed.

It was dark outside and the campus was quiet now that the tournament had finished.

He wondered if the Akielon won. Then he stopped himself from thinking in the Akielon.

Laurent walked to his locker and opened it. He considered taking a shower for a moment, but it was late enough to risk losing the train. He could relax later, at home.

He let the fabric fall around him –the chiton, he thought with a bitter grin –, and shivered in the cold air on his skin. He then proceeded to look for his clothes inside.

A rush of fast paced steps cut through the silence and the sound of someone storming into the locker room set his senses on alert, tension locking into his limbs, ready to act.

Laurent waited for a second, assessing the possibilities, before he peaked from behind the locker row to see who it was.

“Oh” a familiar voice. “Hi, again.”

Of course it was him. Laurent rolled his eyes at his own bad luck.

He noticed Laurent standing in just his underwear and quickly averted his gaze with a sudden blush darkening his cheeks.

“Sorry, I um…” he then pointed forward and disappeared through the adjacent locker row.

“You seem to really be angling for eloquence, I see.”

He heard the man snort softly in reply. Laurent was silently grateful for his tact to not step into Laurent’s space when he was, impossibly, in a more exposed state of dressing that the previous one they'd encountered each other.

Or where he had encountered Laurent, more precisely.

“I came to retrieve something; I’ll be leaving right away.”

Laurent ignored him to continue working himself into his clothes. It felt amazing to have pants on after so many hours of just the nothing. He was focused in getting inside his oversized grey jumper that had been Auguste’s before, when he heard the other man clear his throat as looking for an opening in conversation.

"Yes?"

“Are you heading home?”

“I am.”

“Alone?”

Laurent stopped in his track. He went round the lockers to face the Akielon properly.

“Why?”

The man frowned slightly at this, “It’s late.”

“The train station is nearby.” Laurent shrugged.

The Akielon smiled reassuringly and showed a pair of car keys, “I had left my keys on top of the lockers.” He explained, and then, “I can take you.”

Laurent stared intently at him. He was positive the man, either moved by his noble Akielon code of honor or just his own kindness held no ill intentions beyond the offering. He showed an openness that was hard to ignore once you managed to look past all of that body (and honestly, there was a lot of it). That didn’t meant Laurent had to easily go with it.

“I’m perfectly capable of going on my own.”

“I don’t doubt it. But I didn’t expect to find you again here and now I did, I won’t be able to rest easy knowing that I left you to go on your own at the risk of getting mugged or kidnapped.”

Laurent fought down a chuckle.

“Have you ever listened to yourself talk? I don’t know you, you could be a terrible driver and doom me to a very tragic accidental death or you could be a criminal, for all I know, luring me into your car to get your way with me.”

Something passed over the Akielon’s face then. For all his determination and air of leadership displayed before he now looked truly defeated by the mere thought of him hurting Laurent. Or maybe the thought of Laurent distrusting him.

“I would never touch you without your consent.”

Laurent deliberately brushed away the thought of the possible scenario in which he actually consented.

“Yes well, that isn’t happening tonight or ever.” Laurent grabbed his bag to walk out. It was late alright. “It’s not personal, it’s just a matter of common sense. I don’t even know your name.”

The Akielon’s eyes widened a fraction at this notion. Of course he had not realized.

“I’m Damianos,” he then added with a smile, “but my friends call me Damen.”

“Damianos” he tilted his head in acknowledgement. Not that it would matter, he still wasn’t going to go with him and this would likely be the last he’d see of Laurent.

He let the moment stretch as he checked on the time in his wrist watch. And when he turned for the door Damen interrupted once again his attempt to escape the overwhelming presence of him.

“What if,” he spoke slowly as to not scare Laurent any further. Not that Laurent was actually scared of him in the first place, “You drive us there.”

Laurent blinked into the picture of Damen purposely handling the keys to him in an act of foolish misplaced trust.

He truly would get himself killed at some point in his life.

“And you can hold on to my wallet and passport the whole time.”

Laurent gazed back into the Akielons honest expression. He didn’t know if the sudden interest he felt was towards the idea of him openly putting so much trust in Laurent or just the fact that he seemed to have the whole control of the situation; he knew that if he just told him to fuck off he’d leave him alone and yet –

He was actually starting to see the appeal in getting home earlier than expected.

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seven-oomen · 4 years

Text

Ranch Lune Argentée | Chapter one

As a special little birthday treat to everyone who follows me on here, I will post this chapter here and I will probably update Once upon a time when I wake up in 8 hours or so. I’ve hit a point in both chapters that I can put both of these up for my birthday celebration. Once I finished this outlaw au I will start writing the Chris/Noah/Peter one unless this one doesn’t do well. I might start writing that one first. But for now, Enjoy and let me know if you enjoy this!

“Christopher, dinner’s ready!” He wiped the sweat of his brow and looked up to where his lovely wife was calling out to him from the homestead.

All-day long he’d been putting down more of the fence surrounding their land, expanding upon ranch lune argentée, and it showed. He was sweaty, dirty, and slightly sunburned from the hard work. But it would pay off in the end, it always did.

He stored the wooden beams underneath the canvas tarp that he kept around to keep them dry and headed over to the house, making sure to stop by the water basin to clean himself up before he went inside.

“Smells lovely, darling.” He pressed a kiss to Victoria’s cheek as he walked past her and took a seat at the dinner table.

They had a decent life together, him and Vic. And a large part of that was because of her cunning mind and his family’s ranch. They had all they needed and with Victoria’s insights and investments they even had some spared for the future ahead. His father had called her a downright mastermind. He was inclined to agree.

“Thank you, dear, I see you managed to clean yourself up a little. Good. Wouldn’t do for you to smell like a pig at the dinner table.” Victoria said sharply, though he noticed the way her lips curled up just a little. Indicating her amusement.

“I’m glad to see you find my suffering amusing, darling.” He smiled, patiently waiting for her to help herself to the chicken and potato roast before making himself a plate.

“As if I don’t suffer every day with your little ideas and schemes. I told you to let the fences stay put. We don’t have enough farmhands to handle the daily chores right now, let alone to expand the ranch. But you don’t listen to me, now do you?” Victoria sighed, she was a tough woman, his wife. And she wouldn’t ever let him forget it.

Not that he wanted her to, he quite enjoyed her banter. “It’s going to pay off in the end, we’ll get more horses, more cows, a couple of chickens, geese, and sheep. We can really make something of this place.”

“Gonna have to get the hands first, don’t we? Or did you plan to get all that done by your lonesome?” She gave him a pointed look and dug into her food. “Never listens, heaven forbid.”

“I’ve been doing alright, so far. Made great progress.” He said, quieting down when he saw his wife’s glare. He dug back into his food with a soft, “Yes darling.”

Dinner went by in a quiet affair until he heard his wife get up whilst he was in the middle of assaulting his vegetables. She must have seen the way he pushed his carrots around his plate and how he hung his head. For he heard her sigh, pulling his chair back a little so she could sit on his lap and cup his face with her hand. “It’s not a terrible idea for the long run but for now it’s not what we need. We should focus on what we have and running that well before we expand. Get some more farmhands for the land too. It’s tough living already.”

He tilted his head back a little so he could look upon her fair complexion. Her stunning blue eyes stern but kind and her beautiful strong features framed by her short, flaming red hair gave her a stunning appearance that put fear in the hearts of all men. It was unusual for a woman to cut her hair that short in these times, but he quite liked it that way and there was no man or woman alive that dared to confront Victoria on anything. Let alone her wardrobe or hair choices. Not unless you had no wishes left for life.

“Why do you have to be so wise and reasonable?” He wondered what he would ever do without her, most likely he wouldn’t survive a single season. She kept him on the straight and narrow after all.

“Because one of us has to be.” She smiled, warm and loving before capturing his lips in a kiss. He hummed appreciatively and leaned into her, pulling her closer so he could roam his hands over her hidden muscles. She was a strong woman, both in mind and body. But she was also soft and sweet in his arms and melted into his touch.

He deepened their kiss, growling playfully as she nipped at his lips and moved her hand down his chest, over his abdomen, and slipped it into the waistband of his pants.

A heavy knock on the front door made her still her hand. His growl turning from playful to frustrated. “Goddammit… Think they’ll go away?”

Another hard knock answered that question. Vic slowly pulled her hand from him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Better go see what they want before they break down that door.”

She stood up, went to the front door, and opened it just as he made himself presentable. A surprised “Gerard? Kate?” Sounded from the doorway and Vic beckoned him over.

He walked over, wrapping an arm around Victoria’s shoulders as he stood beside her. His father and sister stood on the other side of the door, some men behind them who were holding ropes tightly in their hands. “What’s going on? Who did you get?”

His father didn’t visit much, only when he caught another supernatural being that needed to be disposed of. That’s why he’d build the ranch originally. As a cover for what his family naturally did anyway for the last 120 years. Marie-Jeanne may have started their profession but his father was dead set on finishing it.

“One of the originals.” His father smiled, “A true-born, trying to escape the trap we laid for them. There’s a few more out there who escaped capture for now, but we’ll get them.”

“You bastard!” The beast snarled, half transformed due to the mistletoe oil-soaked ropes, “You murdered them! All of them including children! I’ll make you pay. I swear my vengeance will be sweet when I am freed.”

The beast’s words shocked him and as he glanced at his wife he could see her wide eyes and grim expression as well. The code forbids them from murdering the innocent, children, humans in a pack. We only hunt those that hunt us. And if his father and sister broke that code… The tribunal would not be merciful.

“What does that mean? Father, what did you do?” He met his father’s eyes in a long, hard stare, jaws set and eyes battling for dominance.

“What had to be done to exterminate them. We’ll get the last little ones too, don’t you worry.” Gerard gave his son and his daughter-in-law a hard stare before he acknowledged Victoria. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, sweetheart.”

He turned to the hunters behind him. “Lock it in the barn cage, I want him to watch as we hunt down his last family and kill them.”

Chris looked at his wife in shock, though he noticed she was thinking thoroughly about something. Judging by the little crow's feet in the corner of her eyes and the way her brows furrowed. She gave him the tiniest of nods after a moment or two and looked back to his father. “When you capture the little ones, bring them to me first. As Matriarch, I decide what shall be done.”

The other hunters paused and waited for his father and wife to come to a decision. They may listen to his father as the oldest living Argent, but his wife wasn’t wrong. She was the Argent Matriarch through marriage, after his mother had died two years prior, command of the Argent hunters had naturally gone to Victoria.

He saw the anger in his father’s eyes, the knowledge that he couldn’t openly defy Victoria or risk a tribunal for ignoring the chain of command. Though he did wonder what his wife’s game plan was here, his father had just openly admitted to breaking the code.

“Fine. We’ll bring them to you first.” His father finally conceded, knowing a losing battle when he was faced with one. He nodded to the beast they captured. “What about this one?”

“The cage in the barn will be sufficient to hold him,” Victoria said, sharing a brief look with him that said; We need to find out what happened to the wolf.

The hunters obliged, putting the snarling beast in the barn’s special cage before cutting him free of his ropes. Once the mistletoe wore off, the beast’s features changed back to those of a handsome young man. His brown hair was slightly singed and his soft curls a tangled mess. His eyes changed from Alpha red to stunning blue, certain anger and sadness apparent in them. What had they done to this young man and what had this man done to deserve his father’s treatment? Who had he killed?

His father then turned to Victoria, his eyes betraying the internal anger he felt but his expression and tone were pleasant enough. “This to your satisfaction, my dear?”

“It is. Thank you.” Victoria led them out, leaving him alone with the man in the cage.

#creativity he wrote #petopheria #petopheria outlaw au #outlaw au #petopher #teen wolf fanfiction #ben writes fanfiction

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webcricket · 5 years

Text

Remember Rio; or, What is Love

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Dean Winchester

Word Count: 1984

Summary: Castiel has some hesitations early on in your relationship. Thankfully Dean is there to kick him in the ass. One confused celestial, non-explicit talk about sex, cowboys, and kisses.

Dean hoists a dry-rot ridden wooden box to waist-level and hurls it unceremoniously at the floor. The container collapses in on itself upon impact, contents skittering amok in a cloudburst of dust.

Several of the larger knickknacks cease their tumble at Castiel’s feet. He doesn’t bother to look down, too absorbed in inner turmoil of thought to pay any heed to them or Dean’s growing frustration.

The hunter isn’t annoyed about the frantic search through someone else’s collection of crap, it’s in the job description. What he is annoyed about is the angel’s brooding. And Cas happens to still be standing in the exact same spot he dallied in the last time Dean turned around from his present task of tossing a storage shelf in this dimly lit basement in search of some a cursed trinket Sam said they absolutely positively needed to destroy to save the world. Dean has as yet unspoken reservations about the merit’s of his brother’s claim and the moping celestial both. He picks up a delicate vase next – an intricate pattern of pink flowers and thin bright green vines laces the rim – and intentionally drops it arching a speculative brow when the angel doesn’t so much as flinch at the tinkle of shattering porcelain.

Boiling impatience pries apart the bite of the hunter’s tongue. “What the hell, man?” he grumbles. “Are you planning to just stand there all night or are you gonna help me find this damn totem?”

Cas blinks, blues resolving into focus on his friend. “Sorry, I was thinking about the other night.” The other night in question being the night of your third official date with the angel and the very same night you jumped his celestially articulated bones only to have him proceed to politely excuse himself mid-makeout session just when things got heated enough to warrant the peeling off of clothing, leaving you winded, wanton, and clutching his trench coat.

“Come on, you’ve been thinking for three days about something that requires zero thought and all the action.” Dean quells a reflexive roll of his greens, stepping over the glittering shards to clasp him roughly by the shoulder. “What are you so worried about anyway? You’ve done the deed before. With that reaper-” Dean scratches at his chin. “Amy, no-”

The angel respires a beleaguered sigh as Dean runs through a list of potential names. Cas has been trying to winnow down the reasons why he fled for days. It’s not because he’s a fully-functional powered-up angel of the Lord again and all the supposed sexlessness that formality entails. He’s equipped to satisfy a partner in every way a human can, and divinely more. He’s definitely physically attracted to you, so his vessel becoming aroused isn’t a barrier. He wants to please you any way he can, and he understands it’s clear you want to take the relationship to the next step in pursuit of that pleasure. No matter how much he thinks about it, he can’t quite pinpoint the source of his hesitation.

“April!” Dean hits on the correct name with an enthusiastic note.

Cas glares – April not being an entirely pleasant memory considering she killed him.

“What?” Dean shrugs, expression wholly unapologetic in amusement. “For Chuck’s sake, what’s there to think about? It’s not a freaking apocalypse. No one’s life is in danger. It’s just sex.”

“It’s different.” Cas’ jaw tenses around the words. “With April, it was just sex. With Y/N, it’s … different.” He repeats himself for lack of a better descriptor.

“Different how?” Dean squints, closely examining the angel’s stymied expression. He interprets therein the folds of his brow a light bulb revelation. “Well smack my ass and call me Sally, you’re in love!” Dean exclaims, overly triumphant in the revelation.

Cas’ gaze startles wide, creating a mountain-like crag of creases across the ridge of his forehead, then narrows precipitously into the softer ill-defined flatland of genuine bewilderment. The part about loving you is the least confusing aspect of the statement and he accepts it without qualm – with a passive wave of relief even in response to the exact sort of different he could not explain a mere moment before – the reason for the rest of the hands-on proposition to slap Dean’s derrière whilst referring to him as Sally is beyond angelic comprehension. “Why would I-”

“Shut up.” Dean interjects, holding up a quieting finger, halting the inevitable query of why Dean would require Cas to do any of the aforementioned buttock spanking and name-calling and whether this is the appropriate time or place for such an activity.

You choose that instant to mosey on into the dank cellar scene. Cas and Dean bickering like an old married couple about what you assume to be utter nonsense is nothing new; you’d be worried if they weren’t verbally sparring, static silence on either of their parts rarely bodes well. “Whatcha guys talkin’ ‘bout?” you ask with vague disinterest, surveying the mess for any sign of the totem.

Cas casts Dean a swimmingly deep blue puppy-eyed plea to say nothing.

Dean ignores the appeal. The hunter’s eyes twinkle more than they have right to in the poorly illumined basement; a confident smirk creeps across his face. Bulky biceps tighten the fabric of his grey Henley shirt as he crosses his arms in preparation for the unsolicited relational pot stirring in which he is about to partake. “Sex,” he states, louder than necessary; the sharpness of the single syllable slices the humidly heavy atmosphere; the thick foundation of the walls absorbs any attempted reverberation.

“Nothing,” Cas’ simultaneous utterance muddles Dean’s answer; the decibel of his voice sinks to an Earth-quaking grumble. Blues taking on a chagrinned shade, he shoots his friend a betrayed glower.

Re-crossing his limbs, Dean scowls in recrimination. “Really? You were feeling different about it minute ago. And now … nothing?”

Your mouth gapes into the shape of an unspoken oh. This, this could explain why Cas bolted the other night and hasn’t been able to look you in the eyes since let alone stay in the same room alone with you for more than an awkward minute. You always had your suspicions about their so-called profound bond and standing on the outside looking in it appears you’ve interrupted the discussion of a secretive tryst half of the liaison isn’t ready to openly chat about. “Maybe I should leave you two alone then,” you mutter, failing to disguise the disillusionment lowering your tone.

“You should really stay for this, sweetheart,” Dean reassures, reaching out to catch you by the wrist before you can turn to leave. “It involves you.”

You glance from his gleaming greens to his clutching fingers to Cas’ averted blues and back. You snort a light laugh, one imbed with false lightness of spirit in affront to the crush of disappointment you feel, and swat Dean’s gentle grip loose. You pursue the path of lashing out in lieu of letting either of them see your pain. “Look Dean-o, I don’t care what you think I said when we split that bottle of tequila last summer in Rio and passed out drunk on the balcony, I’m not interested in a cowboy themed threesome with you, or anyone else for that matter.” You direct the last bit at the angel who seems set on stolidly avoiding the interaction in favor of staring at the dusty-beamed ceiling.

Dean’s mouth mutely opens and closes in a vain attempt to formulate a rebuff; his cheeks warm to a freckled tint of pink. He doesn’t remember sharing that particular frolic of a fantasy with you, but also acknowledges with a bob of his head and a swallowed hmm that it sounds like something he could’ve admitted to in uninhibited drunken fervor. Because his best coping skill for embarrassment involves embracing the injurious fact with bombastic confidence, he accepts your personally revealing slight in Dean-branded stride. “First off little lady, you have no idea what you’re missing out on. And secondly,” he begins to recall several small snippets of detail, “it wasn’t tequila, it was RumChata.”

Your eyebrows lift. “That’s your take away from that night?”

“Yes. That, and your apparent fetish for ass-less chaps.”

It’s your fault for daring him to remember to stage his self-defense. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Happy to oblige.” Dean takes a swaggering stride backward and bows. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” His pointed glare toward Cas effectively wields the departing verb as a strong suggestion and prompts you to recall the angel of your affection has been standing there wordlessly observing the entire exchange.

Conversationally contagious blush accosting your cheeks now, you cede to a compulsion to fill the weighty silence between you and the seraph with a throaty hum that never quite evolves into intelligible speech.

“I’m sorry.” Cas speaks first.

You peer up from studying your shoes, shod toes poking the sole of the foot opposite, to take in his fondly tempered features. The intensity of tenderness conveyed in his steady regard somersaults your stomach and frees a flock of butterflies whose fluttering wings unfold inside out to caress your skin with a pleasant shiver; these three days past you missed this sensation only he causes and which you hope never to grow accustomed to.

Given he failed to comprehend the bulk of the interaction he just witnessed, he steps nearer and clarifies for both your sakes the part for which he is apologetic. “Sorry about leaving so suddenly the other night when there was, uh, an expectation of” –his hands seek refuge in his pockets “-um, intimacy.”

“Oh, Cas” –you dive into the hooks of his arms, wrapping the rigid pillar of his vessel in a hug while keeping a carefully calculated platonic distance of a little over an inch between the press of your bodies “-there’s no expectation. No pressure. I just thought, I mean, you seemed into it so I-”

Fingers circling your shoulders, he dips you backward in order to meet your gaze as he speaks, “I was – am – ‘into it,’ as you say. I’ve thought of little else since that night except for how I might explain my retreat and earn your forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” You assuage his worry, assuming the explanation is forthcoming.

Broad palms smoothing to your spine, he pulls your pliant body close to banish the cushion of non-romantic space you created solely for his benefit and for which he determines there is no obvious benefit. Kissing first the top of your head, he perches his chin upon your lovingly consecrated crown. Exhaling a heated breath into your scalp, his lips move against the silken locks of your hair. “Dean, in his way, helped me understand a feeling I’ve struggled to identify. When it peaked that night – overwhelming, exhilarating, the height of a foreign precipice I could equate only with a sense of uncontrollable falling – I feared the unknown dangers it posed to you.”

“To us,” you correct. “We’re either together in this, or we’re-”

“Us,” he firmly agrees before you can finish; the hint of a smile touches his stoic pout.

Wriggling in his delightfully confining grasp, you wind your arms around his neck; anchoring your wandering fingers into the chestnut curls overlying his nape, you guide his forehead down to rest against yours. You know the feeling well to which he alluded; the terror, too, of a new love.

“Love,” he echoes the sentiment coloring your mind. “Yes, love.”

You shudder in surprise against the perceived incursion upon your thoughts and scold him with a mock-scowl.

Again seeking absolution, he teases you with the feathery brush of a kiss upon the side of your mouth; gratitude wells in his angelic heart when you give chase to his lips in order to seal and solidify your devotion despite his missteps; missteps of which he is certain there will be many yet to come.

Castiel tag list: (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!) @jeepangel @sammiesamness @willowing-love @roxy-davenport @blueicevalkyrie @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @thesugargalaxy @bluetina-blog @dont-trust-humanity @afanofmanystuffs @honeybeetrash @bucky-thorin-winchester @superwholockz @tistai @wordstothewisereaders @gill-ons @mrswhozeewhatsis @marisayouass @stone-met @castiel-savvy18 @samualmortgrim @trexrambling @magnificent-mantle @kdfrqqg @xdifsx @moon-and-stars-cas @mandilion76 @rockfairy @peaceloveancolor @unicorntrooper @anisolatedship @itsilvermorny @aditimukul @kudosia @goofynerd-67babylove @uninspirationalsonglyrics @gray-avidan @mishascupcake @mishapanicmeow @praisecastielamen @roseyhxnt @jessikared97 @let-the-imaginationflow @warriorqueen1991 @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @hisnameisboobear @kristendanwayne @fuschiarulerinthebluebox @coolpencilpie @jenabean75 @luciathewinchestergirl @morganas-pendragons @heyitscam99 @fangirl-and-stuff @selahbela @realgreglestrade @splendidcas @pointlesscasey @i-larb-spooderman @thewhiterabbit42 @thelostverse @castieliswatchingoverme @beccollie18 @dragonett8 @dixie-chick @jtownraindancer @carowinsthings @passionghost @sherlockedtash88 @futureparent @gabbie7-11 @myfandomlife-blog @dreamerkim @shamelesslydean @earthtokace @neaeri @justanormalangel @lone-loba @supernaturalymarvel @lilrubixx @wings-and-halo @thehoneybeecastielfollows @musiclovinchic93 @81mysteriouslyme @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jaylarkson @pixiedusts @spookysculderfiles @laqueus-ludovicus @missjenniferb @lexininja @jessiekay2010 @skrratata @rhiannonj79 @calicat79

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel imagine #spn x reader #castiel fluff #castielxreader #castielxyou #cas x reader #cas x you #reader x castiel #you x castiel #cricket writes cas

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magewriter · 5 years

Note

Kalex: Alpha/Omega (no smut necessary) Someone has tampered (possibly Lex or Lord) with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City so the DEO need to make an emergency supply, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working, Kara loses her powers due to heat approaching and Alex get ferociously protective about Kara when others start sniffing around her. If this is the kind of thing you would rather not write I totally understand.

Here you go, and thanks for the prompt!

So…that Happened

Someone has tampered with the suppressants to make them redundant in National City. The DEO and other scientists rush to fix it, unfortunately everyone is suffering the affect of theirs not working.

Oh I do love a challenge!

Words: 1499

I own nothing and this is in response to a fic request on tumblr. Please send more!

==============

Later, Maxwell Lord would swear that his intention had not been the end result. His goal had been to create a pheromone that would repel non-humans, ostentatiously geared toward pests but suspected to be a bio-weapon against aliens.

What he actually created and subsequently released via ‘lab accident’ caused the suppressants taken by the humans and other species whose biology followed alpha/beta/omega lines to become redundant. Thankfully, the effect had not been able to travel beyond the edge of the city limits.

At first, no one thought anything of it. The product on hand was disposed of and new was brought it. The first cycle was a little rough, but people were at least prepared for it.

The second was worse because everyone thought they were safe.

The DEO, L-Corp, and even CADMUS got to work trying to undo what Lord had done. As the suppressants worked their way out of systems, heats and ruts were rougher and more prevalent. Violence skyrocketed as those unmated and young fought to control urges no longer under their control.

“Alex, you need to sleep.” Kara tugged on her alpha’s shirt. “Please.”

The Kryptonian was a mess. She had been out almost full-stop breaking up and trying to deescalate fights between everyone. She had never seen betas so stressed out trying to keep the peace. The entire city had been placed under quarantine and martial law.

It didn’t help that the closer her heat came, the weaker she was. It wasn’t a solar flare, but she wasn’t superpowered either.

“We need to fix this,” Alex growled. “We can’t keep living like this.” She had already thrashed several other alphas over their leering at Kara.

Kara wrapped her arms around the older woman. “I know,” she whimpered. They weren’t mated yet, although it wasn’t for lack of trying on Kara’s part.

Alex was stubborn.

“I know, but you aren’t going to find the solution if you exhaust yourself. Even Lena’s taking a break, although that might be because otherwise she would be killing her board members.”

“I’ll help her hide the bodies,” Alex grunted. She turned, wrapping her own arms around Kara and burying her face in the blonde’s neck. She took in the omega’s scent and felt her knees buckle. “Rao Kara, how close is your heat?”

Kryptonians only went into heat or rut three times a year. Humans went roughly every six to eight weeks. Alex felt as if she had been in hell for the last six months. The suppressants offered by the DEO were stronger than what was openly available to the public so had lasted longer, but not by much.

“Maybe a few days,” Kara admitted softly. She knew Alex’s rut was even closer, could feel it.

“And you’ve still been out,” Alex felt the growl building in her chest. It was going to be like high school all over again.

“Someone has to be.” James and Winn were out of commission. Many at the DEO were in the same shape. Lucy had already locked herself and Vas up in a cell. J’onn could only be in so many places. M’gann had taken the form of a Green Martian to help him. Nia had been sent home because she had been using her powers to the point of nosebleeds, partly due to the stress of being a beta.

The whole city had gone insane.

“Not you this close to your heat,” Alex insisted. She looked up just in time to catch sight of several agents she knew to be alphas looking into her lap, their focus on the blonde in her arms.

She snarled, showing off the incisors that were sharper with the onset of her rut. Kara was hers. Her hold tightened.

Kara huffed. “We could avoid the posturing if you weren’t so stubborn.”

Alex huffed. “You really want to bind yourself to me?”

“I have since we were teenagers,” Kara nipped at Alex’s neck.

“Kara,” Alex hissed.

Kara whimpered, burying her face into Alex’s neck. “Alex, please.”

Alex grit her teeth. If she gave in…

So what if she did? They weren’t teenagers anymore. They were practically already together.

What was the worst that would happen: they would end up happy?

She was already happiest when she was with Kara.

“Home, now,” Alex growled.

They emerged from the apartment three days later, fresh markings on their necks and far more relaxed than possibly ever. Kara was having a difficult time keeping her feet on the ground. Alex’s hand in hers was probably the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Alex felt the same way. Her mind was buzzing, clearer than it had been in months.

Their calm was broken by their shared best friend storming into Alex’s lab.

“Where the hell have you been?” The frazzled Lena Luthor demanded. She wrinkled her nose as she took them in. “Fucking finally. Have you had any time to look over the latest panels?”

“Just doing so now,” Alex held up the file. “I had an idea…and are you okay?”

Eyes blown, she stared at them as if they had lost their minds. “While you’ve been wallowing in mating bliss, I have come this close,” she held her hand up, “to murdering my entire board, my mother, and every fucking alpha that came within five feet of me.”

“Lena, sweetheart,” Kara took her hand, “your fingers are touching. Have you eaten or slept at all in the last week?”

“Are there any bodies you need help hiding?” Alex glanced up from the files. “And this should work.”

“Alex,” Kara glowered at her. “Lena, let’s get you some food and a bed. Alex can start working on the suppressants while we do that, okay?” Gently, she guided the other woman out of the lab and towards the cafeteria.

“I’m serious about the bodies!” Alex called after them, chuckling at Kara’s indignation and Lena’s comment on keeping it in mind.

She dove into the research Lena had poured her frustrations and stress into. Her beta friend was a genius in many ways, even if she was bad at taking care of herself. It was a good thing they had Kara to take care of them.

Her mate was no slouch in the intelligence department either, and it was Kara who pointed out the missing link in their formula.

They had new suppressants out within four days.

“If he ever leaves the cell you threw him in, remind me to buy out more of his company,” Lena settled back into her chair in the Danvers’ apartment. She raised her wine glass. “To never having to deal with this kind of mess ever again.”

“Here, here!” Alex raised her beer bottle and clinked it against Lena’s glass.

“To us,” Kara added her can of soda to the toast, “and our ability to thwart megalomaniacs with ideas of grandeur.”

Lena snorted. “Yes, and against a supposed genius who got his grand plan from a Saturday morning cartoon.”

Kara snorted. Lena wasn’t far off the mark. She leaned back further against Alex, allowing the scent of her mate to surround her even as Alex’s free arm came up to wrap around her shoulders to bring her even closer.

Lena smirked at them. “You both won me a lot of money and favors, mating when you did.”

Kara giggled. “That’s what Jess said, also something about a vacation on a private island off the coast somewhere?”

“Consider it my wedding gift,” she told them. “There is a wedding to be had, isn’t there?”

Alex held up her wrist where an amber-colored metal bracelet with the El crest now rested. Kara wore a matching one. “This is good enough for me, although my mother might have an issue of no actual ceremony.”

“We can have one,” Kara set her drink aside so she could stretch out on the couch with her head in Alex’s lap. “But I do agree with Alex on not wanting some large affair.”

“So a judge and a few witnesses,” Lena replied.

Both of her friends laughed at the idea. The marks on their necks and the bracelets on their wrists were more than enough for them.

Still…

“Oh please, you two act as if anyone would actually be surprised.” Lena downed her glass. “J’onn has money on the Wednesday three weeks from now. I only beat him out on this by two days.”

Neither questioned how she knew who had bets when.

“Isn’t it cheating if you share that information?” Kara turned her head to look at her. Alex readjusted her hand so she could continue stroking the blonde’s hair.

“Only if I use it for personal gain.”

“You want to make sure James doesn’t win.” Alex smirked at their friend.

“Perhaps,” she smiled smugly at them. “Did you know that Major Lane and Agent Vasquez are expecting? There’s already a pool going on the sex of the pups.”

“Oh we know,” Alex smiled down at Kara. “They aren’t the only ones.”

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