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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

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HELLO RAY! I have a sorta cute image prompt for you to possibly do? Idk it's cute to me so ima just day it, it's a Sam x Reader. Now they aren't together in it but actually get together in it, so basically we all know Sam has adopted Tommy at this point, but what if the Reader did the same thing *gasp*! Sort like a mother figure? But anyway, it's clear that Sam and the reader like each other but are awkward about it because reasons, so Tommy does as Tommy does and becomes WingmanInnit and attempts to get the two together, with out actually saying to either of them that's what he's doing. Thank you for doing this if you do💙💙💙 have a good day or night, make sure to eat/drink/take your meds, and have a good nap you deserve it!

HELLO FRIEND! I’m so sorry this took so long to write but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! This is a fem! reader because reader is referred to as “a mother figure” but you can honestly just pretend it’s “parental figure” and make it gender neutral!

Honey Barbecue-Awesamedude

You first met Tommy while you were walking the Prime Path back to your home from a trip to gather a specific type of wood. You quite literally crashed into the boy because he was so beaten up and disoriented that he didn’t even notice you and ran right into you. Your hands immediately reach up and grab onto the younger boy’s upper arms to stabilize him. “Tommy?” His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s pretty out of it. “Okay kiddo, let’s get you to my house huh?”

With a little bit of struggle, you manage to get Tommy into your home and into your bed. Once his head hits your pillows, he’s out cold. You carefully clean him up and patch up his wounds before setting a glass of water by his bed and leaving him in the room.

Tommy doesn’t come out of the room until around sundown. He’s yawning, but he looks so confused but when his eyes meet yours, everything seems to come back to him. He gets this really sheepish look on his face and he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey… Sorry about earlier. Thanks for taking care of me.”

You give him a bright smile and nod, “Of course, Tommy. There’s no need to be sorry. It’s something anyone would do. Now come sit down. Dinner is almost ready.” Tommy hesitates for only a moment before seeming to get a whiff of whatever it is you’re cooking and making his way to the table and seating himself.

You force Tommy to stay the night at your house. It was getting really late and you didn’t want to run the risk of him getting into more trouble and hurting himself even further. He left once daybreak came, but that wouldn’t the last time he’d be spending the night at your house.

After that day, you kind of became like a mother figure to Mr. Tommy. You were always there for him and he always had a place in your home. You were one of the only people that was always on Tommy’s side no matter what and was able to remember that he was a liter child that needed to be taken care of. There was only one other person in the entire SMP that looked after Tommy like you did… And Tommy believed that you two would make a perfect couple.

You and Sam were the only ones that looked out for Tommy for no other reason than to look after him. You two had kind of become the young boy’s unofficial parents. Yes, Tommy had his own house, but most nights he could be found in either your’s or Sam’s house.

You and Sam knew each other, of course you knew each other. You two interacted sometimes but most of your conversations were about Tommy. Even with your limited conversations, you both quickly caught feelings for each other. The mutual care over Tommy was something you bonded over as well as, Tommy definitely doesn’t stop talking about you. You both had fallen for each other through your shared love of the boy that you considered your son, but also his words that he spoke about the two of you.

It would have been impossible not to fall in love with him.

However, it almost would be more impossible to tell him that you were in love with him.

And the same goes for him. Sam had feelings for you, but there was no way in hell he would ever tell you that.

This doesn’t make your feelings for each other any less obvious to one Mr. Tommyinnit. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy isn’t stupid. He’s very smart and very observant and he could tell almost instantly that the two of you clicked and that you two had developed feelings for each other. But it was also very obvious that you two knew of your feelings, but refused to acknowledge them.

He was going to fix that.

Sam had informed Tommy that he had made a nice steak dinner for supper that night and that he really would love it to have company over to share it with. Tommy saw this as the perfect opportunity to push you two together. Tommy told you that Sam had invited you two over for dinner that night and you believed him. So you dressed up in a cute outfit and at 10 minutes till, you and Tommy headed over to Sam’s place.

Sam was very surprised to find you standing at his door with Tommy, but it was a very pleasant surprise and one that he welcomed. Sam moved out of the way of the doorway and allowed you inside. You turned back around to face him and Tommy and found an odd sight. Tommy was still standing outside, staring down at his communicator. “Everything alright Tommy?” You ask, a little concerned as to who he was messaging.

Tommy’s head snaps up and meets your eyes, a small smirk forms on his face as he speaks. “Oh yeah. I’m fine… Tubbo not so much. I have to go help him. I don’t know how long it will take. Go ahead and eat without me.”

Not realizing what he was doing, you jumped in, “Oh! Is he okay? Do we need to come help?”

“No, no, no, no. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. You two being there will probably just embarrass him. Seriously, enjoy your time together,” Tommy tells the two of you before turning and running away.

Sam knows what the child had just pulled, you not so much. Sam could only glare after the boy but once he turns around his eyes find your frame, they soften. “Should we follow him? I know he said it’s fine but I don’t want--”

“Y/N. It’s Tommy and Tubbo. They’ll be fine. If not, they have their communicators. But if you want to leave, I would completely under--” “No! No. I want to be here… with you.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before Sam cleared his throat and held out his hand to you. “Well in that case, may I?” You carefully reach your hand out and let him grab it. He gingerly leads you through his house and to his kitchen table where he carefully guides you to sit down in a chair before pushing you in. He walks over to the counter and picks up two plates that he prepared right before the knock on the door and sits one down in front of you before sitting himself down with the other one.

“I hope everything tastes okay. I’m not the best chef but I wanted to do something nice for once,” Sam tells you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your face. Even though he’s not looking at you, you offer him a sweet smile and a laugh.

“I’m sure it will taste great Sam,” you assure the creeper hybrid as you pick up your fork and knife. Sam copies your motions and gives you a big smile and together you begin to dig into the meal.

The food tastes great. Sam really undersold himself, and you were sure to let him know. You complimented his cooking over and over as you two dined and chatted. It was really cute to watch his freckles light up as a form of blush to coat his cheeks under your heavy praise. A lot of the time all he could manage to get out in response was a small “thank you.”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two as you discovered you had a lot more in common than just caring for Tommy. You two talked about what you did for work and what you did for fun. Some of the conversation revolved around Tommy, but not a whole lot. You mostly used your experience with Tommy as a way to jump from on topic to another.

You two continue to talk even after you’re done eating. You help Sam clean up, despite his protests, and you two take a seat on his couch and talk for a while more. You two snap out of your conversation when one of the redstone clocks he’d made chimes loudly letting the two of you know that it was now 10pm (2200). You’re both shocked about how late it had gotten, and although you wanted to keep talking, you knew you should probably get home.

Sam, ever the gentleman, offers to walk you home, and you still wanting to be able to spend a little more time with him, you accept. Together, the two of you walk back to your house. Sam has his sword just in case but no mobs bother you. You two get to your front door sooner than you would have liked. The two of you stop and turn toward each other in front of your door.

“Well… This is me,” you state after a few moments of silence.

“This is you… I had a really nice time tonight Y/N… Would we be able to do this again sometime?”

A wide smile spreads across your face as you nod a little frantically, “Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

There are a few more moments of silence before Sam takes a deep breath and then blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”

You’re surprised at the question, but you find yourself giving him a small nod. Sam seems a little shocked at your answer, but his hand comes up and cups the side of your face and he ever so slowly leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You immediately melt into him, your hands finding their way onto his chest and slowly dragging up onto his shoulders and you pull him a little bit closer to you. His other hand finds itself on your waist, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss.

The kiss ends too soon for your taste, but you also know that if it didn’t end when it did, you’re not sure it would have ever ended. Sam gives you a soft smile after pulling away. He carefully removes his hands from your body, you doing the same.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Sam.”

You stand there, back pressed against your front door, watching after him until he was no longer in your eyesight. You let out a small dreamy sigh before turning around and letting yourself into your own house.

You are immediately startled by the presence of a teenage boy sitting in your kitchen, gorging himself on what looks like some chicken wings. “What the heck are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Tubbo okay?” You ramble out as you rush further into the kitchen, placing yourself between beside him, your eyes scanning over his body, making sure that he’s okay.

Tommy just rolls his eyes and laughs, “Tubbo’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just needed a place to eat my wings. Wings for a wingman. I’d say I’m a pretty successful wingman?”

It was then that it hit you. Tubbo never really needed help with anything. Tommy didn’t leave you two alone to help Tubbo. He had set you up. Tommy had forced you and Sam to be alone together because he knew that this would happen. That the two of you would fall deeper and in turn would admit that you had feelings for one another…. This sneaky, meddling kid.

You wanted to be mad. You really did. But you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at the boy for giving you the opportunity to go out on a date with the man you had been crushing on for many weeks now. So instead of taking the time to scold him, you instead opted to playfully push Tommy’s head before snatching a wing from his plate.

Tommy opened his mouth to complain but fell silent at the sight of your playful glare. “Now, I will be taking this honey barbeque wing and will be heading off to bed. Clean up after yourself and get to sleep soon. Goodnight kiddo.” Tommy gives you a small smile and a nod before wishing you goodnight as well. You turn on your heel and walk out of the room toward your bedroom. But right before you were about to exit, you stop and turn back around.

“Hey Tommy?” You call, drawing his attention to you. You give him a soft smile before raising the wing you had taken from his plate. “Thank you for being our wingman.” And with that you turn on your heel once more and continue on your way to your room. Even though he’s a sneaky, meddling kid, you couldn’t help but be very thankful for the boy that had brought you and Sam close together… You’ll have to make sure he’s the best man at the wedding.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt drabble #mcyt one shot #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude one shot #awesamdude drabble #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit one shot #tommyinnit drabble #ray-ray-writings #honey barbeque #anon #requested

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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years

Note

So at risk of stepping out of line here are some prompts of many genres for you! I dont know if any of these tickle your fancy.

Hange Survives the rumbling

Magic AU (specifically what would they be skilled or not skilled in. I always picture Hange as being good at illusions and Levi being good at combat magic but best at house hold charms for example)

Zombie apocalypse AU (Levi was a little disgruntled at first to have a tag along but warms up to her pretty quickly and mostly against his better judgement. He is forced to concede having someone to watch his back is nice after she saves his life though )

The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange.

Hange and Levi pranking Erwin in increasingly elaborate ways while keeping their identity a secret. As he gets more and more frustrated.

Just straight up angst with a capitol A

Ive honestly thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written and look forward to seeing more. I dont know etiquette for offering prompts and hope I didnt offer too many. I just thought they sounded cool.

I have saved all of these because there are so many good ideas BUT on this occasion I have decided to write the following: The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange. This was also inspired in part by something @glassesandswords said earlier regarding Levihan and ballroom dancing. There is no (real) dancing, but there is a ballroom.....does that count?

They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.

Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.

The ballroom was beautiful.

The carriage pulled up in a stone-paved courtyard outside one of the most extravagant buildings Erwin had ever seen. Much like everything else in Sina, money had been thrown about without restraint, to create halls and mansions and castles each bigger and more gaudy than the last. They functioned almost exclusively as a show of wealth, save for the occasional ball or banquet where the space was welcome, and the rich were more than happy to showcase their spoils.

Tonight, this particular hall had the honour of hosting the Benefactors Ball. It was an opportunity for the military factions to rub shoulders with nobility, and garner themselves some additional funding—politicking disguised as polite conversation over glasses of champagne, each one likely costing more than the monthly budget allocated for the Survey Corps as a whole.

Erwin stepped down from the carriage and took in the space. The building was tall, all white stone and huge, arched windows, polished until they shone, reflecting the evening sky. A wide staircase led to a set of great oak doors, thrown open and exposing a glimpse of the entrance hall within. The interior was full of buildings like this, large enough to hold hundreds, but vacant for most of the year, while the people within Wall Rose lived like cattle, penned into cramped houses with one room for a whole family.

Behind him, the carriage creaked as Levi climbed down. He stopped beside Erwin and stared up at the lavish building with his lip curled, his distaste evident. He made no efforts to hide his disgust at the gaudy display of luxury, and did not bother lowering his voice when he said, "stinks like pig shit. Filthy rich bastards can't pay someone to wipe their asses properly?"

Erwin cleared his throat, swallowing the urge to laugh. He perfectly understood Levi's disdain, for the sentiment was widely shared, both throughout the Corps and much of the land outside of the interior. People lived in poverty, struggling to make ends meet and fighting for rations while the rich ate decadent banquets full of more food than they could ever hope to consume, growing fat and idle in their comfort.

To his left, Mike had alighted from the carriage and was busy straightening his suit. He showed less restraint than Erwin, snorting and garnering some scathing looks from the passing attendees. Erwin fixed his face into a pleasant, appeasing smile, and spoke through the side of his mouth. "Better not to insult our company if you want to eat over the winter."

"We're already eating scraps like dogs," Levi protested with a sharp click of his tongue.

"And you'll be eating less than that if they cut our funding. Behave, please."

Mike shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by Erwin's scolding. Levi shot him a scowl, but did not argue and instead turned to talk over his shoulder, barking out. "Oi, four-eyes. The hell is taking so long?"

There was some shuffling inside the carriage. Erwin could hear Hange grumbling to themself inside it, and then their voice called out, somewhat petulantly, "I feel ridiculous."

"We're running late," Erwin said. "Come on."

Hange swore quietly, then sighed. More shuffling and Erwin heard the carriage stairs creak as Hange climbed their way carefully down them, manoeuvring awkwardly with all the loose fabric around their legs. They stood stiffly beside Levi, adjusting the thin, silk shawl across their shoulders and pulling it over their chest. The neckline of their dress cut too low for their comfort, which Hange had complained about endlessly on the ride here, and the midnight blue fabric fell to brush the tops of their feet, where they had been forced into a pair of flat, thin-soled shoes that were already rubbing the skin of their heels raw.

The dress was very pretty, and in truth, Hange looked very pretty in it, but their discomfort showed painfully in their high, drawn shoulders and slouched posture, curved over themself to make their long, thin frame appear as small as possible.

"I don't see why I couldn't wear a suit like everybody else," Hange said, huffing to blow their fringe out of their face. Nanaba had fixed their hair in a delicate half-up do, a pretty, intricate bun fastened at the back of their head while the rest of their hair fell in loose curls just past their shoulders. Already, they seemed annoyed with it, constantly pushing it away from their face and neck. Mike turned to examine the view and Levi, who had been watching Hange slyly from the corner of his eye, slid his gaze forward and away. Erwin cleared his throat, but made no comment. The organisers had been clear about their dress code requirements—no military decoration, suits for the men and dresses for the women. Hange's military record had decided their fate for the evening, and no amount of arguing or pleading could change that.

After a pregnant pause, Erwin politely held out an arm for Hange, and gave them a somewhat apologetic smile. "Shall we?"

Hange kept their hands to themself. They shook their head and made a vague gesture for Erwin to walk ahead, following closely behind him and Mike, whose combined height and bulk blocked them from view. Erwin felt a little guilty, for forcing Hange to come, and for refusing their multiple requests to dress in something they felt more relaxed in. But Erwin understood well how the benefactors operated, knew that a pretty face in a nice dress had sway where stoic men in suits did not. Hange's frosty attitude towards him was enough to convince him that they understood, too.

The ballroom was beautiful. Long tables lined the walls, piled high with more food than they had ever seen in their lives, steaming joints of meat, fresh and tender, and fish, vegetables steamed or roasted and coated in unfamiliar herbs and spices. The combined smell was mouthwatering. Beside him, Mike breathed long and deep through his nose. There was a huge, open floor in the centre of the room where the attendees were mingling, the men dressed in sharp, well-fitted suits and the women draped in elegant dresses, fine jewelry studding their fingers and wrapping their wrists, pearls and gems hanging from their necks. A great, ornate chandelier hung overhead, lit with what felt like hundreds of candles, the firelight ducking and weaving, shimmering from the hanging crystals and casting pretty, shifting shadows on the floor below. On one wall, huge windows ran from ceiling to floor and displayed a well-groomed garden flushed pink in the setting sun, dotted carefully with trimmed bushes and pruned flowers, a great stone fountain set in the centre,

The four of them stood in a line in the open doorway. Erwin observed quickly, efficiently. Many faces were already blushing a little red, from the heat and their full stomachs and the champagne, ferried around the room by waiters carrying trays, darting about the space with choreographed ease. He spotted a few of the key benefactors, those with the fattest wallets, and took note of the drinks in their hands—tumblers of amber liquid, whiskey or brandy from the bar, or else goblets of deep red wine that stained their lips and teeth. A glass or two more and enough sweet, sickly compliments, and Erwin felt confident they could come to some financial agreements.

He turned to look at the others. Mike's expression was neutral, eyes masked by his long fringe, but his posture was relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Levi's eyes had once again roved to one side, where Hange stood, taking in the room with one arm covering their chest, their nails scratching absently at the skin of their neck. Levi clicked his tongue at them and reached up, flicking their knuckles.

"Stop doing that, idiot," Levi said. "You look diseased."

Hange's neck had indeed turned a deep shade of red where their nails had raked at the skin, swelling in thin, raised welts that threatened to split open with much more abuse. Hange pulled the shawl tighter around themself.

"I have a few people I need to speak to," Erwin said. He shot them each a look in turn. "Mingle, but please, stay out of trouble."

Mike nodded. Levi shrugged a shoulder. Hange glared at him, the candlelight catching and glinting off their glasses. Erwin trusted the group, but not completely. Mike had a penchant for dry sarcasm, and Erwin had observed of late that Hange and Levi could make an explosive pair when left to their own devices, equally as volatile whether they were conspiring together or else at each other's throats. Collateral damage within the Corps was easy enough to iron out—traumatised recruits were simple to deal with. Offended benefactors and interior personnel were a whole other matter. Smoothing out Survey Corps relations with their funding parties was a headache Erwin didn't need, if he could help it.

Hange, though, looked ill-equipped for mischief. Erwin couldn't recall a time he had ever heard them seem quiet, or seen them so tense. Of all the soldiers Erwin had ever known, Hange was the most loose, relaxed, with little regard for military hierarchy, no sense of personal space, and a lack of shame so absolute it bordered on admirable. He had never seen Hange so subdued, before. He might have found the reprieve from their usual exuberance peaceful, if not for the itch of guilt that came with it.

But he didn't have time to dwell on it. There were more important matters to attend to, and Erwin took his leave from the group with a stern nod, leaving to greet Pixis and Nile where they were talking politely with some bloated, red-faced nobles.

The evening passed in endless addresses. Erwin flattered his way around the room, speaking humbly with innumerable men, smiling and taking their backhanded compliments with grace while pushing another drink into their greedy hands.

Over the shoulders of one stout man with yellow teeth and breath like tobacco, Erwin caught sight of Mike, dutifully nodding his head as a gaggle of older women flocked around him. He panned his gaze around, searching for his two missing soldiers, until his eyes landed on Hange where they stood near a corner of the room, engaged in awkward looking conversation with a lanky man who seemed to share Hange's usual sentiments about personal space. He was taller than Hange, but had stooped until their faces were close, and in both of his hands he held one of Hange's, stroking over their knuckles as he talked. Hange had a forced smile on their face, but even from this distance Erwin could see the strain in their neck, the tightness in their face, their free hand white-knuckling a fist full of their dress at their side.

Erwin had known Hange long enough to understand the concentrated effort with which they were holding back. He would have to thank them later, for not causing a scene, but he could have hardly blamed them if they had. As he watched, the man brought one hand up to Hange's hair, following a loose curl from the crown of their head, past their cheek, and to their shoulder, where his fingertips danced lightly at their collar. Hange's face was pale in their anger, and Erwin was mentally preparing the kind of speeches he'd have to give to excuse Hange's indiscretion, when a figure appeared at their side offering a glass of champagne. Erwin's brows rose.

Levi had come out of nowhere. He pressed the glass insistently at Hange, who quickly pulled both of their hands free to take it. Their admirer looked sufficiently displeased by the interruption, straightening to his full height and looking down his nose at Levi. Levi stared back impassively, gaze unwavering as Hange spoke, gesturing towards Levi, and Erwin watched with some smug satisfaction as introductions were made, and the sleazy old man realised exactly who had joined their conversation.

He stuck around for only a moment, before taking his leave. Hange watched him go, then visibly sagged in place, taking a long gulp from the delicate flute and bringing their hand up to their throat. Levi said something that made Hange laugh. Their smile was small and the shake of their shoulders was slight, but it was genuine. Levi slapped weakly at Hange's hand—they had been scratching again, the skin of their neck red and irritated. He took the champagne flute from their hand and drank the rest, depositing the empty glass on a nearby table and pulling a face, running his tongue over his teeth. Hange laughed again, a little brighter this time, some delight reflected in their face as they watched Levi's twisted expression, and when Levi said something that looked suspiciously like piss off, they laughed loud enough that Erwin could just hear it. Levi nudged at Hange's ribs with his elbow and Hange grabbed onto his arm, wriggling away. When Levi stopped his prodding, Hange didn't let go of him. And then the crowd shifted, a throng of men heading towards the bar, obscuring Levi and Hange from his view.

Huh.

That was interesting.

Levi had been with them for just over two years now. He had opened up very little in that time, remained almost as stoic and distant as he had been when he had first been recruited. He spoke little, and what conversation he did make was always rude and often perfunctory, coaxed into short, one-word answers or non-committal grunts. He dealt with Erwin because he had to. He tolerated Mike due to proximity alone—where Erwin went, Mike was never far behind.

His forbearance of Hange was more confusing.

There was no real need for them to spend much time together. Outside of meetings and events like these, compulsory gatherings where Erwin preferred to bring his most trusted subordinates, the pair of them were never required to be in each other's company. He'd had no doubt that Hange would be pushy; they were fascinated by Levi and had been since the beginning, keen to observe as much as they could, to understand and employ whatever technique it was that allowed Levi to move so quickly, to fight so efficiently. He had been unsurprised to see Hange hovering around Levi shortly after their first mission together—"like a fly on horse shit," Levi had said—and it had been no shock to him at all that Levi's dismissal had fallen on deaf ears.

But time had passed, and despite Levi's constant grumbles and complaints, seeing the two of them together had become an increasingly familiar sight.

Things weren't always amiable. There was a lot of bickering, loud disagreements where Hange would whinge and push and prod and Levi's anger would build until he was steaming, and there had on one occasion been a physical fight, the kind of feral scuffling in the dirt usually reserved for children. Erwin had broken that up himself after battling to the centre of a watching crowd, and the pair of them had sat down across from him at his desk, their faces resolutely turned in opposite directions, their hair and clothes coated in dusty, dry soil, with swelling bruises on their cheeks and split skin on their knuckles. They pointed fingers, each laying the blame squarely on the other, and neither had admitted the root cause. Erwin eventually dismissed them with a headache, and demanded that whatever their issue was, they resolve it—civilly. He had wholly expected another scrap, but had been pleasantly surprised at finding the pair of them sitting together in the mess hall that evening—they were arguing about Hange's ludicrous notion to capture a titan when he had passed them, Levi jabbing his fork at Hange's hand when they slyly reached for his bread, but there was a familiar light in Hange's eyes, one that told him this argument, at least for now, was not serious.

Erwin had been pleasantly surprised to see a similar expression reflected on Levi's usually flat, stoic face. He had ripped his bread loaf in two, and dropped half of it silently onto Hange's plate as he told them, "for the last damn time, no."

Levi afforded Hange for more leniency than he did to anybody else. He would pull a face when Hange threw an arm around his shoulder, but he never pushed them away anymore. He'd grumble if Hange dropped next to him on Erwin's sofa and wriggled their does under his thighs for warmth, curse them for putting their dirty feet on the furniture, but it had been a long time now since Levi had knocked their feet back to the floor. He would badger them relentlessly about their greasy hair or the dirt under their nails, and in the same breath he would tug on their ponytail, his fingers sinking easily into the knotted, unkempt hair.

And now, this—Levi barely tolerated using communal utensils, opting often to clean his own cutlery before eating. To drink directly from the same glass as anyone, let alone Hange, who Levi notoriously butted heads with over their personal hygiene, was unimaginable. And yet.

Erwin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, and turned back to his companion, falling easily into conversation once more.

The evening dragged on. The sky outside the great windows was full dark, the stone fountain pale in the moonlight. The water shimmered, dark and spotted with the light from the stars. Erwin's throat was dry and sore from talking, but he felt satisfied—he had secured plenty of meetings to negotiate funding, enough that he wasn't all too worried that they would inevitably lose a few offers when the alcohol wore off.

He found Mike near the bar, finally alone. Erwin crossed to him and greeted him with a nod, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar beside Mike to enjoy it.

"Calling it a success?" Mike asked. Erwin hummed.

"I think so. I'll wait until we are safely back at the barracks before I say for certain."

Mike snorted quietly into his glass. He was sipping from a glass of fragrant whiskey, something deep and smoky. Erwin took another mouthful from his water.

"And you?" Erwin asked. "Would you call it a successful evening?"

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A very lovely lady left me her address. She insisted I write to her."

Erwin's lip quirked. He hid it behind his glass. "Will you?"

Mike shrugged. "Maybe. I figure she might leave me a big fat inheritance if I do."

Erwin chuckled, and looked about the room.

The crowd had thinned some, and those who remained spoke in loud, slurred voices that sounded over the lazy music played by the band. They stood around in small clusters, picking at the plentiful food and chugging down their drinks, bellies swollen behind shirts bursting at the seams. Pigs ready for slaughter, if it weren't for the work of people like them, who put their lives on the line for humanity every time they set foot into titan territory.

Mike elbowed him. Erwin hummed, and Mike nodded his head towards a corner of the room. "How's that for a success?"

Many of the candles in the chandelier had gone out, leaving the room with a smoky haze and the lights lower than before, a warm orange glow that barely reached the corners. Hange had sat themself on the corner of one of the tables, their feet dangling a little way off the floor as they drank from another glass of champagne. Their shawl had been replaced with Levi's jacket, buttoned just over their chest to cover them, and they had kicked off their shoes, bare feet swinging back and forth as they drank. Their hair had been thrown up into its customary ponytail, messy and shaggy at the back of their head. They looked much more like Hange, more relaxed, more comfortable.

Levi stood close beside them, his hip cocked against the table edge, Hange's shawl folded neatly and draped over his arm. The pair of them were talking between themselves, observing the room—Hange kept snickering, and Levi kept hiding his own smile with his champagne glass. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink, noticeable even with the distance. Hange twisted their head to look at Levi, still laughing, and reached up idly to fuss with his hair. Levi continued talking to Hange as though they hadn't touched him, his eyes glued to their face as they broke into a loud, tinkling laugh, the kind that carried like windchimes over the rest of the noise. Levi's eyes were a little wide, brows relaxed out of his customary frown, and his lips were a little parted as he stared openly at Hange.

"You think he knows he looks at Hange like they put the sun in the sky?" Mike said. Erwin laughed and shook his head.

Whatever Hange said next must have been teasing. Their lips spread in a sly smile, showing teeth, and their eyes pinched behind their glasses. They leaned a little further into Levi's space, and Erwin noticed Hange's leg drift sideways, their toes brushing against Levi's calf. Whatever Hange said made Levi grimace, but he put no distance between them. One of his hands settled on Hange's knee as he leaned even closer, and the other came up between their faces to pinch at Hange's nose. He shook their face back and forth until Hange brought their hands up and wrapped them around Levi's wrist. Levi relinquished his hold, and Hange lowered their hands down into their lap, playing with Levi's fingers as they fell back into conversation.

Levi put no distance between them. Erwin and Mike watched the pair of them, watched as Levi swayed even further into Hange's space, his fringe brushing against Hange's brow. Hange was watching him curiously, their head tipped a little to one side—Levi initiating any kind of proximity must have been new, even to Hange, but they didn't seem at all bothered by his closeness.

Mike let out a low whistle. "Little street rat has a soft spot."

Erwin gave Mike a warning look, and Mike raised his hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just surprised to see the captain has feelings, is all."

"It's that hard to believe?" Erwin said. "He cared a lot about his friends, too. He has a heart."

"Somewhere."

Erwin rolled his eyes. Levi and Hange were still standing close, and Levi looked very much like he was debating something in his head. His eyes flicked over Hange's face, and his fingers curled slowly around Hange's, gripping one of their hands in his. Erwin found himself holding his breath, watching them, waiting with a childishly eager anticipation. As their superior, Erwin certainly shouldn't encourage interpersonal relationships between his soldiers—but they were his friends, too. If they could afford themselves a moment of happiness in this hellish world, Erwin wouldn't stop them. Not for one night.

And then Hange's eyes flicked their way. They grinned widely, turning their face and lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically across the room. Unthinking of their attire, Hange bent a knee up and braced one of their heels on the table edge, exposing entirely too much skin to the remaining patrons in the room.

Erwin waved calmly back. Mike raised his glass. Levi stepped out of Hange's space, pausing only to pull a face and silently drape Hange's shawl over their lap, to cover them where the dress had ridden up their leg. He slipped his hand out of Hange's and jammed it instead into his pocket, and shook his fringe over his eyes, looking at Erwin and Mike through it. His scowl was back in place, but the colour in his cheeks had intensified.

Hange spoke to Levi, then hopped off the table grabbed his hand again, turning backwards to keep a hold of his hand as he bunched up their shawl and scooped to pick up Hange's shoes, dangling them from his fingers as Hange dragged him barefoot across the ballroom floor. Levi followed behind, caught helplessly in Hange's wake. In the middle of the floor Hange paused, and turned to him so quickly the hem of their dress rose, twirling around their legs. Whatever they said made Levi shake his head, and then shake it again, more firmly, but Hange laughed that bright, tinkling laughter and held the skirt of their dress in their spare hand, dipping into an exaggerated curtsey. Erwin wasn't sure what had done it, whether it was the alcohol or the jacket covering them up, or perhaps it was simply the presence of good company, but Hange was behaving more like themself again, bubbly and alive, and Levi was as ever their hopeless victim, cringing when Hange spun themself down the length of his arm, paused briefly with their body pressed tight against his chest, and then back out again, teetering on their toes to keep their balance.

They tried valiantly to coax Levi into a few off-beat steps, moving to a rhythm Erwin couldn’t identify. They smile was bright, their face pleasantly read, and they were wholly unbothered by Levi’s lack of commitment. Levi looked at them sternly, but the threat of it was lost in the bright red flush of his cheeks.

"You're no fun, Levi!" They whined, close enough now that Erwin could hear them. Levi clicked his tongue.

"You're acting like an idiot."

"I'm having fun," Hange said, tugging on Levi's hand. "You should try it! You might like it."

"Brat."

Hange grinned as though he had complimented them. Levi's lips twitched, but he held back any urge to smile and curled his lip in a snarl instead, hitting Hange's leg lightly with their shoes and urging them to start walking again. Hange saluted him and together they crossed the rest of the distance and stopped before Erwin and Mike. Hange kept a casual hold on Levi's hand and Levi made no move to part from them, but he glared at Mike and Erwin as though daring them to say something. Mike smirked, and Levi flushed deeper, but his grip tightened around Hange's fingers.

"Are we done?" Hange asked. Erwin nodded. "Good. My feet are killing me—who the hell designed shoes like? And I’m tired of creepy old men—which reminds me,” Hange reached into the top of their dress and pulled out a handful of napkins, which they handed over to Erwin. “These perverts seemed pretty eager to spare a pretty penny for a nice young lady like myself.” Hange pulled a face as they said it. “I can't wait to get this dress off."

Erwin noted with interest the way Levi's eyes slid to Hange, roving down the length of their body and up again.

Mike downed the last of his drink. "Finally," he said, stretching and following as Erwin led them towards the door.

"Tired after wagging your tail for all those grandma's?"

Hange snickered, and Levi's mouth pulled into half a smile. Mike, unaffected by the jab, only grinned.

"Exhausted. What about you, though? Eager to head back and pop some pain killers?"

"Hah?"

Mike's grin widened. He leaned closer to Levi, and Erwin had to strain his ears to hear him.

"I heard being whipped hurts."

This time, Levi did let go of Hange's hand. Quickly.

There was a carriage waiting for them outside. Erwin took the stairs quickly, eager to sit and rest for the duration of the journey back to the barracks. He opened the door and turned, waiting to let the others in, but only Mike was behind him. Levi and Hange were still at the top of the stairs, Hange holding Levi's shoulders for balance as they slipped back into their shoes. Their face was curled in a pained grimace as they descended the stairs and Levi was watching them closely, one of his hands hovering at their back. Mike looked delighted as they approached, and took great pleasure in offering Hange his hand to help them into the carriage before Levi could. He climbed in and sat beside Hange, leaving Levi to take the seat opposite them. Once they were seated, Erwin knocked on the box, and the driver urged the horses on.

Hange sighed loudly. They kicked off their shoes again, and dumped their feet into Levi's lap.

"Oi," Levi said, though there was no malice behind it. Hange wiggled their toes until Levi closed his hand around Hange's foot, thumb digging into the arch with practiced ease. Hange sighed happily and slumped in their seat.

Mike made a show of sniffing the air, and pulled a face. "Smells weird in here."

"Like what?" Hange asked sluggishly. They had let their eyes drift closed as Levi worked absently on their foot, the buzz from the champagne mellowing in the darkness of the cab.

Mike sniffed again. "Horny teenagers."

Levi's ministrations paused briefly, thumb and fingers stilling until Hange made an impatient sound and lifted their foot, shaking it in his face.

"Fuck off," he hissed, but continued. Hange poked out their tongue and gave him a satisfied grin, then rolled their head towards Mike.

"I think your nose is broken," Hange said. "'S probably just my feet."

"They do reek," Levi added. Hange sunk right the way down in their seat and pushed both feet at Levi's face this time, dodging his grabbing hands and wrestling with him when he caught ahold of them, until he slammed both of their feet back into his lap, victorious, and pinned them down by the ankles. Hange's face was a little flushed from the exertion and their laughter was breathless. Levi looked a little triumphant, eyes alight with something like humour.

Levi was having fun.

Erwin tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

"I don't know, Hange," he said, smiling. "I think Mike might be onto something."

#levihan #snk #my writing #ask #thank you for these!!#I am especially intrigued by the magic AU since I have had a similar idea in mind for awhile now #maybe I will finally get around to it hjkh #this was fun but writing erwin is HARD #anyway Levi is whipped what else is new #there are probably many hilarious typos since I wrote this on my phone and am too tired to edit OOPS #anyway please enjoy!!#<3 .

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 3 years

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A/N: This is the first fic of the series. For more info, check this post.

Plot: Wesker is in a relationship with Jill. When he comes home after a long day at work she decides to take care of him.

Type: smut.

Warnings: None.

Wesker was struggling to maintain focus on the report in front of him. It was in vain. The words didn’t make sense anymore, and the more he pushed himself, the more he failed to finish his task. He is so used to his new abilities now, that he has become unaware of his limits. Sure, a normal human being would have broken down much easier, but even he experienced these human limitations. Yet greed pushed him to abuse his new abilities and overlook the signals of his new body reaching its limits, becoming dependent on the serum to abuse his powers further.

The fatigue won and exhausted, he pushed the papers away and leaned back in his chair. His head was about to explode.

“Let’s call this a day.”

He accepted his defeat. He called Excella to organize his office and prepare it for tomorrow. Unfortunately, she was the only one he could trust with such sensitive files, even if she annoyed him deeply. There was another woman whom he trusted more and was much more pleasant company if he could say, but he couldn’t involve her, not anymore. She’s gone through enough and one of her conditions was to be kept away from all of this.

She was still getting the P30, but instead of using the big scarab, Wesker opted for a smaller, more aesthetic attached device. The serum helped her cope with the decision of abandoning Chris and choosing to follow Wesker’s ideals. She wasn’t as intoxicated as she was at the beginning, the dosage insignificant by comparison, but it's enough to help her get over the consequences of her choices.

She was waiting in their room, hoping that tonight she won’t have to sleep alone again. Their place wasn’t anything fancy, just a small studio they both shared inside the huge company building. She was reading something she had stolen from Wesker’s bookshelf. He owned a small collection, mostly filled with some of his favorites gathered over the years. A knock at the door caught her attention, but it was just a servant announcing that he will arrive shortly. She quickly put the book back in its place.

Wesker came in shortly after, seeming more tired than usual, which worried Jill. He gave her a small kiss before collapsing next to her on the couch. While sitting next to him, she tried to carry out a conversation, but he wasn’t listening. Wesker wasn’t sure if he was capable of coherent speech. His attempt to hide his fatigue was in vain, as Jill's sharp attention noticed it straight away- and he kept on complaining about his day.

Jill interrupted him, “Maybe you should take some days off.”

The words echoed loud and clear in his brain, pulling him out of the fog of his mind. He hadn’t taken any days off since STARS.

“I’m fine,” he tried to sound stern.

“No, you’re not,” she said as she started to caress his face, “Besides, it will be good for us too, I really miss you around.”

Wesker turned to face Jill and supported the weight of his head in her palm. The woman had tried to convince him in the past to take some time off from his research. It used to annoy him, but then he realized she was not aware of the great impact this plan will have on the world one day. She was also on that serum.

Worried yet lustful eyes met his tired ones. Jill placed the other hand over his cheek and pulled him closer until their lips met in a kiss. It wasn’t anything bold, just small and shy touches. She knew he was tired and was afraid to push him further.

“I can’t, not tonight.”

The fact that he wasn’t able to carry the act enraged him more. Every impulse he had was toned down by his tiredness.

“You don’t have to always take the lead.” She said, and she was right. The idea of Jill taking care of him rose in his mind, and it also had a great effect on his state. The kisses that followed had an impact on his body as the pressure from his lower belly woke a little. It never occurred to him that Jill could take care of him, and the thought seemed to excite him a bit.

“Let me take care of you just how you used to take care of me," she implored.

His eyes followed Jill as she climbed onto his lap. Her legs slid to either side of his hips, hands reaching to grab the back of the couch and trapping him with her body. The idea never occurred to her before, thus this was making her a little anxious. Albert wasn’t so dazed not to notice, so he took the remote from his pocket and increased her dosage, giving Jill a little boost. The serum flowed through her veins, increasing her desires.

Wesker was watching her with half-opened eyes feeling his cock hardening. His pants became tight and the formed bulge that was more prominent against Jill’s warm core. He removed his gloves and placed his hands over her delicate thighs, urging her to move her body over his already pulsating erection. He was so spent that even a few rubs could get him off. Jill followed his request and moved at the pace he set.

The serum combined with her arousal fogged her judgment. Her only instinct at that moment was based on routine, to follow his lead. Her hands grabbed his shoulders for support as the growing bulge rubbing against her clothed core made her legs weak. She was wearing nothing but a nightgown and some panties.

Jill’s mind eventually cleared and she stopped moving, making Wesker growl in annoyance. In a matter of minutes, just by rubbing onto each other, he felt his orgasm building up.

“What?” He asked, beginning to sound more like himself.

“I got bored.”

Wesker wanted to throw her on her back and put her in her place. How dare she deny him his pleasure. However, he was too tired to make this scenario a reality.

Jill leaned

over to his ear, where she took his lobe between her teeth and nibbled the flesh.

“It’s a shame to waste yourself in your pants, don’t you think?” She whispered while she started slowly rocking her hips again.

Wesker grabbed her thighs once more, this time with a stronger grip that made her flesh turn red. Jill tried her best not to whine, instead, she looked into his now glowing red eyes. He wasn’t pleased, “You won’t get anything if you act bratty.”

And she spread her legs wider so her core could press harder over his bulge. Wesker could feel through the fabric of his pants that she was soaking wet.

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, then maybe we should do something with them,” she suggested.

Maybe the older man was enjoying it as well, judging by the painful erection that never left him. He obeyed the woman’s commands in silence.

Wesker was now staying comfortably on his back with only his shirt removed, his hands tied to the metal headboard of the bed. He was waiting for Jill, who left immediately after she tied him.

“I know that if you want you can break free,” Jill spoke as she finally reappeared. She had left the room to prepare herself but had taken her time to extend his agony.

She let her hair down, just how Wesker likes, and removed her panties, keeping her dress.

“However, I trust that you won’t do anything reckless,” she teased.

“Just hurry up," he sniped back in retaliation.

“It seems your bratty attitude still hasn’t left you. What am I going to do with you," Jill said thoughtfully as she climbed on the bed. Her slender fingers began playing with his clothed cock. She massaged it, ran the hard length between her fingers, pressed on hoping she could get some praise. Then she remembered she was the one who should praise him instead.

“You don’t talk much tonight,” She commented, pulling down his zipper and unbuttoning his pants. His briefs had a wet spot already. She huffed, “Fine, I guess I will have to make you talk.”

Abruptly she grabbed both his briefs and pants to slide them down his hips. His cock sprung free from its clothed cage, hard and with a very reddish head.

Beads of precum were leaking down the shaft, wetting Jill’s fingers as she teased him.

“You’re such a good boy.” She praised, leaning down to give him small licks with the tip of her tongue before taking his tip in her mouth. Her tongue swirled around the red flesh, tasting the salty precum.

“Suck," the word escaped Albert’s mouth.

“What was that?” Jill rose from her position and looked down at Albert, who just whined because of the cold left behind at the loss of contact.

”Acting bratty again?” Jill asked and began to tease his shaft with a finger again, the mix of her saliva and cum providing good lubrication. Her finger slid up and down with ease, traveling from the base of his cock to the tip and back again, occasionally rubbing his little hole. Wesker's attempts to stifle his moans were getting harder, so he let out soft whines while he thrust his hips.

“Giving me the silent treatment already? I guess I should come back when you feel like talking again," she threatened.

“Wait! Don’t go, please…" he relented.

“So you can talk when you want?" Jill mocked, not giving any mercy.

“Y-yes,” Wesker groaned.

Jill smirked, “Will you behave?”

“Yes,” he said between gritted teeth.

She wrapped her lips around his shaft again, pressing a palm over his lower belly to prevent him from moving. She went down slowly, trying to get accustomed to his length and girth.

Wesker's whines increased in volume. When the tip hit the back of her throat, Wesker became more vocal, his moans becoming well defined and echoing in the room. It was too much for him, Jill’s tongue stroking his shaft while she took him whole. Wesker’s shaft began to throb and pulse, coating Jill’s throat in a hot, creamy liquid. When she felt his balls tighten in her palm, she pulled off quickly, hand still on his lower belly.

Wesker sobbed at the feeling of cold air around his shaft. His cock was throbbing so beautifully in the dim light of the room, it was a work of art. A big, lengthy, and girthy cock, twitching like crazy on the verge of orgasm, smeared with cum and still dripping with saliva.

“Why?” he hissed...

“Brats don’t get to cum whenever they want," she scolded.

“Please Jill,” his voice was creaky, and she loved it. She had power over him and that drove her crazy. His cock stopped throbbing and it was time to start the torture again.

Wesker's shaft remained hard as Jill was now rubbing her core over his length. Her folds rubbed along his girth, going all the way from his tip to the base of his cock. A small pool of precum was forming on Wesker's lower belly. The sensation of his veiny, twitching, shaft felt so good between her lips that she was covering the length with her own fluids.

“Jill please,” he asked so nicely, so needy. He was so beautiful like this, all submissive, with his hair out of place and cheeks crimson red.

“Tell me what you need, Albert," Jill prompted.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“I want to be inside you.”

As a reward for his honesty, Jill positioned herself above his aching cock while looking at his ravaged face. She wanted to see every grimace he would make when he entered her. His mouth formed an “O” shape when his tip got past her folds and inside her vagina.

Jill was so fazed that she almost lost herself in the pleasure. His cock fit so well inside of her like it was made for only her. She was getting dizzy and one hint of weakness and he wouldn't hesitate to take control. Still, she appreciated him for not breaking free from his restraints.

Wesker’s girth stretched Jill well, not enough to cause her pain, but she could still feel a faint burn. Even if she was worked up, it was impossible to take him entirely from the start, so she had to take it slow at first.

“I wanna see them.” Wesker pleaded.

She was still wearing the nightgown while riding him. Slowly Jill took both straps and got them over her shoulders. Perky, white breasts bounced free in Wesker’s sight, causing him to start leaking inside Jill. All he wanted was to be able to take those small, pink nipples between his fingers and twist them. Wanted to feel them harden in his hands, but he was bound. He could break free, but the satisfaction of seeing this part of Jill was more important than his inability to reach his peak.

The sight of Jill’s breasts bouncing in front of him, along with her thrusts, was enough to get him off, but he wanted to last for her.

When she took him fully he could feel his orgasm building up again. The wave of arousal hit him once more, harder this time and harder to control. His balls tightened, the pressure from his lower belly was unbearable, and Jill wasn’t making it any easier. Her pussy was tight and warm, wrapping perfectly around his shaft. She bounced up and down, rising to his tip then slamming back down. The head of his cock was hitting her cervix and every intrusion bruised her g spot. She could feel every vein and twitch, and when she felt how thick he was she picked up the pace.

“Jill..”

“I know you can last a few minutes big boy,” It sounded more like a command.

“Big boy”, “good boy”, the endearments stroked something him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t break the cuffs because he was enjoying being praised. Every time Jill called him pet names his cock would twitch and his arousal would burn higher.

Jill was chasing her own pleasure now. If Wesker were to cum, she would have to think of a punishment. To Wesker’s luck, Jill started contracting around his cock and her thrusts were becoming sloppy. He had been on edge for so long, all he could do was groan.

“Cum for me," was the command he desperately waited for. Wesker grabbed the metal bars and almost bent them as he released his shot. Steamy warm hot shots of cum coated Jill’s core while she reached her climax as well.

She collapsed over his chest, body tense with pleasure. When the rush of the orgasm began to fade, he broke the cuffs that were restraining him, his hands finding rest over Jill’s bareback. He embraced her, pulling her as close as he could.

The effects of the P30 serum were fading as well, Jill coming back from the high clouds.

“You were amazing. You were really feeling yourself back there," Wesker said before placing a small kiss on her forehead. His fingers traced Jill’s soft skin, moving her hair to the other side.

“Thank you. I was afraid you would break those cuffs," she admitted and both of them chuckled.

“It was your moment, I didn’t want to ruin it. Besides, I felt good.”

“It showed.” She raised up and placed a small kiss on his lips. “We should do this more often then.”

“We’ll see about that," Wesker smirked.

Jill chuckled before getting up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned.”

• I take commissions. If you like my blog, please visit this post for more info. Thank you!

#resident evil #albert wesker #jill valentine #albert wesker x jill valentine #wesker smut #resident evil smut #Wesker series #albert wesker smut #albert wesker fic

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 34: Using The Following Prompt

Here's the original prompt- I changed it a bit.

"So are you in love with Astoria, then?" Ron asked.

Draco downed a shot of... something. He honestly had no idea what it was. It was strong, whatever it was, and it was getting him drunk and that was enough. He pushed the shot glass away, "Nope," he replied, steadily not looking at his auror partner and gazing aimlessly at the bottles of alcohol lined up behind the bar.

"Then what's going on?" Ron asked, bumping Draco's shoulder with his. "Come on, we've been partners for three years and you've never even sat down for a beer with me this early in the day."

He motioned for the bartender to pour him another shot.

"Seriously. It's okay if you're in love with her, she was your fiance. And a right bint for leaving you for your best mate, if you ask me."

"Honestly," Draco groaned as he took the next proffered shot, "It's not about bloody Astoria. I don't give a flying fuck what she does with her life. I never wanted to marry her anyway." He swallowed the burning liquid and glanced over at Ron, "You know I'm gay, right?"

Ron shrugged, "I had my suspicions, but you were getting married."

"Yes, I'm quite an unsuitable candidate for a straight marriage," he agreed as the bartender poured him another shot and he tossed that one back as well.

"Seriously," Ron said, "You have to slow down or you'll end up at St. Mungo's with alcohol poisoning."

"Do you think Potter would come visit me?" he asked miserably.

"You like Harry?" Ron asked, voice unbearably loud and incredulous.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco shook his head, "Of course I don't. Because that," he said, stabbing at the bar top with his finger for emphasis, "would be ridiculous."

"Right," Ron said. "But for argument's sake what would be ridiculous about it?"

He sighed and traced his finger through the ring left on the top of the bar, "Well, for starters he's the savior of the world and I am a death eater."

"Were a death eater," Ron chided. "Mostly you were just a child, though, and we all know it."

Draco inclined his head, oddly touched by Ron's defense. It had taken them an extraordinarily long time to get here but Ron really was a good friend. "Well he's also so handsome," Draco said, then added, "If you're into the rugged, strong, man bun type of guy. And he's got that constant stubble, imagine how that would feel on your skin," Draco murmured, getting quite lost indeed in imagining that way his stubble would scratch the tender skin of his neck, his belly, his thighs-

"Draco," Ron said, snapping his fingers rudely in front of his face. "Look, you know I love you and you know I love Harry, but I have absolutely no desire to think about whatever it is you're imagining."

"I'm imagining nothing," Draco replied with a sniff, tilting his head up. "I said if you were into that sort of thing."

"Right," Ron said, nodding sagely. "What else would you be into, if you were into Harry?"

"I mean, he has those eyes, doesn't he?" Draco asked. "And he's really sweet and kind, but then once in a while, those eyes get that twinkle of mischief," he sucked in a breath. "Imagine having that mischief aimed at you in the bedroom. You think you're just going in for the usual and suddenly a well placed incarcerous has you tied to the bed, and-"

Ron cleared his throat, "Right, hypothetically speaking of course, are there things you'd like about him other than," he gestured vaguely, "Bedroom related activities?"

"Are you kidding?" Draco asked. "If I liked Harry," he paused, "Potter, that is," he corrected himself, "There are a million things to like. He already makes my tea perfectly," he said, "And he has like a sixth sense for when I'm in need of a good cuppa. He laughs at my jokes and he doesn't mind that I'm a sarcastic, prickly pain in the arse; he actually seems to enjoy it. And he's the type of bloke that would give you his jacket if you were cold."

"That's true," Ron agreed.

Draco nodded, "And he likes to play quidditch and he likes to watch quidditch. He's got decent taste in food; he likes his Indian food too hot though." He sighed, "I mean, what's not to like about him?"

"There are definitely a few things," Ron said. "But, hypothetically speaking of course, if he felt the same about you how would you feel?"

He shook his head, "He doesn't."

"But if he did," Ron pressed.

"I'd say we ought to check to be sure he hasn't been imperiused, or hasn't had a love potions slipped to him, or that he hasn't had a nasty fall and given himself a concussion, or that-"

"Right," Ron interrupted, "But say that all of those things checked out and he felt that way about you, too, how would you feel?"

"Honestly?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, mate."

"Like I'd won the lottery. Like every good thing that has ever happened to me was completely meaningless in the face of this revelation. Like I am the most undeservedly lucky man in the world. And I will never in a million years be good enough for him, but if somehow he wanted me, I would spend the rest of my life trying to be."

"Huh," a voice said behind him. "I would have said pretty much the same thing."

Draco scrunched his eyes shut, "Please tell me that I am experiencing auditory hallucinations."

"Afraid not," that voice replied once more and he was going to kill Ronald Weasley.

"Traitor!" he exclaimed, trying to slap Weasley. "I thought you were my friend!"

"I would have thought the same," Potter said, sliding onto the stool next to him.

"Leave me alone," Draco groaned, dropping his head onto the bar. "Just leave me to die. Bartender," he shouted, waving his arm, "Another shot, please."

He felt a wave of Potter's magic wash over him, feeling the pleasant tingle before the sobering charm crashed over him like a tsunami.

He groaned, "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

"Sorry," Potter replied unrepentantly. "I just don't fancy having this conversation when you're drunk enough to not remember it."

"I hate you," Draco growled, feeling mad and prickly, feeling betrayed and vulnerable. Really this day could not get any worse. "And I hate Weasley."

"That's a pity," Potter said, "because I feel quite the opposite."

"Yes, Weasley is your best friend. He's such a good friend to you, true and loyal-"

"I meant about you," Potter interrupted. "Obviously I love Ron, meddler that he is," he added with a little chuckle, "but I was talking about you."

Draco sat up and stared morosely ahead, "Don't do this, Potter."

"What?" the other man asked in confusion.

"The pity. I know you're feeling sorry for me because my engagement's been broken off, and-"

Before he could finish, Potter stood up and spun him around in his seat until his back was pressed against the bar, then he cupped his cheek and kissed him.

Draco groaned into the kiss because it felt even better than he'd imagined as Harry's stubble rubbed against his chin, his calloused fingertips caressing Draco's cheek before sliding into his hair and re-angling his head so he could delve deeper into his mouth.

He spread his legs, allowing Harry to step closer to him and the hand Harry hadn't threaded through his hair came to rest on Draco's neck, his thumb stroking over his jaw and his throat.

He clenched his fingers in Harry's jacket, tugging him closer, his entire body blazing.

When Harry pulled back, Draco almost tipped out of his seat; he certainly would have fallen if Harry hadn't caught him. "It's not pity," Harry said, his voice seemed to have dropped about an octave and when Draco opened his eyes to meet Harry's gaze he saw his pupils were blown wide. "It's a lot of things, one four-letter-L-word that's not so scary and one that is, but it's not pity."

"Fucking finally," Ron muttered.

"I don't even want to hear it," Harry said, looking over at Ron but not moving even one inch away from Draco. "How many years did I have to watch you and Hermione pine after each other?"

"Right, right. I'll just be," he looked around, "Anywhere that isn't here."

Harry turned his attention back to Draco and Draco realized that he still had his fists clenched in the other man's jacket. "I really like you Draco," Harry murmured.

"I really like you, too," he replied, feeling a bit dazed.

"I'm glad you're not getting married to Astoria."

Draco laughed, "Not as glad as I am."

Harry combed his fingers through Draco's fringe, brushing it back off his face, "Could I take you to dinner sometime?"

"Are you free tonight?"

Harry smiled at him, his bloody adorable dimples revealing themselves, "For you? I'm free anytime. And I promise not to take you for Indian."

Draco groaned and dropped his head forward on Harry's chest, "How much of our conversation did you hear?"

"Came in right around the bit about a well-placed incarcerous," he confessed and Draco could hear him grinning.

"You're not going to let me live it down are you?"

Harry laughed, "No," then he tipped his head down so his lips were pressed against Draco's ear, "Especially since I would be more than glad to tie you up and have you at my mercy. Or vice versa."

"Well," Draco said, his cheeks heating as he leaned back so he could look up at Harry, "My bedroom is only an apparation away."

"Dinner first," Harry insisted, tugging Draco up from the bar stool, "I have a feeling you're going to need your strength," he added with a wink.

Draco followed him out of the pub, feeling for the first time in a long time, that things were starting to look up.

Day 33: Chocolate | Day 35: Tears

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #getting together #pining #Ron's a good friend #idiots in love #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #my writing #day 34 #Thanks so much for the prompt #I hope you enjoy it!

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Stardust - CHANGMIN

So like. This was the first full scenario I wrote for TBZ and I can’t believe I wrote this before actually even STARTING No Air, but whatever! It was cute! I couldn’t help myself but I didn’t want to post this before No Air so that’s why it’s late

Thank you to @deathbykpopboys for helping me put this scenario together! Honestly I don’t think I’d ever write anything without sunny hhhh she’s always so great with ideas <3

Pairing: Changmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, a little angst if you squint, teacher!au

Triggers: alcohol, cursing

Word Count: 2.7k

Changmin sometimes thinks you’re a little too perfect to exist.

TBZ Masterlist | No Air | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

Friday nights are always fun, for Changmin. Friday’s the last day of the work week and kind of blends into the weekend, and because he’s a schoolteacher, he (sort of) gets the weekend off. Sure, he might be making lesson plans or writing reports or doing other important, not fun things, but he also has his stolen moments for dance or shopping or things that he doesn’t have time to do during the week. He’s free, more or less.

The last Friday night of each month, though, Changmin enjoys the most, when he, Jacob, and Kevin meet up for cheap food and drinks. And as much as Changmin likes to wreak havoc on the lives of his fellow teachers (mostly by scaring the wits out of them with dolphin screams and horror movie masks), he really does enjoy their presence in his life and appreciates them for it.

They haven’t a missed a night so far, not since that time Jacob was out with the flu and Kevin had a family emergency. And even though Changmin’s definitely done and said some stupid (read: really embarrassing) things while under the influence, the pros of each night always end up outweighing the cons. So if Changmin wakes up the next morning with a hangover, well, that’s just a side effect of having some fun.

But sometimes he has thoughts. Thoughts that he’s repressed so well he might not even register them, but that exist nonetheless. And Changmin, sadly, is a truthful drunk. His thoughts come spilling out of his mouth, mostly unfiltered, whenever he’s had enough to drink.

And this week, Changmin has been having thoughts. Thoughts that he isn’t sure he wants to spill.

If he drinks, they’ll flood out. It’s the way Changmin works – he’s had enough experiences with alcohol and his brain that he knows what will happen. As he stares at the soju bottle on the table, he knows that if he drinks, he’ll probably regret it in the morning. Not necessarily because he’ll remember what he says – his memory tends to get a bit spotty even after a round of light drinking – but because Kevin definitely will.

Normally, Changmin would praise God for Kevin's ability to remember drunk things. Coupled with his inability to lie, it makes for so much potent blackmail. Sure, Kevin makes Changmin and Jacob swear not to talk about anything he said under the influence, but Changmin isn't an angel the way Jacob is. If it came down to it, he'd sell Kevin's secrets for a single corn chip and some entertainment.

(Okay, not really. But the point still stands.)

If he complained about this to people, they’d probably just laugh and say something about how Kevin is a precious pure meme, that he’d never sell out Changmin’s deepest thoughts for anything. After several years of working with him, though, Changmin knows better.

(He’ll just say that sometimes, Mr. Kev Kev isn't the happy-go-lucky meme-y little boy that everyone likes to make him out to be.)

So maybe Changmin shouldn't be drinking tonight. There isn’t necessarily a lot on his mind, but he’s been thinking of things that he doesn't want spilled just yet, and drinking will only make that possibility a reality.

Isn’t that what alcohol is for, though? To make those worries disappear, if only for a short while? The soju beckons at Changmin, even more so when Kevin actually opens the bottle. Eventually, he throws caution to the wind and fills his own glass.

It’s a clear night, mostly. A bit cloudy, but no sign of rain, and there’s a pleasant little breeze that feels cool against his cheeks. Sitting at one of the small tables outside of the restaurant, Changmin loses himself in the food and the conversation.

After an hour, Jacob decides he needs to leave because he’s supposed to meet with his family the next day and can’t get too plastered. Kevin calls him a noob while making a face, but Jacob, being the angel he is, just pats him on the head on his way out. Privately, Changmin thinks Kevin is much more of a noob than Jacob, but the alcohol hasn’t addled his mind enough to say that out loud just yet.

At some point, though, the world becomes pleasantly muddy. Changmin can register what’s going on at a distant level and he probably shouldn’t drink too much more, but he takes a last shot anyway, just as Kevin asks a slightly slurred “How’s life with Y/N?”

A stupid smile stretches across Changmin’s lips. “Kevin, oh my God, she’s perfect.” He grins, the breeze cool against his flushed cheeks. "She’s so beautiful, it doesn't make sense that we exist in the same world."

Kevin mutters something that sounds like "whipped" and "so soft."

Changmin is sure that if he were sober, he would've attacked his fellow teacher by now, but his tipsy haze is too pleasant to interrupt. He just wants to keep talking. "Kevin," he whines. "Pay attention."

"Okay." Face flushed, Kevin puts his chin on his fist. "'M listening."

"Y/N’s so beautiful." Dimly, Changmin is aware that he's just repeating himself, but he can't help it. The point needs emphasis. "Kevin, she’s so amazing. So much more amazing than me. So smart. Did you know Y/N knows like ten programming languages?"

Tipsily, Kevin shakes his head. "What... what's a program."

"Computer shit." Changmin plays idly with his shot glass. "Doesn't matter. So smart, so nice, so... lovely, Kevin. Y/N’s good at everything. She cuts fruit for me when I work late and make me go to sleep. She doesn’t know anything about dance and tries to help anyway. She works so hard and never takes anyone’s shit and she always knows when I need time alone or when I need comfort.” His mouth draws down into a slight frown. “She’s like... she’s like..."

Why is it so hard to come up with something to explain you? Your entire existence defies definition. How can he even find something comparable to the way you sparkle in his eyes?

Ignoring Kevin’s gaze trained on him, Changmin slumps over the table, eyes gazing out at the dark night. A few stars manage to glitter past the clouds and the piercing lights of the Seoul skyline.

Stars. Something tugs at the back of Changmin’s brain. Stars. Sparkly.

An image of your smile pops, unbidden, in his mind. Your bright eyes glimmer. Like stars.

Oh.

Stardust.

Yes, stardust.

You're like stardust, warm and gentle and... magical. Magical to the touch.

"She’s like." Changmin hiccups. "She’s like stardust, Kevin. Stardust. Perfect. Warm.”

A tear trickles down Kevin's cheek. Changmin has exactly two seconds to ready himself in his drunken haze before Kevin launches himself at his purple hoodie, loosely grasping at the soft cloth as he fully encases Changmin within his arms. "Ji Changmin," he sobs, muffled, "that is the most adorable thing I've ever heard you say."

Even sober, Changmin doesn't think he'd know what to say in response to that, so he just stays silent. It's not like Kevin would even hear him over the sound of his overemotional crying.

Anyway, Kevin's hug feels nice. Warm. Changmin doesn't think he needs to speak words at the moment, he's too comfortable. It's not the same as being in your arms, but he'll settle for it now. He burrows a little deeper into his friend's hold.

“You little child, you,” Kevin sobs into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet and small and warm, I can’t believe you exist.”

Changmin doesn’t feel like replying. There’s a bubble of something growing in his chest that he can’t entirely decipher right now, and his brain has focused on that. It’s some sort of emotion, he thinks. It doesn’t feel very pleasant.

His head gets pulled out of Kevin’s arms. He whines a little, annoyed by the lack of warmth, but he doesn’t really have the presence of mind to do anything but sit there limply as Kevin starts shaking him back and forth, still wailing about how “adorable his little Ji Changminnie is.”

The bubble keeps growing as Kevin keeps shaking him. It doesn’t feel like vomit – Changmin knows that sensation a bit too well – but it makes him feel a little sick. A little upset. The bubble feels suffocating, cold, but it also burns.

Not vomit. He doesn’t feel nauseous. But still unpleasant.

Kevin goes back to hugging Changmin into his chest, which soothes the bubble a little bit. The soft warmth of Kevin’s sweater smooths the burning and takes away the edge of the cold. But the bubble still stays as Changmin rocks back and forth in his friend’s hold, blankly trying to decipher the stupid emotion growing in his heart.

“There’s a bubble.” The words slip out of his mouth just past Kevin’s ear. “There’s a bubble in my chest.”

“Bubble?” Kevin pulls back slightly, flushed face confused. “What bubble?”

Changmin vaguely gestures at his chest as best he can with Kevin’s arms partially trapping his hands. “Here. Doesn’t feel good.”

Kevin’s eyes squint. “Need to vomit?”

“Nooooo,” Changmin whines. “Kevin, it’s a bubble.” He pauses. “Think it’s an emotion.”

He hears Kevin suck in a breath. “I can’t believe my precious little Scorpio child is finally feeling emotions,” the older boy says in a stage whisper, loud enough for at least the next two tables to hear. Changmin has enough presence of mind to slap him. “Hey!”

“It hurts.” Changmin’s lips pout deeper. “I don’t like it.”

“Aww, no, baby.” Kevin pats his head – a little too hard, but Changmin can deal with that. “Why does it hurt? What emotion is it?”

Changmin racks his brains for the word. It’s not a good feeling, so he tries to eliminate the good words as they pass through his mind. Not pleasant. Definitely not happy. Not calm, either.

Sadness? Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not specific enough. Anger? Not really.

Fear?

Changmin isn’t scared of many things. He loves horror movies and thinks possessed dolls are cute, and it’s hard for anyone to really startle him. Fear is not an emotion that regularly appears in his repertoire.

But this time…

“I’m scared.” The two words slip out of his mouth, quiet, lonely. “’M scared, Kevin.”

Kevin pulls back again. “Changmin, you’re never scared.”

“I am now.” He purses his lips petulantly.

“Why?”

Unconsciously, the corners of his lips turn down even further into a blank pout. "Sometimes I think Y/N’s gonna leave. Slip through my fingers."

Even tipsy, Changmin can tell there are more tears welling up in Kevin's eyes. "But… you love each other?"

"Y/N’s stardust." Changmin's pout deepens. "Too perfect. She’s gonna realize that, that I'm not... I'm not good enough but she’s too nice to say that so she’ll just slip away." He hiccups again, feeling his cheeks burn with drink, fluttering his fingers loosely to make sure Kevin gets the point. "Like stardust."

Kevin remains silent for one, two, three seconds. Changmin takes that time to drain the last little bit of soju left in his cup.

Then Kevin nearly knocks the cup out of his hand when he literally grabs Changmin and forces him to curl up into his sweater, nose buried in the soft folds of cloth. “You beautiful, pure little child, you,” he coos, patting Changmin’s head (still a little too hard, but Changmin really doesn’t feel the need to deal with it right now). “You small little child. You poor, small child. Y/N is so in love with you, there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”

“Stardust,” Changmin reminds Kevin, words muffled into his sweater.

“Stardust,” Kevin agrees. “But good stardust. Gonna stay with you. Never going to leave.”

Changmin doesn’t remember much of what happens after that. He knows that they eventually pay for everything and Kevin’s partner picks them up (well, they were the one who was supposed to pick the two of them up. He doesn’t actually register the driver’s face, but Changmin hears Kevin calling them “love muffin, better than Beyonce,” so it’s probably them. He refuses to acknowledge any alternatives), but he’s too drunk and too tired to process anything else.

Somehow, he wakes up the next day curled up in his bed, forehead threatening to split from the dull pain. Mentally, he thanks himself for closing the shades before he passed out last night (or was it morning? He isn’t completely sure when he got home) so that the sunlight isn’t adding to his headache.

Get up, Changmin, he tells himself, summoning the strength to swing his legs out of bed. Step by step, he exits his room and slowly brushes his teeth before heading toward the kitchen for a bottle of water or something to get rid of the pounding in his head.

Changmin’s so out of it that he doesn’t register the smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen before he’s almost in it. He finally stops, confused, just in time to see your head poke out from the kitchen entrance.

For a second, Changmin just stares at you, brain buffering as he tries to come up with a suitable greeting in his hungover state. There’s this look on your face that Changmin’s muddled mind can’t seem to decipher.

Oh, God.

You look like you’re about to cry.

He panics. What did he do wrong? Did he say something bad last night? He can’t remember anything – how badly did he screw up, what the hell did he do –

Then you leap at him, much the same way Kevin did last night, and bury your face into his shoulder.

“Ji Changmin,” you say, words muffled into his rumpled shirt, “I love you so much.”

Changmin’s mouth can only come up with a confused “huh?”

You pull back, eyes shining with tears, but mouth stretched into a beautiful, beautiful smile. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember what you told Kevin last night,” you say teasingly, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your gaze.

Slowly, slowly, the events of last night begin to piece themselves together in Changmin’s brain. Every single stupid word he said to Kevin in his drunken stupor comes flooding back in one massive, jumbled mess.

He blushes.

“Ji Changmin.” You cup his puffy, red cheeks between your hands, voice trembling. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to slip through your fingers and, fucking, I don’t know, fly away. Because I am not perfect, I am not stardust, but god, I – you’re perfect for me. You are good enough for me, more than good enough for me. You are perfect, and I’m staying here forever. You’re not going to be able to get rid of me. Understood?”

“But –”

“Understood?”

Changmin stares into your shining eyes. Even with you standing right here, hands cradling his face with the gentlest touch, he can’t quite believe you’re real and not just some beautiful figment of his imagination. Slowly, slowly, one of his hands rises to touch the fingers resting against his cheek. Just to make sure this isn’t a dream.

Solid. Warm.

Not a dream.

This is real.

He nods dumbly, a stupid smile spreading across his face. “Okay.”

You crush him close again and this time, Changmin’s arms automatically move to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He can feel a few tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you hold him tight, so tight, and he smiles, one hand coming up to pat your back.

You’re here. You’re here, alive, solid, real. He can feel your warmth against his body, feel your hair tickling his skin.

You may be ethereal. You may be something completely out of this world, beautiful, divine. You may be sparkling, glimmering, brilliant in the morning sunlight. You may be made of stardust, something too perfect (he’ll fight you on that) to exist on earth.

But now, with you wrapped warmly in his arms, Changmin realizes that even though you may be stardust, that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.

A tear slips out of his eye as he smiles.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 cheek pinch for changmin idk why I just think that’d be fun <3)

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one-boring-person · 4 years

Text

Can You Do Me A Favour?

Barney Ross (The Expendables) x reader

Warnings: injury, drinking, sexual content implied, mentions of violence, swearing

Context: the reader is a member of the Expendables and has a crush on Barney. After a job, the two have some time together.

A/N: as promised, here is some Expendables stuff! I hope anyone who reads this will enjoy it! (Just a heads up: I have more Rambo and Escape Plan stuff coming, and most likely some more TLB content, too.)

Masterlist

(I'm also going to tag @yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in this, because they expressed interest in Expendables stuff earlier😊💛)

The cold water is pleasant on my heated skin as I cup my hands under the steady stream flowing from the tap, splashing it into my face when a suitable pool has formed in the space. A gasp escapes me from the stark contrast in temperatures, using my fingers to rub slightly at my skin, trying to work out the headache that has set in, only to hiss when I accidentally press into one of the new scars on the side of my face. Pulling back, I repeat my action, doing my best to distract myself from the plaguing thoughts in my head, still disgusted at myself for having them.

But even now, as I massage the contours of my face, I can't get the images of my boss out of my head. Not the sight of him taking out a ring of attackers using his revolver and sharpshooting skills, not the way his exposed arm muscles flexed with each movement, not the determined look on his rugged face and certainly not the fierce eye contact he made with me when he turned around again. At the mere memory of this, a flush of heat goes through me, eyes squeezing shut to force myself to blank them out, not quite realising that his stare is branded into my subconscious. Biting my lip, I shake my head, forcing down the picture of his muscular body and large hands on my body as he dragged me from the collapsing building, not five hours ago.

Growling, I reach over and grab hold of the beer bottle nearby, glancing at my haggard features in the mirror before taking a deep drink, wincing at the stale flavour, having had the drink for far too long. I can see the tension in my body, each muscle tight and uncomfortable, my posture ramrod straight and clearly wrong, my eyes clouded with exhaustion and what I can only assume is loneliness.

As soon as I'd gotten in from the last job, I'd headed straight into the bathroom, grabbing a beer from the fridge as I went, needing to clear my head. Nothing I did could help, my head always circling back to that one person. Frustrated, I slam the bottle on the counter top, wincing when it shatters from the force, a particularly sharp shard slicing into my palm.

Damn him. Damn Barney Ross for getting into my head.

I clean up my hand, just bandaging it up when my phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. Frowning, I look over at it, confused. Nobody calls me. Nobody, except my boss.

Picking up the phone, I groan to myself as I realise it is, in fact, Barney. For a second, I debate letting it go to voicemail, before I finally give in, accepting the call and placing the phone to my ear.

"Sir?" I greet him politely, wondering what he needs.

"How many times have I told you not to call me "sir"?" Barney's gravelly voice sounds through the phone, a low chuckle evident in his tone. I have to ignore the effect his voice has on me, the sound giving me butterflies in my stomach.

"Sorry, sir- ah, shit." I sigh at my own habit, "You alright?"

"Yeah, guess so. Just lonely. Figured you might be, too." He admits, tone going soft as he speaks.

"Bold of you to assume that." I tease, but continue, "Though you are, as always, right."

"Should tell Christmas that, might listen to you." The veteran laughs again, the joke drawing a similar reaction from me.

"We all know he listens to no one but himself." I quip back, still waiting for him to tell me why exactly he called.

"True, true." Barney's grin is almost audible, my mind instantly bringing up an image of that particular expression into my head, much to my chagrin, "You got any plans for tonight?"

Surprised, I take a second to reply, unsure of where this is going.

"No, it's too late. Ain't really got many friends outside work, anyway." I inform him, going out of the bathroom and into the lounge.

"Fancy coming over? I've got a couple of beers that need drinking, and the hangar is pretty lonely this time of night."

His offer stumps me for a moment, though I am quick to recover, my mouth working before my mind can catch up.

"Yeah sure. I'll be over in twenty."

"Great. See you then." He hangs up, leaving me wondering why the hell I accepted that, knowing how much I spend too much time thinking about him (in totally inappropriate ways considering he's my boss) anyway.

Annoyed at myself, I steel myself before going and grabbing a coat, pulling on that and my boots as I leave the flat, taking my motorcycle keys with me. I lock my door behind me, leaving the apartment block quickly, glad to have the fresh air on my face as I make my way over to my motorbike. Looking on it fondly, I climb on and kick out the stand, easily getting it revved up, the vibrating engine beneath me a pleasant feeling.

Thankfully, the roads are mostly clear this time of night, cutting the twenty minute drive short by five minutes as I go at speed through the nearly deserted outer city. The hangar is usually a pain in the ass to get to, the traffic in the roads leading up to it almost always horrific, so I am only too happy to be able to go much faster now that there's not many other drivers around. With the wind rushing around me, I find that my head clears a little, my attention on navigating the roads rather than the thoughts of my boss doing things to me I'm sure he'd find grotesque in nature.

I arrive quickly, pulling into the hangar slowly, knowing Barney is most likely in the plane, as he usually is. Stopping the bike, I put it in park before climbing off, hanging my helmet on the handlebars as I do so, taking the keys with me as I walk over to the old plane. Nearing the aircraft, I frown a little at the sight of the new bullet holes riddling the side of it, unaware that we'd taken so much damage earlier in the day. Sighing, I go inside, ducking in through the small door, only now hearing the music playing from the stereo in the cockpit.

"It's gonna need a new lick of paint." I call out to Barney, who I can see sat in his seat, the muscular man turning to look at me as he hears me.

"It's been a long time coming, so I'm not complaining." He replies, grinning at me as I walk into the cockpit, dropping into Christmas' usual seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach from his stare on me again. As I enter, he rakes his eyes over my body, subtly taking my every curve in from where he is.

"Fair enough." I shrug, leaning back slightly, having missed his look, "Got a beer?"

"Yeah, here." Barney hands me a bottle, opening it for me as he does so.

"Cheers." I thank him, taking a deep drink from it as he chuckles lowly, voice sending a bolt of heat through me.

"You're starting to sound like Lee." He remarks, sipping his own bottle with a smirk.

"Should I take that as a compliment? Or an insult?"

"Up to you." He looks over at me.

"Eh, I'll take compliment. You two get along like an old married couple, after all. Must mean something if you're comparing me to him." I decide, teasing him.

Barney laughs at my comment, lifting his bottle.

"I can agree with that." He hums, staring out of the front window.

For a couple of moments, we sit in companionable silence, drinking our beers, Barney eventually lighting a cigar. Taking a deep inhale, he offers it to me, which I decline, choosing to finish my drink instead.

"What do you usually do after a job?" Barney suddenly asks, glancing back at me.

Surprised, I think over the question for a second.

"Nothing, really. I get myself cleaned up, have a drink, then get some sleep. I don't do much else with my life." I tell him, knowing how pathetic I sound.

"What, you haven't got anyone you can hang out with?" He questions, seemingly confused.

"No. As I said before, I don't really have any friends outside work."

"Really? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

I shake my head, grimacing at the turn in conversation, just missing the slight darkening in his eyes as he looks me over once more.

"Huh. That surprises me."

Lifting an eyebrow, I look across at him.

"Why?"

He shrugs, making eye contact with me.

"Well, you seem like the person who wouldn't struggle to make friends. You're kind, funny, pretty. You know how to behave in the right situations, you're a good friend to have." He clarifies, seemingly unaware of the impact his words have on me, my heart throbbing as I listen to him, longing building up in me again.

"You think so?" I ask, not quite believing him.

"Yeah, I do." He frowns, looking over at me, "Why, don't you?"

I don't reply, knowing my answer well. He doesn't push it, observing me carefully, his gaze making me blush furiously.

"What'd you do to your hand?" The veteran suddenly asks, gesturing to my bandaged appendage.

"Hm? Oh, I just cut it on some glass back home." I inform him, flexing my hand a little, only to wince at the sharp spike of pain.

Wordlessly, Barney reaches across and takes my hand in his, his touch setting off sparks through me despite the gentle nature of it. Pulling my arm closer to him, he runs his fingers lightly over my skin, the rough calluses rubbing over the palm of my hand, each stroke making it harder for me to fight off the rising need within me. Being this close to him, able to smell him in nearly every surface around me, feeling his hand on mine has sparked the feelings I've been suppressing as long as I've worked with him.

Awkwardly, I pull away, swallowing tightly, trying to suppress the urges I'm suddenly feeling, needing to get myself together again. He doesn't stop me, his dark eyes regarding me quietly, observant as always as he seemingly considers something, his gaze sliding over me once more. After a moment, he puts out his cigar, leaning back in his seat.

"Mind doing me a favour?" The muscular man cocks his head at me, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"Er, sure? What do you need?" I agree hesitantly, knowing that expression means only one thing: he's got something up his sleeve.

"Check that control panel up there, would you? It's been giving me trouble for weeks." Barney's eyes are glittering now in the dim light, clearly up to something.

"What, now?" I frown, confused by the instruction.

"If you wouldn't mind."

Lifting an eyebrow, I place my beer down and get to my feet, awkwardly reaching up to check the panel, which just so happens to be right above his head. I try to keep my body from leaning across him too much, but this is made difficult when I realise that the particular problem lies in the switches even further over. As I go to flick them, a pair of hands takes hold of my waist, suddenly yanking me down towards the chair.

Yelping in surprise, I feel my eyes widen as Barney pulls me down onto his lap, hands tight on my hips, pressing my back flush against his chest. His nose instantly finds my neck, the older man nudging at my skin until I tilt my head to give him access, goosebumps spreading across my skin as I try to process what the hell is happening, my brain short-circuiting with every one of his breaths. They fan out over the sensitive area, my own hitching in my throat as his scruff scratches over my skin, his lips not quite touching me yet, though I can feel their every movement.

I try to get back up, unwillingly, only for him to loop one of his arms around my front and slip his hand under my shirt, flattening his palm on my stomach to hold me against him.

"I'm not blind, you know, (Y/n). I've seen the way you look at me, the way you behave differently when you're with me. You're not as subtle as you hope." Barney practically purrs into my skin, his smirk obvious against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as I try not to groan.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about, sir." I manage out, not quite catching the sound of anticipation that escapes me when he suddenly presses his lips against my ear, whispering into it.

"Really? I think you know very well what I'm talking about." He grins to himself, the hand on my stomach running down to ghost over the waistband of my jeans, my body tensing in his grip, "Want me to demonstrate for you?

#the expendables #The expendables imagine #Barney Ross #Barney Ross x reader #Barney Ross imagine #Sylvester Stallone

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mooniefics · 4 years

Text

— first impressions

pairing : zeke jaeger / fem reader / reiner braun

word count : 7.5k

tags : sorta fluff (i can’t help myself i love reiner), eventual smut, threesome (f/m/m), situational humiliation, one night stand, spitroasting, drunk + unsafe sex

warnings : nsfw, mild sexual coercion

summary : a chance meeting between you and reiner leaves you enjoying an evening with the warriors upon their much anticipated return from the war. but doing your new friends a favor leads to a night you'll never forget.

— originally posted 12 / 22 / 20 on ao3 —

"reiner! is that really you?!"

you stood quickly from your place at the booth, unable to stop yourself from scrambling up to the small group of soldiers, who were all looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and amusment.

"you didn't tell us you had a girlfriend back home, braun." the dark-haired woman to his right teased, earning a crossed frown from your friend.

"not my girlfriend." he muttered, ignoring their chuckles as he turned his attention back to you, "i haven't changed that much in a few months, have i?"

you sighed, a relieved grin breaking out across your face as he opened his arms to you, gratefully accepting his invitation and squeezing him tight, face pressing into his shoulder. the scent of gunpowder that usually clung to him in his uniform was absent on his civilian clothes, replaced instead with the pleasant smell of fresh linen. "a few months? felt more like a whole year to me."

you stayed cognizant of the people behind him, now exchanging curious glances at the sight of their comrade's affection, the woman who'd initially teased him whispering something to the stern looking man by her side that made his expression crack into a small grin. he pulled away from you after a moment, a soft smile warming his usually sullen features, which dampened at a hand being placed on his shoulder.

"would you care to introduce us, reiner?" a low voice asked, the speaker stepping to reiner's side to get a good look at you.

you instantly recognized the man, face flushing with embarrassment as you scrambled to find your words. "c-captain jaeger! i apologize for interrupting your evening, p-please forgive-"

"nonsense." he said, holding out his hand for you to shake, "and no need for the formalities, feel free to call me zeke."

you clasped your hands gratefully around his, shaking vibrantly much to his amusement. you exchanged names with the remaining three, the tired looking but jovial woman, pieck, insisting that you join them on their night out. seeing as you had already planned to be at the old bar for the rest of the night by yourself, you had no qualms with inviting them all to fill the remaining seats of the booth you'd been occupying before they entered.

"pock here isn't much of a talker," she said after everyone got themselves situated, poking the cheek of the man she'd been whispering to earlier, "he's a little shy, but don't hold it against him."

"i thought i told you not to call me that.." he grumbled in reply, smacking away her hand and earning a small round of laughter from everyone at the table. the freshest face among them, colt, flagged down the barmaiden that was milling about the tavern floor, ordering a beer for everyone at the table with a kind smile.

"this'll be the only one for me tonight." you told him across the table after the woman had sauntered away, "i kinda didn't budget to be drinking more than one beer tonight anyways.."

"don't worry about it." you turned at reiner's voice beside you, gaze flitting down to see him thumbing through the bills in his wallet, "i'll pay for you tonight. my treat."

"nice to see that you know how to treat a lady." zeke quipped with a grin from his place on your left, earning another unreadable frown from reiner, but you could see the flush creeping up on his cheeks as a result of the implication.

before he could dismiss his friend, the barmaiden had returned, toting six mugs filled to the brim with beer on her serving platter. everyone murmured their thanks as she passed them around the table, her eyes lingered on colt before she slipped away to attend to another awaiting party.

"look at you, colt! haven't even been here for thirty minutes and you've already got the ladies swooning." pieck drawled, taking a long sip from her mug with a smile on her lips as she watched the young man stammer out an excuse.

you couldn't help but laugh along at the display, taking a generous drink of your own as you watched the conversation pick up around you. pieck seemed to be more than comfortable with everyone at the table, fueling the majority of the discussion with her playful words. porco, as she'd said, didn't seem to be much of a talker, but nodded along to what the others said, contributing a brief input when he saw fit and staying silent for the rest of the time. colt wasn't naive, but he was easy to tease, the perfect target for little jabs here and there from around the table that drew irritated, flustered protests from him and made everyone laugh.

the dynamic that had intrigued you the most was that between zeke and reiner. they didn't speak directly to the other often, mostly relaying remarks through their responses to the others, but when they did, there seemed to be an odd sort of tension between them. not exactly rivals, but not exactly friends either. they were on the same team, but there was a clear disconnect between them despite that. you felt every slight shift that reiner made when zeke addressed him, debating on whether you should request to move from your place between them for your sake or stay as a buffer for reiner's.

everyone was on their third glass—the only exception being reiner, who was nearly through his fourth—definitely loosened up though not quite drunk yet, but before you could put much thought into how you'd go about doing that, porco spoke to you for the first time. "so, how do you even know reiner?"

"oh! i'd also like to know too!" pieck piped up between sips, downing the rest of her mug in one go and resting her chin in her hands. everyone's attention had turned to you in an instant, intently waiting for your response, making your posture stiffen as you twisted your hands in your lap.

"well, it was a few years ago, when the war with the mid-east had just started ramping up." you began, tensing up the slightest bit when you felt your hand brush reiner's under the table, "i was working at the produce shop down on kaiser lane, and one day reiner came by with his mother on one of her grocery visits, she had always spoken to me about him when i was counting up her total. i asked her if this was son she was always talking about, and she said yes and introduced us. reiner looked tired," pieck giggled at that. "so i tried to hurry it up a little for his sake, and then she paid and they both went on their way. later that day i came here, and i saw him sitting alone at the counter, so i decided to sit down next to him and see if he could put up with my insufferable small talk for a little while. we ended up talking all night, and we've been great friends since then."

"well, isn't that the sweetest thing," pieck smiled warmly at you from across the table, balancing her head on one hand so could pensively drum her fingers across the wood, "if i didn't know any better, i'd say you two made a lovely couple!"

"pieck, would you stop bothering reiner." porco chided, waving a hand at your friend, "just look at him, he looks like he's one more girlfriend comment away from popping a blood vessel."

reiner grumbled out a low 'fuck you', gulping down the rest of his beer and flagging down the barmaiden as the rest of the warriors shared a hearty laugh at his expense. you yourself were similarly blushing at their constant assertions of something more between the two of you. it's not as if you hadn't mulled the idea over in your head many times before on all the previous outings you'd been on together, and the few times the two of you had gotten drunk enough to fool around a bit before one of you came to your senses and excused yourself for the night.

there were some days where you were glad you kept a modest distance between yourselves, and there were others where you wanted to do nothing more than throw all caution to the window and just enjoy one irresponsible night of doing whatever came to mind, no doubts or worries or responsibilities to get in the way, politics and the war be damned. you started to shake away those unnecessary thoughts, but zeke did a much better job of distracting you when his arm fell around your shoulders, giving you a friendly squeeze as he spoke.

"i see that even in good company, my colleagues' manners still aren't up to par," he said, directing his words at you but talking loud enough for anyone to hear, "allow me to apologize on their behalf."

"oh hush, zeke, you're the worst out of all of us!" pieck argued through her laughter, playfully kicking his shin under the table, "you're only playing nice because she's here."

her words didn't draw his attention away from your face, gleaming grey eyes intently drinking in the emotions passing over your flushed features. you laughed nervously, turning away to face the rest of the table, sneaking a glance at reiner as the barmaiden swept by to clean up the empty glasses and replace them with filled mugs. he had an irritated frown drawn across his lips, worry lines creasing his face as he gulped down half of his mug in seconds.

"look's like you're finally not the one overdoing it, huh colt?" you heard pieck whisper into the young man's ear, snickering at him when he turned away from her and huffed.

just glancing around at them all made you forget that everyone of them were living on borrowed time, that in less than a month they would most likely be shipped out on their next assignment to defend marley against any one of the neighboring nations that were just waiting to pounce at the slightest slip up. aside from reiner, they all seemed to be forgetting that fact as well in favor of just enjoying this night while it was still young.

another banter-filled hour passed, your table not noticing how the bar had been steadily emptying as closing time drew near. zeke had kept his grasp around you for the entire time, much to reiner's dismay, which was evident on his face each time you tried to coax him back into the conversation, always faltering each time zeke peered over you to repeat your question to him with a thinly veiled haughtiness. reiner had gone through more beer than anyone at the table, his flushed face and low-lidded gaze along with his slurring words letting you know just how drunk he'd really become. but aside from his borderline unpleasant exchanges with your friend, zeke was incredibly charismatic, almost overbearingly so, your own intoxication making it easy for you give in to his infectious energy and laugh along with him and everyone else at the table.

sure, you were worried about reiner, but he knew that you would always be friends at the end of the day, and you had to make a good impression on these newly introduced people who were so kind as to invite you in on one of their rare leisurely getaways from the military barracks. so you let yourself lean into zeke's side, relishing in the warmth that you'd been craving for so long—a warmth that the alcohol only made you want more and more—the break in your routine that you'd been searching for in an evening alone turning into a night that you were sure you wouldn't forget for a long time. they didn't even seem to care that you weren't an honorary marleyan, or even that you were a lowly blue-collar worker that made a measly sum at her meaningless job on a forgettable street corner.

but alas, the blissfully ignorant fun of the table's atmosphere was dampened by the arrival of the barmaiden with your table's tab, setting it down in front of colt with a coy smile as she gathered up the rest of your empty glasses and disappeared into the back of the tavern.

"aw colt, you never made your move!" pieck chided, giggling as she dug into the pocket of her skirt to reach for her wallet just as everyone else around the table was doing.

"reiner.. are you okay?" you gently nudged his arm, looking over with concern at the sight of him. his elbow was propped on the table, forehead resting in the heel of his palm as he stared down at his lap, mouth drawn into a slight frown.

"shit, he's loaded." porco commented snarkily.

"we can't let magath see him like this!" colt said nervously, looking around at his colleagues, waiting for one of them to come up with a plan to deal with this new issue.

you glanced from colt to reiner, then up at zeke, turning back to everyone as you made an offer. "well.. i have a guest room at my house, he could stay there for the night if it makes things any easier for you all."

"oh, you're an angel!" pieck sighed, reaching across the table and clasping your hands in hers, "and if the commander asks, i could say that he decided to stay with his family!!"

"sharp as always, pieck." zeke chimed from beside you, "though, i don't think it'd be fair to make her watch him all by herself, so i think it'd be best if i help her out with him for the evening, just to be sure he doesn't cause her any trouble."

he met eyes with pieck, and for a moment you thought you saw the briefest flash of realization cross her features, the slightest smirk perking up at her lips before her face relaxed back into its natural smile and she nodded at him. "great idea." she said, tugging at porco and colt's sleeves, "i'll deal with these two, and i'll tell the commander that you had a change of heart as well. reiner, hand me your wallet if you can't count the bills."

"i've got it." he grunted, fumbling with his wallet for a few moments before slamming a fistful of bills down in front of her.

"thank you very much!" she sang happily, getting all the money in order and putting her own small tip for the barmaiden before she slapped colt's arm a few times, prompting him to start scooting out of the booth.

zeke finally retracted his arm to begin leaving the booth, standing out on the floor and offering his hand out to you. you flushed, taking it and allowing him to help you to your feet. everyone got themselves situated, stepping out of the bar and saying their goodbyes, pieck, colt, and porco turning to make their way back to the barracks, zeke slinging reiner's arm over his shoulder and following you along as you gave directions on how to get to your home.

there wasn't many words exchanged between the three of you on your short walk, only having some small talk with zeke between the bouts of comfortable silence hanging around you in the warm night air. you arrived home within minutes, wrestling the key into the old lock and holding open the door for zeke to help reiner in.

"i can walk myself, jaeger." he muttered while kicking his shoes off, earning a low chuckle from the older man.

"then why aren't you doing it right now?"

he didn't get a response as you directed them to your bedroom, hoping to settle him down as soon as you could in the hopes of him being able to get enough rest to sleep off the worst parts of his hangover. while zeke assisted him, you scampered over to the guest bedroom to get it ready for your other, less intoxicated guest. but as you opened the door to the bedroom, you were mortified at the sight of your mess upon looking into the room. in the moment of wanting to do something nice for your friends, you'd completely forget about how you'd basically turned your spare room into more of a storage closet.

looking around to try and think about where to get started, hopefully make it look like you didn't completely neglect this room for the past few months before zeke finished putting his friend to bed, you felt a hand on your shoulder, stiffening in surprise as you slowly turned to look at him.

"i-i'm really sorry, i totally wasn't expecting guests tonight, and i promise i've been meaning to move everything to the basement-"

"don't worry about it, really." he stopped you before you could continue to profusely apologize, offering you another one of those warm smiles that made your knees feel weak, "let me help you, it's the least i could do after you opened your home to a couple of irresponsible soldiers." to your surprise, he brushed past you, picking up one of the many boxes that had accumulated on the bed and floor over the months. "you said you had a basement, right? would you mind showing me where it is exactly?"

unable to find your words, you pointed halfheartedly to the door at the end of the hall, watching him carry one of the few boxes that had left you panting by the time you'd transported them across the house with ease, not even having to set it down to open the door and begin descending the steps. his quick return up the steps finally spurred you into action, hauling another box into your arms and repeating his path of depositing it down in your basement and returning to your room to grab another, making sure to take it slow on your way down the steps from how heavy the alcohol made your limbs feel.

within a few minutes, you both had everything squared away. you let yourself take a seat on the now empty bed, breathing out a sigh of relief and wiping the sweat that had begun to bead around your forehead with the back of your hand, watching as he settled down next to you. "sheesh, you made all that heavy lifting look so easy! and thank you again, for doing such a generous favor for me."

"there's no need to thank me." he replied earnestly, a hand settling on your thigh, making you suppress a small flinch, "you have a lovely home, do you really live all on your own?"

you tried to laugh off the warmth of his hand on your skin through your long skirt. "y-yeah, it's just been me for a while. sometimes friends come over for the night, but for the most part, it's just me."

zeke hummed pensively, grey eyes shining with something dangerous as he gazed down at you. "makes sense that someone such as yourself hasn't found anybody qualified enough to settle down with," he grinned at your flustered expression, openly appreciating the way your eyes widened and you breathed out a soft, indecisive 'thank you', "though, i was so sure that you and reiner had something between you.."

"n-no! it's not like that." the words spilled out of your mouth before you could even think about them, the desire to answer him overriding any clear thought that might cut through your intoxicated embarrassment, "i'm sure s-soldiers such as him and yourself don't really have time to play around with people l-like me."

you mentally slapped yourself for coming to such a conclusion, let alone allowing it to actually exit your brain and be heard by the most esteemed guest you'd probably ever have the honor of hosting.

"oh?" he peered curiously at you, thumb rubbing a slow stroke over your leg, face seeming much closer than it was a few blinks ago, "and what exactly is that supposed to mean?" you knew just how intentional his word choice was, practically setting up a verbal trap for you to fall into, but how could you not take the bait when it was marley's strongest warrior dangling it before you?

"i-i-i'm sorry, s-sir— zeke!"

you scrambled to correct yourself, looking any place except his face and wanting to do nothing more than hide away somewhere where neither him nor reiner could find you to sober yourself up before you could humiliate yourself any further. but you felt the desperation that was now gripping your pounding heart start to squeeze like a vice around it when a rough hand found your chin, gently turning your head to face him again.

"again with the apologies.. what am i going to do with you?"

your bottom lip quivered, more frantic sorries threatening to spill out, but stopped by the lack of air that you were able to take in from his proximity. you hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until you felt a tight ache seize your chest, exhaling an alarmed breath as you stared up into the glinting grey irises studying your face, mirroring their actions at the tavern but containing all of the hunger he'd been hiding in front of his comrades. the hand of your thigh slid up your leg just an inch, zeke breathing out a chuckle at the feeling of you tensing under his touch.

"if you must know," his face was so close that you could even see the pale freckles dotting across his sharp cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, the shadowed contour of his face looking even deeper in the dim light of the guest room, parted lips exhaling a warm breath that fanned across your face, the scent of alcohol still evident as he slowly spoke, "a soldier such as myself can make plenty of time to play around with someone like you."

you couldn't barely contain your awe, drawing in another shaky, shallow breath at the feeling of his lips brushing across your own, just daring you to indulge in his offer. you could barely form a cohesive thought before your brain forced a new topic into your conscious, confusion and shock and abrupt desire drowning out all the rationality that you were so desperately grasping for in this moment.

you'd just met this man tonight, it didn't matter that you'd known of his grand legacy even from when you were a young girl or felt like you'd gotten to know him quite a bit in that short amount of time, you'd only shaken his hand and drank with him and sat face-to-face with him for the first time just a few hours ago. not to mention how the person you were truly familiar with, the one who wasn't nearly a decade your senior, the one you had really been yearning for was just down the hall in your bed, only two shut doors and a few thin walls away from this spectacle. but, zeke was right in front of you, and he was offering out an opportunity that was impossible to refuse—an offer that you really, really didn't want to refuse.

so you didn't. you gave in to the sinful temptation of his warmth, his skin, his soft touches with calloused, work-roughened hands, the knowledge that this kiss was only just the beginning of something unforgettable.

in contrast to his hands, his lips were soft, ridiculously soft as they pressed over yours, the fingers at your chin unfurling to cup the length of your jaw. you leaned into his touch, earning a pleased grunt from him when your trembling hand found his hair, slowly carding through it as you focused on maintaining the easy rhythm of his kiss. you stifled a small sound when the hand on your leg smoothed up to your inner thigh, not pressing any further, just gently stroking and giving the occasional squeeze to the pliant flesh through your skirt.

you could feel the light flutter in your chest heavy and knot into something familiar, twisting deep in your stomach as he sucked at your bottom lip, nipping at it before his attention wandered across your cheek, the hand at your jaw tilting your head up to expose more of your neck to his eager mouth. faint kisses gave way to teasing bites and licks, drawing a soft whimper as he sucked with the intent to bruise where your shoulder met your neck. he seemed to appreciate the way your grasp in his hair tightened, the hand on your thigh traveling across your waist to find the knotted string holding up your skirt.

the progression of his actions felt natural, but almost too fast at the same time, your hand giving an apprehensive tug to his hair when you felt the waistline of your skirt go slack with the undoing of its lacing. he groaned lowly at the sensation, spurring you to do it again when his teeth grazed over the forming redness just right. you could feel the haze of arousal fogged your mind already, all rationale dissipating under the influence of the alcohol and the hands that were now roaming your body, searching for a moment for the top button of your shirt before they began to messily undo those as well. each brush of his fingers across your bare skin sent goosebumps across the expanse of your chest, making quick work of your blouse as he pushed it over your shoulders, guiding your arms out of the sleeves before tossing it aside in favor of working on the clasp of your bra, never pulling away from his place at your neck for more than a moment before returning the bruising attention of his mouth back over the flushed skin.

you breathed out a weak whimper at the feeling of his thumb and forefinger taking one of your nipples between them, bra forgotten somewhere on the floor with your shirt, baring the entirety of your naked torso to him. he could feel how you squirmed when another hand smoothed down your stomach, slipping beneath your skirt's waistline and settling just between your legs, only a sheer barrier provided by your thin underwear, the arousal threatening to soak through the fabric leaving it clinging to every fold. he hummed appreciatively at the welcome surprise, drawing more stifled sounds out of you when his fingers slowly stroked over your clothed cunt.

"all this just for me?" he murmured lowly in your ear, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive nub.

his touch was electrifying, almost overwhelmingly good as you arched into it, the hand at your breast now groping at the supple flesh, palm offering a much-needed friction over your nipple. you finally registered his teasing question, barely managing a disoriented 'mhm' and a small nod, unable to think of anything else besides your heartbeat pounding loud enough that you though he might be able to hear, and the fingers prodded at you and teasing your body as they pleased.

your half-lidded gaze drifted to the door, blinking away the fogginess when you realized it wasn't actually properly shut. you opened your mouth to try and murmur out your observation, but the words in your head spilled out as an incoherent moan, feeling his mouth detach from your bruised neck before he urged you down onto the mattress. but the sight of him standing above you, tugging off his shirt and revealing the impressively toned physique of his stomach and chest, made you forget the ajar door behind him entirely. your hands moved without a second thought, pushing your skirt and underwear down your legs as far as you could, kicking them the rest of the way off as he began to unbuckle his belt.

you couldn't help the way your eyes widened when he shoved down his pants and underwear in one go, unable to choose between focusing your gaze on the smug smirk drawing across his lips or his achingly hard cock, already looking like more than you could handle even at a distance. he plucked his glasses off his face, setting them on the bedside table before he moved over you in bed, your hands tugging him down into a kiss and earning a low chuckle against your lips.

"eager little thing, aren't you?" he only pulled away for a moment to speak, knuckles dragging down the swell of your breast and curving down your waist. your legs spread in anticipation, back arching off the bed when his fingers finally trailed down between your thighs to smooth a finger down your pussy. "and so, so wet."

you squeaked at the intrusion of two thick fingers pumping into you, sliding in easily with a soft, wet sound. the rhythm of your lips faltered, whimpering as his tongue slid between your teeth, tangling with yours, mouth greedily swallowing every desperate sound you made for him. you were grateful for how he was muffling you, just barely remembering that there was another presence in your house besides you and zeke that you had to worry about, heat sparking up your spine at the feeling of his fingers curling just right inside you.

the thought of reiner finding you in here with the captain of his squad, so pathetically obedient and practically dripping from just his fingers, was horrifying and unnervingly thrilling all at once. would he be angry with you? why would he be? what did he even consider you as?

you couldn't dwell on that thought for too long, hips bucking and toes curling when his thumb rubbed firm circles over your clit, wordlessly begging for more. he seemed to be just as impatient as you were in the face of your desperation, pulling away from your lips and removing his touch from between your legs, rolling himself onto his back and tugging you on top of him in one swift motion. you flush even deeper as you watched him drink in the sight of your naked figure, large hands finding your hips, pupils blown wide enough to nearly swallow up the silvery grey of his irises as he eased you down so his cock was just at your aching cunt, offering a sliver of mercy by allowing you to seat yourself onto him as fast or slow as you'd like.

just the first few inches had you whimpering, hands settling on his chest to steady yourself, teeth worrying the skin of your bottom lip, trying to contain the borderline humiliating sounds that were making him grin so smugly up at you. you could feel tears pricking your eyes by the time you finally sank all the way down, deep, shaky breaths giving away your lack of composure even more so than the way the thighs on either side of him tremble, or the nails now digging into the toned muscles of his shoulders. he gave you just a moment of respite, letting you get used to the feeling of something so big before his grip on your hips fastened, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he began to guide you up and down on his cock.

the low groan your motion earned from him was enough to make your already pounding heart race even faster, heat echoing through you in a way that made it impossible to silence the heated whines that were spilling out of you. the bed squeaked in protest beneath you, but you could care less as you quickened the pace he'd started you at all on your own, admiring the flush that had darkened over his handsome features and the parted lips breathing out low curses and appraising groans.

his eyes fell shut, head falling back before he forced it back up, gaze wandering across your face, then your body, then flitting elsewhere for the briefest moment before they returned to you, hips now thrusting up with even more vigor to meet your own. you moaned openly, struggling out a meaningless string of pleas, the ache beginning to burn in your legs drowned out when he reached out to rub tight, fast circles around your clit. he was grinning now, licking his lips before he spoke in a knowing slur, "you're gonna cum soon, aren't you?"

"yes, f-fuck yes..!" it took you a moment to find your words, embarrassed by how fast he'd managed to work you up to this point but unable to be dishonest in your current position.

his motions didn't falter in the slightest, only seeming to grow more and more urgent as you quivered and whined, bouncing yourself up and down on his cock like it was the last time you'll ever get the chance to do it. and while that's likely the case, you don't care to think about it, too wrapped up in the way you could feel that pressure that had been welling in your stomach finally reach a breaking point, stammered curses devolving into breathless cries as you came hard around him.

you could feel the movement of his hips slow significantly, still rocking up into you to let you ride out your high but not nearly enough for him to push himself over the edge along with you. but you're grateful for his mercy, knowing that if he'd continued at the pace he was going you probably wouldn't be able to walk the next morning. so you took it as a testament to his goodwill, falling forward onto his chest in a whimpering heap, trying to steady your breathing and calm your heart rate, remaining seated on his still hard cock.

you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, the other resting across your shoulder so he could settle his hand on the back of your head, fingers working their way into your hair and gently carding through it. the attention was comforting, unexpected but definitely comforting as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, still too hazy off of your post-orgasm bliss to have any shame about wanting to be close to his warmth. you didn't think about whether he was expecting you to get him off at some point, or if he was just content letting you rest on top of him like this, but you soon found that he had a much different answer—or rather, a question—that didn't at all take you into consideration.

"so, reiner, are you just going to stand there and watch all night?"

there was confusion for a brief moment, then a horrifying realization that made an ice-cold fear prick under your spine, blood draining from your face as you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck raise, completely frozen at the knowledge that the worst of the night you had imagined had come true. zeke's hand didn't stop its slow petting across your head, arm fastening around your body, seemingly in preparation for you to start squirming or fighting to get away. but you couldn't move an inch, not even enough to turn your head and risk a glance at your friend who was apparently right at the door.

"well?" his voice rumbled low in his chest once more, dripping with arrogance, entirely absent of any shame, just tempting him to step past the unseen boundary that had kept him there for however long he'd been watching, "i know, i know, you haven't your fair share all night. it's just so, sohard to let go once you finally get your hands on her. you should know all about that feeling, right?"

"fuck you."

you felt a warm curl in your stomach at the sound of his voice, breathing short and fast as your heart skipped anxiously, but mentally almost enjoying the fact that he was feeling something for you, even if it was some sort of possessive envy. the sound of his heavy, uneven footsteps making their way towards the bed.

he clearly still sounded drunk—who wouldn't be after so many beers in one sitting—and that was probably why he didn't hesitate at all to start tugging his clothes off, the ruffle of fabric and clinking metal of a belt being unbuckled finally snapping out of your compliant state, shaky arms trying to push yourself in bed. zeke allowed you to sit up, hands dropping to your thighs as your foggy gaze wandered from his face over to reiner at the bedside, heartbeat nearly drowning out the other sounds in the room as it drummed loudly in your ears.

"you don't mind, do you?" zeke called your attention back to him, gently stroking up and down your thigh just as he had been when you'd first accepted his offer.

your mouth had gone dry, leaving you struggling to get enough saliva back for your tongue not to stick to the roof of your mouth, feeling the heat of arousal flickering back to life when his cock twitched inside of you. did you mind? well you definitely minded the humiliation, the anxiety taut within your chest that made each breath an effort, the fact that you had no idea what was going on or would happen next. but did you mind enough to force yourself off of him, to struggle to collect your clothes from the ground and stagger out of the room with shaky legs that you weren't sure were capable of doing even that right now? did you really want this?

but it seemed that the choice had already been made in both of their minds, your answer—or lack thereof— speaking for your choice in the matter as zeke's hands lifted you up off of his lap, enough for him to slip out from under you. the sudden emptiness after being so full made you whimper, falling back down onto your calves in the middle of the bed and staring down at zeke's cock, slick with your arousal and still aching to be tended to.

the sinking weight of reiner clambering onto the bed behind you made you exhale a shaky breath, still in disbelief as his hand settled on your cheek, turning your head to face over his shoulder to press his lips onto yours. his kiss was messy but familiar, his low moan making you shiver alongside the feeling of zeke's stare wandering across the display before him. your exchange didn't last long before he pulled away, gazing at you with an unreadable look in his golden eyes for a moment, hand moving to the back of your head to push you down onto your hands and knees.

you obediently complied, met with the sight of zeke's cock once more, peering up to meet his gaze, features showing a mixture of eager expectancy and relaxed pride, just knowing that you were willing to do whatever he asked of you. and he relished in the changes your expressions went through in the next few seconds, the way your eyes widened when reiner's hands grasped your soft hips, how you swallowed thickly to try and get enough saliva down your tongue to get your mouth ready, and finally your mouth falling open and face twisting when reiner eased himself entirely into you in one solid thrust, finding little resistance from how soaked you were. you whimpered out a shaky curse, fists bunching up the sheets under you as he picked up a steady rhythm from behind you, zeke's fingers tangling into your hair and guiding onto your parted lips onto his awaiting cock.

he groaned out at the wet heat of your mouth engulfing him, tongue laving up over the underside of his length as you did your best to take as much of him in as possible without gagging. you wanted to be ashamed of how much you were enjoying the feeling of being entirely overwhelming, fuller than you'd ever felt in your entire life, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you'd made a mistake by giving in to the lustful temptations. you could feel your eyes water as zeke hit the back of your throat, your teary gaze and muffled moans against him only seeming to enthrall him further. reiner's hands felt up your waist, one reaching down your front to pinch and roll a nipple between his fingers, driving more stifled sounds and shaky breaths through your nose out of you.

you felt yourself squeezing around his cock, earning yourself a few low, muttered curses as he began to pound even faster into you, evidently approaching his limit just as fast as you are. the hand in your hair was guiding you up and down on the cock in your mouth, the tip of your nose just brushing zeke's stomach each time you surged forward with the momentum of the thrusts from behind you. it was all far too much in the best way possible, vision going hazy at the edges from the lack of proper air you could get into your lungs, insides aching from overusing alongside the tight knotting deep in your gut that was threatening to send you over the edge.

it was zeke that came first, heat pooling over your tongue and spilling down your throat, nearly too much for you to swallow as you tried not to choke. but he kept himself in your mouth and his hand firmly grasping your hair, if not to feel the hum of your desperate whines across your skin then to admire your pathetic expression, half-lidded eyes barely able to hold themselves open enough to stare back at him as you came hard for the second time that night. you could hear reiner give a generous groan of your name, thrusting as deep as he could go just a few times more, having enough sense to not cum inside you, pulling out and making a sticky mess of your trembling thighs.

only after you'd blinked away the glossiness in your eyes did zeke pull himself out of your mouth with a wet pop, holding your head up to appreciate the way your mouth still hung open to gasp in much needed gulps of air, tears and saliva dripping down your chin, halfhearted whimpers still escaping you as you trembled.

"you have good taste, reiner." zeke said, releasing your hair and letting you rest your cheek down against the mattress under you, grabbing his glasses off the side table and putting them back onto his face.

you watched as he stepped off the bed, picking out his clothes from the messy array of garments strewn about on the floor and tugging them on. he fished a handkerchief out of the the pocket of his pants, tossing it at reiner's side and glancing over your body, offering you a lazy smile when he caught your gaze.

"clean her up," he instructed, reaching out to give one last soft touch down your back, "and don't give her anymore trouble, alright? i expect to see you bright and early tomorrow."

you assumed that reiner nodded, since zeke turned without another word and exited the bedroom, making sure to shut the door behind him. for a moment, there was uneasy silence, only occupied by your breaths and the faint sound of zeke pulling on his boots somewhere in the living room and leaving out the front door. you gave a low hiss at the feeling of the fabric smoothing down the backs of your thighs, skin far too sensitive for your liking and legs aching uncomfortably.

you lifted your head up enough to wipe your chin with the back of your hand, eyes and limbs heavy with the desire to sleep. there were no words exchanged as he helped you move to lay down on your back, his face just as tired as he'd looked at the bar, but there was something else weighing down his expression as you took his face in your hands, staring up at him with a soft look of concern.

and though he still said nothing, he kissed you, so much gentler than he'd ever kissed you, with a tenderness that made you want savor this brief moment for as long as you could. but he eventually pulled away, and the brief worry that he might leave just as his captain had minutes before, but he rested down beside you with a low sigh. he didn't protest when you curled into the warmth of his body, head finding a comfortable place on his chest, not even bothering to try and venture out onto the floor to turn off the lamp before you settled down and let your eyes fall shut.

it was easy to fall asleep after he wrapped his arms around you, firm chest rising and falling with steady breaths, heart slow in your ear. you didn't think about the fact that you'd probably wake up alone in the morning, or that walking properly would be a monumental task on its own without even considering going to work to stay on your feet for the entire day—just appreciated this night while he couldn't slip away from you like all the other times before.

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

Text

-The Arrangement- Chapter 1

Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable add. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter summary: Let’s meet our lovely [Y/N]. Every good story starts somewhere. Buckle up for the next few months babes <3

Chapter 1

“Nope, sorry, I have to get to my other job.” You politely declined getting after-work drinks with your colleagues like usual. It was nice of them to still invite you even though you never said yes.

You excused yourself to the company restroom. Out with the office worker, in with the bartender. You switched shirts, put your hair up in a ponytail, and applied heavier make-up. You'd switch out your skirt when you got to the club. As dumb and gross as it was, you always made more money when you wore your questionably short shorts. Oh well, money is money.

You sent a quick text to your brother to make sure he and your sister got to your aunt's apartment and then headed for the station. Ok. How much money do I need to make tonight? You asked yourself as you opened the banking app. You mentally calculate the amount needed to feed your siblings, pay for the bus, and utilities. Ugh Maybe Park Minho will let me stay for him tonight. He usually wanted to get out of work early to go hang out with his friends. You would be ok this week if you stopped taking the bus and ate more ramen and less real food. You sighed. You were so tired.

You walked through the black glass doors of Club Tokki. There were only a few customers right now and you immediately went to see if anyone had made coffee. Work coffee=free coffee. Luckily for you, Lisa, the woman who worked the day shift almost always needed an extra dose of afternoon caffeine and there was still enough for a cup.

“Hey doll!” Lisa greeted you. “Here, I brought some milk in as well,” she said as she poured the coffee for you.

“You are a lifesaver. Thank you so much.” You gratefully took the mug, warming your hands.

“No problem, do you need me to do anything before I leave? I’m going to close out with those two groups first.” She asked as she rinsed off some pint glasses.

You assessed the bar looking to see what you might need over the next few hours. “Yeah, ask the bar-back to get two more bottles of Goose and a bottle of Crown. We usually go through those on Wednesdays. And maybe cut a few limes and lemons. Thanks.” You took the coffee with you to the small office and finished changing clothes. Lisa was a student so she shared your need for thrifty living, coffee, and work. You didn’t have many friends, but you knew you could count on Lisa for caffeine and getting the bar prepped.

You walked back out to the bar, mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead. In a few minutes people like your office coworkers would stream in, treating each other to after work drinks, socializing, and networking. You used to wonder if your circumstances were different if you would be the type of person who went out after work and socialized with their colleagues. You had come to the realization that “no” you wouldn’t. You would probably go home and sleep. Maybe read. You sighed and shimmied behind the bar as Lisa started to count down the drawer. "Alright, I asked the barback for the alcohol and there's 2 cups of lines and lemons."

"Thanks a lot babe. See you tomorrow." you waved at her and started to move stuff around to where you liked it.

"Happy money making." she smiled and headed out.

As predicted about half an hour later, office workers start to show up and the bar is slowly starting to fill up. Club Tokki is known for its laid back vibe so it's mostly beers and "and" drinks. Whisky and coke. Vodka and soda. Occasionally there were some younger girls here that ordered the more complicated drinks. But you got those out as well; this wasn't the first bar you'd ever worked at, just the latest incarnation. And just like that, the night starts to speed up. Minho arrives two hours into your shift for the after-dinner rush.

“Just in time dude,” you greeted him as he walked behind the bar.

“What do you need?” He asked as he clocks in for the night.

“The bar is caught up if you want to go check section one. Shinhye has the rest of the floor.” You instructed him and used this opportunity to catch up on cleaning dishes. You caught one of the guys at the end of the bar staring at you. He was definitely good looking, and stood out with his expensive suit, silver hair, and strong facial features. Whatever. As long as he tips. You were not looking for a boyfriend. Or a hookup. You cringed at the thought of even trying to navigate dating between your work schedule and also living with your Aunt as a grown ass woman. You shook your head like it would get rid of the thought. Satisfied with the current state of the bar you took a minute to drink some water and scan the club. There were worse places you could work for sure.

Minho came back to the bar and asked you to make some shots while he grabs some beers. Grape bombs? Is this 2012? You resisted the urge to gag, having gotten sick on them when you were younger. You placed the drinks on his tray and checked the bartop once again.

Mr. Expensive Suit dimple-face was nursing a Goose and soda. “You doing ok?” you asked him as you made your way down the bar.

“I’m great. Thanks. What’s your name?”

“[Y/N]” you responded and started to move on to your next guest.

“This is the part where you ask my name.” he said arrogantly. Suddenly you did not care for him as much.

“Is it? I’ve never talked to someone in a bar before. I didn't realize there was a script.” you responded sarcastically. You hated it when guys thought they could manipulate you.

“Wow. Ok. Ok. Hard to get. I respect that. I’m Kim Namjoon.”

“Ok Mr. Kim, is there anything else I can get for you right now?” you asked, oh so sweetly.

“No. I’m good for now.” he said, laughing to himself. He shook his head incredulously and sipped his drink.

Well maybe you weren’t going to get tipped after all. Oh well.

The rest of the night was mostly a blur. The vodka special brought in quite a few people and you ended up going through four bottles of Goose. Mr. Kim Dimples remained, nursing only his second drink now and still staring at you even though he was trying hard to not look like he was staring. It was awkward. He was hot but sooo not your type. Which you thought you had made clear.

“Mr. Kim, are you sure you even like Goose and soda?” you teased him as you made another round checking on people.

“You know, I am more of a beer drinker myself, but I can’t pass up a good vodka special.” he leaned to the side, getting out his wallet, and pulled out a business card.

“[Y/N], I’d like for you to take this.” he stuck it between his index and middle finger, holding it out for you to take.

“I am flattered, Mr. Kim, but I’m not interested in anything like that.” you smiled politely.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Believe me, I’m not asking you on a date. You are so not my type,” he said with an air of disgust. As though he was repulsed that you would have even thought he would consider asking you out. “This is a job opportunity. I work for a talent agency of sorts.”

Wow. What a dick. “Oh yeah? What talent do you see?” you gesture to yourself. “I do pour some stiff drinks and can usually tell rude guys to fuck off with a smile on my face.”

To your surprise he just laughed. “You are very funny. And I suppose some people would find you attractive. Just take the card. I think you’re the best candidate I’ve found yet.” he stood up and put on his suit jacket, sitting the business card down on the bartop.

“Rude.” you casually said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it makes no difference to me if you accept or not. Regardless, there it is." He gestured to the card, and sat down way too much money on top of it. "Keep the change." He turned and left.

You didn’t end up closing for Minho; the two of you both stayed since it remained steady through closing time. You were weirded out by the conversation with Mr. Kim, but having worked in a bar for the past 7 years, it wasn't the weirdest thing that had ever happened to you. You threw the business card into your purse and forgot about it for the rest of your shift.

The remainder of the night passed without incident. As much as you disliked it, that weirdo's money helped make sure you could take the bus again the next few days. You stuffed your tips into your purse and walked home. Well. To your aunt's house. It didn't really feel like home. Just a temporary landing spot until you and your siblings could get your own place again.

You entered quietly and washed your hands. You dutifully went through your siblings school bags, making sure their supplies and homework were where they should be. You packaged their lunches as much as you could and started a fresh batch of rice for tomorrow. All mostly in the dark so you didn't wake anyone up. Your brother was sleeping on the couch, which you hated, but he insisted on it. You were sharing the guest bedroom with your sister and your niece.

You grabbed your laptop and curled up in the corner of the kitchen to not bother anybody. I’m a 27 year old loser hiding on the floor of my Aunt’s apartment in the middle of the night. I have to wake up in 5 hours for my other job and instead I’m going to look up a website that some weird ass rude hot guy at a bar gave me. Why is this my life? You thought, and yet you pulled out the business card and entered the link. It took you to a black website with a white box asking for a code. You flipped the card over, and there it was, handwritten. You type it in and wait for the website to load, convinced it’s going to be some weird porn site with fisting or crush videos. You almost cover your eyes but to your pleasant surprise it’s a normal website.

Seeking: a suitable adult woman for long-term companionship. Will be well compensated. Serious inquiries only.

The text continued: If you are on this website, congratulations. You have already presented the basic level qualifications for this position.

Ok. So maybe this was an escort service. Which I mean...if it paid better than both of your jobs and you didn’t have to have sex with people maybe you could. No. No. You talked yourself out of it and scrolled down to read more of the description,

Requirements:

Female between the ages of 20 and 40.

Flexibility in schedule

Desire to travel and attend events

Strong personality and interpersonal skills

Proficiency with Microsoft Excel and Word

Punctuality, attention to detail, and strong organizational skills

Desired but not necessary

Non-smoker/drinks alcohol socially

Like animals

Enjoy listening to music

Compensation:

Position requires relocation to on-site premises and therefore covers room and board.

Monthly stipend (click here for more information pertaining to taxes)

3 meals a day, beverages, and snacks included

Most escort services didn’t require proficiency in Microsoft Word or Excel...you were guessing. Maybe it was a legit job. Like an on-site event planner? You clicked the link contained in compensation and HOLY SHIT THAT WAS A LOT OF MONEY.

You bit your lip and pulled up your resume. It couldn’t hurt to submit it, right? You didn’t have much to update since you had just started your office job 3 months ago. You updated the resume to include that job and listed your address as Club Tokki’s in case this was actually a sex trafficking set up. You thought about it for a another minute and then uploaded the document, took a deep breath, and hit “send.” NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @lidda

#bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfction #bts yoongi x reader #bts suga x you #bts fics #bts au fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Note

Hellloo Panda!! One more ask from me for your lovely 160 follower event. Could we please do the “Party” prompt for canon-verse Allen60?

I wanna read about these two getting together at a DPD houseparty. It could be one of Gavin and Tina’s frat-style ragers or it could be one of Fowler’s awkward dinner party/ wine appreciation sessions - whichever is sillier in your opinion hehehe

Thank youuuu✨✨✨

//I love this idea thank you. Also! You can send as many as you would like

Allen found himself watching Sixty quite often. At the precinct or compound he had the ruse of being his superior and he wanted to be sure Sixty didn’t break or break anything else. Now, at a New Years party for the Station there was no reason to be staring at him. Keeping an eye on him maybe, he had a penchant for getting into trouble and he and Gavin liked to fight, but not staring, not like this. Allen didn’t know Sixty’s thoughts on the matter, but liked to consider them friends. They talked often, and while Sixty’s mind tended to focus on work he would indulge Allen in other conversations as well. It was nice. It didn’t explain the staring though. The one thing he could find to blame it on was the change. He was used to seeing Sixty in his Kevlar or his work blacks. He had never seen him in a suit it was unusual. That wasn’t to say that Sixty wasn’t usually put together. Honestly he almost always was. He was the only person who would come out of a raid without a hair out of place; which he supposed was easy when your hair wasn’t much more than a projection. It was just odd to see him trying Allen supposed. Sixty did what made sense, as all androids tended to do he supposed, and usually that meant staying in his work blacks. When the announcement had said work attire was allowed, Allen had been expecting to see him in those, not a full three piece.

The worst of it though was he had been talking with Jeff, he was the host after all, and then had just stopped dead when Sixty had come in and now he was only half paying attention to what was being said. They had gotten work talk out of the way so he was mostly coasting by on small talk, which probably wasn’t a good plan in the long run. He pulled his eyes away from Sixty and turned his attention back to Jeff; he was not inclined to express how much effort that took; only to find his fellow captain looking at him with a knowing expression. “Your neck would probably have a better night if you went over and actually talked to him you know.” He remarked dryly. “Try as you might, its pretty clear he’s a favorite of yours. Tonight isn’t so much a work function as a social one, talking to him won’t hurt anything. “Jeff, I can’t.” Allen protested, “This is different then at the compound. If he’s branching out finally it would be rude to but in.” “Do it or I will. There are three androids in a building with Gavin, how do you think tonight is going to go?” Jeff said dryly, “I would like it better if one of the events wasn’t a goddamn fist fight.” “So you want me to make a fool of myself to break the tension?” Allen pressed.

“I want you to talk to your friend and maybe circumvent a fight in the process.” Jeff replied, “I never said you had to be honest with him. What you tell him is your business not mine.” “Very helpful Jeff.” Allen remarked, “What I am going to do instead is go outside and have a smoke.” “I thought you quit.” Jeff said as Allen turned for the back deck. “I’m trying to, but it comes and goes.” Allen replied before he stepped outside. He lit his cigarette and leaned back against the house and took a drag as he looked out into the yard. He thought about talking to Sixty, but he didn’t know what to talk about outside of work. Their two weeks always matched up and he didn’t know what Sixty did outside of work, if he did anything at all. It was odd to consider them close without knowing much about him, but someone could only save your life so many times before you felt something, be it a connection or awe. Allen’s issue was that he didn’t know which he was feeling. He knew he enjoyed Sixty’s company, but he didn’t know if it was out of respect or because he liked him on some level more than he should of. At risk of sounding like the android consuming his thoughts, there was just too much unaccounted for to come to a conclusion. Why was it the suit instead of his work blacks that had him questioning this? Was it even the suit, or had that just been the tipping point? He didn’t have answers to any of those and it was infuriating. He should be enjoying the party, not overthinking this, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside without some kind of answer to his question.

“So this is where you wandered off to.” Allen startled at the sound of Sixty’s voice. He and Connor sounded very similar, Sixty’s voice just had more of a sarcastic lilt to it than Connor’s did. “I was looking for you.” “The crowd was getting to me and a needed to step out for a bit.” Allen lied, well it wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. “Captain Fowler said you wanted to talk to me about something?” Sixty continued and Allen wanted to back in there and start a fight himself. “Did he?” Allen took another drag from his cigarette, “And he said it was a private matter as well didn’t he.” “He did.” Sixty agreed and Allen saw him nod out of the corner of his eye, “Are we supposed to be investigating someone? Did I miss the briefing, I know I was late but I didn’t think that two minutes and fifteen sec-” “Its a personal matter Six, you didn’t miss anything.” Allen said before he could spiral out of control. “Have I done something wrong?” He sat down and Allen turned to face him letting out another puff of smoke as he did. “No Six. Jeff is just meddling like he always does.” Allen said, “Part of it is because he delights in seeing me miserable and the other part is that he doesn’t want you and Gavin getting into another fight.” Sixty laughed, “That’s fair. We broke something last time. So what’s bothering you?” “Its not so much that something is bothering me, its more that I’m stuck.” Allen elaborated, not missing the way Sixty looked him over for a moment before it dawned on him that Allen hadn’t meant it literally.

“How do you mean?” He asked, “What is it?” “I’ve been thinking about how I really don’t know anything about you outside of work.” Allen admitted, “I consider us friends, but I don’t really know all that much about you.” “There isn’t that much to know. I live at the compound and if I’m not on my two weeks I’m usually in stasis.” Sixty replied without hesitating, “Sometimes I meet up with Nine Hundred and Connor, but most of the time they would rather be with their detectives. But for what its worth I consider us friends as well.” Allen had a lot to unpack in what Sixty said, but he found himself smiling, “So you just stay at the compound? There’s nothing you would rather go do?” “Its easier if I’m there to respond if I’m needed.” Sixty replied, “Not particularly. All the Station events are for social appearances only, and a lot of your culture seems to have that air of just doing it to be observed about it, and that doesn’t interest me.” “So there’s nothing you’ve been curious about?” Allen pushed. “There are somethings, but I can usually learn them from Nine Hundred or Connor.” He replied, “Though I find there is a pleasant hum in my systems whenever you tell me about what you do on your weeks off rotation.” Allen laughed, “My life is nothing glamorous.” “But that’s exactly it. I am unable to get the same rush of survival that you do from working this job as you do so it’s nice to hear how much you enjoyed marathoning a show or catching up on a book.” Sixty explained, “I don’t have a reason to or a way to enjoy the mundane in that same sense because this job isn’t a risk to me. Its something I only get from you and its nice.”

Allen was staring and he knew it. Maybe Jeff had a point, what happened tonight didn’t have to be official. No one outside of them needed to know. He had also come to the conclusion that the suit had only been the breaking point. What he liked was Sixty, and apparently his mouth decided he needed to know that. “I love that about you, you know.” Silas looked at him for a moment, his LED blinked yellow a few times before he smiled, “You do? Here I thought it was the suit. You were staring at me all night.” Allen became aware of several things at once. One of them the blatant reminder that Silas was a top of the line android, and therefor would know if someone was staring at him. He probably heard Jeff talking to him; and perhaps Allen himself hadn’t been as subtle as he would have liked. “Humans have a tradition of kissing the person they plan to spend the year with correct?” Sixty asked, “Do you think the powers at be would be upset if we did that a little early?” “No.” Allen said with a smile, “I don’t think they will.”

@asset35-maya

(Prompt from this list)

#Canonverse short #Allen60 #dbh allen #dbh sixty #dbh fic #dbh #160 follower ask event!#ask panda #panda has all the answers!

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halfway-happyyy · 4 years

Text

The Autumn Cottage

Happy Saturday friends! Autumn has arrived in full force where I live and I couldn’t be happier about it. To celebrate, I have written a sappy, smutty piece inspired by the current weather and this ask that I received: Can u give us a oneshot about a snuggle fuck w alex in a cozy cottage in the fall?

One of the greater joys in her life had to have been waking up to autumn's fickle fingers trying to desperately to reach her from the comfort of her woolen blanket. She watched, sleepy and bleary-eyed as leaves in shades of crimson and burnt umber drifted past her window in no particular direction. Her fingers roamed over the left side of the bed in search of him. Alexander's silhouette was barely visible through the indigo morning light, though she could make out the prominent line of his nose, and the slight curve of his bottom lip. Unmistakable in the minimal glow of dawn was the familiar glitter in his eyes, the glint that said so much about him and then nothing at all in equal measure.

“Good morning.” She whispered, and even that felt like too mighty of a disturbance in the stillness of their bedroom in the cottage. Though if he minded, he never let it show.

“Good morning yourself, kid.”

She reached the tip of a finger towards him wordlessly and brushed a feather-light touch down the bridge of his nose. Moving lower, she outlined his lips and grinned into the air before her as she felt him smile against her touch. She moved around his face with care, tried to memorize each delicate crease and wrinkle in her wake, tried to commit to memory the aspects that he resented about himself, even if she loved them beyond measure.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured as he brought the back her wrist to his lips, kissing the soft flesh there passionately. He brushed the pad of a calloused thumb over the rounded curve of her warmed cheek. “Like watching a flower bloom right before my very eyes.” They stayed like that for longer than either of them cared to admit; she could count on one hand in the past year that she had spent a weekend with him like this- alone and entirely undisturbed from anything and everything. He had broached the subject of a rented cottage in passing one morning a few weeks ago. It was one of those mornings where something had gone awry at every turn, and everything had been a blur. He had been late for something important, that much she could remember. He had rushed around the kitchen in a fury, muted Swedish curse words coloured every second sentence. He was out of breath when he reached the front door, weighed down by his leather laptop bag, but before he left, he turned to her and smiled. “Let’s get away together, kid.” She had taken it with a grain of salt until he returned home that evening, tired from a rather long shooting schedule, but in a fantastic mood all the same. “I mean it. It’s about to be a beautiful autumn. Let’s get away, just the two of us.”

“Shall I make you a coffee, or are we just going to lay in bed and stare at each other all day?” She offered him a cheeky smile and an exaggerated eye-wiggle which he simply laughed at.

“I have half a mind to choose the latter option, but I really do need some caffeine this morning.”

She nodded finitely and leaned in for a kiss, the innate push and pull of it caused a fire to ignite deep within her for him. She could easily spend the rest of her life doing this very thing; loving him fiercely and being loved back just as hard in return. “Alright,” She gasped as she pulled away from the allure of his hot, wet mouth. “Meet me in the kitchen.” She rose from the bed silently and padded over to her suitcase that was propped up on a wicker chair in the corner of the room. She noticed Alexander’s cream Sherpa sweater hanging over the arm of it and she ran a fingertip over the unbelievably soft material.

Alexander must have been watching her because when he spoke, his voice still gravelly from recent sleep, he startled her. “I’d be happy if you wore that, today.”

“You would?” She had been eyeing it ever since he’d brought it home from a shoot a month ago. She longed to wrap it around her frame, the sheer feeling of it luxe and utterly comforting on her bare skin. Especially as the months would inevitably grow colder.

“Watching you wear my clothing does something for me, kid. I love seeing how happy it makes you.”

With a small smile, she lifted the sweater over her head and let it fall into place on her body, the hem of it falling just above her knee. She pulled her hair from the confines of it and let it fall in waves down her back. “How do I look?” She asked.

“Beautiful,” Alexander murmured.

Satisfied with his answer, she made her way down the hardwood-floored hallway to the kitchen. She had thought at first that the silence of the cottage would be too loud; that city life had turned her into a creature who thought she craved noise on a near-constant level. But to her pleasant surprise, it had taken less than twenty-four hours to grow accustomed to it, and she knew now that she would miss it dearly when it was their time to go home. Eliciting a yawn, she stood on tiptoes and tried to remember which cupboard Alexander had hidden the coffee beans. Without warning, a large hand reached up above her head with ease and produced the bag for her with a sly smile. “I’d have found them eventually…” She muttered.

“Oh, I have no doubt of that. But- would you have been able to reach them?”

She shook her head and let out a small laugh. “Cheeky, vertically-adept bastard.”

They made their coffee together in silence. It had been one of the many things that drew him to her in the beginning. Where conversation seemed forced with every prospective partner and lover in the past- everything flowed the way it was supposed to with Alexander. There had never been a need to fill the quiet with empty words and small talk. It was a wonderful change of pace. “You hungry yet, kid?”

She remembered the basket of farm-fresh eggs in the fridge, thought of the loaf of homemade bread next to the coffee machine and her mouth watered tantalizingly. “I could definitely eat.” She watched him move around the kitchen with ease; watched the way his worn sweatpants hung low from the edges of his hips. She watched the way his muscles flexed in the light pouring in through the stained-glass window above the sink. She had always been struck silly by the beauty that this man possessed; but the notion that his soul bested his looks would never cease to leave her in utter awe. “What have you got on the go today?” She asked, a fork full of fluffy scrambled eggs rested in her hand.

Alexander passed a napkin over his lips, swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and shrugged. “Thought I might chop some wood for a fire tonight.”

She could hardly contemplate it now; the thought of watching her man hulk through multiple logs of wood caused her to physically clench her thighs together. “You plan on doing that soon?”

“After breakfast.” He confirmed.

True to his word, after the last dish had been washed and dried and properly put away, he stalked over to the coat hook in the front foyer and threw a sweater over his naked chest. Turning to her, he eyed her up and down and cocked his head to the side; a small smirk pulled at the edges of his lips. “Care to keep me company?”

Reaching for a blanket and the book that she had started yesterday morning, she nodded her head. “Lead the way.”

It was warmer outside than she had originally anticipated, though the autumn wind had picked up a little more voraciously, and she marveled at the falling leaves the same way she had earlier that morning. The sky above her was cloudless and a bright azure blue and she found herself thanking a higher being for the blessings in which she had been given. Opening the book to the page she had last left off on, the sound of an axe ripping through the middle of a log rang out through the clearing and she knew then that she would not be getting any further reading done this morning. Instead, she watched in awe as Alexander lifted the axe high above his head and brought it down with a force she had rarely seen before, the log splitting into two pieces and falling away from the stump. It was poetry in motion, really. Alexander’s hair was the longest she had ever seen it; the sandy blonde tresses were grown out and regularly fell over his eyes but she reveled in it. Of the many years that they had known each other, he had always kept a mostly clean-shaven face but quarantine, and the filming of a particularly brutal Viking revenge drama had rendered him more manlier and distinguished than she had ever thought possible. “You are fulfilling lumberjack fantasies for me that I never knew I had!” She called out to him.

Alexander tossed his head back, a hearty laughter bubbled up from the back of his throat and exited his mouth like music from a box. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to yourself, kid. I see the way you look at me when I put on my old and holey plaid jacket.” He took a break from chopping wood to wipe the sweat from his brow. “To add to this- you also purchased me a very expensive axe a few years ago for my birthday.”

“Guilty,” She muttered under her breath.

“But rest assured I am elated that this-” He gestured to himself. “Does it for you.”

The morning continued on in much the same fashion until maybe an hour or two later when Alexander joined her from her perch on the wrap-around porch. Falling into a bench opposite her, he took a few moments to try and regain his breath again. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his forehead and his broad chest heaved under the weight of recent physical duress. They each viewed each other with a hunger usually only attained after seeing one another for the first time in months. “Come here.” He ordered, softly. She rose from her spot without hesitation and sauntered over to where he sat. He pat the front of his thigh twice, a silent instruction for her to have a seat. She straddled his lap with ease and wrapped her arms around his neck; the heady scent of his perspiration and body wash made her lightheaded with want. It took every ounce of self-control not to grind shamelessly down on his steadily growing erection. As he held her tightly to him, his warm, broad hands rubbed reassuring circles into her back. She shivered into the touch as Alexander kissed his way up the side of her neck, his mouth leaving trails of fire in its wake. “You cold, kid?”

“No.”

He kissed his way up the base of her throat, past the jutting outline of her jaw, and finally to her lips. His mouth still tasted faintly of the maple syrup he had poured over his pancakes hours earlier and the urge to devour everything he had to give her was overwhelming. “You like me like this, don’t you?” He smirked. “All sweaty and dirty from working hard and chopping wood for us?”

“Yes.” Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as he continued kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. All the while his hands roamed greedily over her sweater-clad body, squeezing, and rubbing as they traversed.

“You want me to take you right here, baby girl?” His voice grew gravelly again, though it had nothing to do with sleep this time. “I don’t even have to touch you to know that you’re already soaked for me.” The wind had picked up again and had begun to blow her hair around her face, the cool breeze a welcome reprieve to her heated body. Alexander was fully erect now, his hard cock throbbed tantalizingly at her thigh. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and lifted the hem of the sweater to reveal her panties, and the wet patch that had grown steadily in the crotch of them. Alexander reached for her and slid two fingers past the flimsy material to her soaking folds. Immediately she leaned towards him to tuck her face into the crook of his neck, but he stopped her with a soft click of his tongue. “I want to see your face when you come for me, baby.” He brought a free hand up to caress her cheek, and as he held her, he brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. She parted for him without thought and began to suckle softly at it as his other hand started to delve deeper inside of her. He had perfected a rhythm with her now; one that no matter how many times he had pleasured her, would always be the fastest way to get her unravelling for him.

“More,” She gasped when two fingers just wasn’t enough anymore. Alexander nodded wordlessly, his gaze searching her own. He added a third finger inside of her, the stretch of it almost too much to bear.

“So fucking wet for me, baby.” He groaned, as he began to pump harder into her. He could feel her clench around him, could feel the soft, wet button of pleasure at the tips of his fingers. She sucked harder at his thumb the closer she neared to her orgasm. “You’re going to come for me soon, I can tell…” He murmured as she started to ride his fingers. “And don’t you dare be quiet about it.” He warned.

These words had helped to spur the wave of pleasure building in her belly and she arched her back against his fingers, her nails digging miniscule crescent shapes into the soft skin of his shoulder blades. “Fucking hell, Alex…”

He nodded up at her. “You look so fucking beautiful like this, my queen. That’s a good girl. Come for me,” He then angled his fingers in such a way that he had her screaming his name into the wind before them, her voice raw with unbridled pleasure. She continued to ride his fingers until she came down from her high, dropping her head to rest in the warm comfort of his neck. She couldn’t be sure how long she had taken solace there, but he eventually patted her bottom. “You came so good for me.” He pressed warm, wet kisses against her temple.

Taking his chin firmly in her grasp, she gazed at him. Unending vast oceans of blue peered back at her and took her breath away. “It’s your turn.” She crashed her lips against his again, the need to have him inside of her entirely all-consuming. He lifted her up in one fell swoop, standing tall from the bench as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep from falling. He carried her into the warmth of the cottage, stumbling down the length of the hallway to their bedroom where he laid her as gently as he could manage, on the bed. He made impressively quick time of ridding himself of his clothing, and as he stood before her, naked and unbearably erect, she realized that she genuinely loved the man before her. It had occurred to her before that she felt this way, but she could honestly say that no matter what they would go through together, no matter the pain he would put her through in future, she loved him deeper than she had ever loved anyone before. “Come here,” She insisted.

Alexander crawled up the length of the bed, holding her head in his hands as he did so. He entered her all-consuming heat with a loud groan, the feeling of him stretching her to maximum fullness was incomparable to any pleasure she had experienced before. Having him inside of her was a comfort that she never knew she needed until it had happened. As he moved inside of her, his head dropped to her shoulder where he scattered dozens of open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. She held him tightly to her as he bucked his hips against her, his cock managing to hit all of the essential nerves each time he bottomed out. He was muttering nonsensical things now, random pieces of Swedish and English found her ears and she smiled into their embrace. She clenched around him after every other thrust, and soon his movements had grown sloppy. “Fuck,” He growled as her fingernails raked through the soft, firm skin of his broad back.

“You feel so fucking good, Alex.” She gasped against his bearded cheek.

He cried out as his hips stilled against her own and she could feel the familiar throb of his cock as he spilled everything he had to give, inside of her. He allowed himself a few more powerless thrusts, and another low whimper before he pulled out of her completely. She found his sudden absence almost painful. They remained like that for an unknowable amount of time, each just trying to catch the breath that they had lost a while ago. Eventually Alexander turned on his side to view her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “I love you, kid.”

A crimson leaf lay next to his head on the down pillow, and she smiled softly to herself. “I love you too, Alex.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard oneshot #smut #writing #drabble

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heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years

Text

Lepidopterophobia

Shinobu Kochou x Fem Reader

A/N: Heyyyyy its been awhile! As far as warnings go, there will be some swearing and butterflies and that’s it as far as I can tell. Bye!

The Butterfly Estate. A beautiful place of refuge for injured demon slayers to rest in the care of the gentle and skilled Hashira Shinobu Kochou, and her attendants. Or as (Y/n) liked to call it, the house of nightmares. (Y/n) feared butterflies immensely. It was something that she would never openly admit. After all, who slays demons with no problem but screams and jumps away from the fluttering of fragile wings? She got enough teasing during her childhood, thank you very much. So, she never told anyone and that would have been fine, it’s not like the information would ever have an opportunity to be brought into conversation. Well, unless you forgot about the large estate that literally had the word “butterfly” in its name that was supposed to be a safe haven for demon slayers like her. (Y/n) was very careful. The last thing she wanted was to be injured and sent off to the Butterfly Estate to heal. She was lucky enough to find plenty of wisteria houses in the event that rest and healing were needed. At least, she was lucky until tonight.

“Aughhh, damn it!” (Y/n) cursed, sucking a sharp breath through her clenched teeth. She glared at the demon as its body crumbled away and she leaned her own battered body on the trunk of a tree. Her hand shook as she pulled it off of her side, gazing at the blood that painted her palm. (Y/n) had managed to behead the demon, but not before it shot off an attack of its own. (Y/n) craned her head up to the sky and saw her raven circling above, cawing loudly and clearly distressed. “Mochi!” (Y/n) hissed, not nearly loud enough for the bird to hear from that height, “Mochi, I’ll be fine! We just need to find a wisteria house...” (Y/n) grunted as she pushed off of the tree trunk she was resting on and staggered forward. She took off her haori and tied it tightly over her waist to slow the bleeding. “Help! Help!” Mochi cried, the bird was too panicked and high up to be reasoned with, but as the raven continued to circle (Y/n) felt a sense of dread pool in her stomach. Her raven was definitely calling for any Kakushi in the surrounding area to come to her aid. (Y/n) quickly jerked her head toward the sound of approaching footfalls and clumsily attempted to hide herself from view. “There she is!” “Hey, don’t worry we’re here to help!” “Shit,” (Y/n) muttered under her breath, leaning back against another tree and turning to face the two Kakushi that were approaching her. She forced a smile, “Oh, hey, thanks for coming, but I’m fine, really. My raven tends to blow things out of proportion, it’s really not that bad an injury.” “Doesn’t look like that to me,” One of the Kakushi answered gruffly. “Ow!” The other one elbowed him in the ribs and approached (Y/n) with concerned eyes peeking through their uniform. “Even so, we are more than happy to guide you to safety. The night is still young, more demons could come.” “That’s fair,” (Y/n) huffed once it was clear they were not going to leave. “I could use help getting to the nearest wisteria house.” “A wisteria house? There isn’t one for many kilometers,” the more gentle of the Kakushi informed. “Damn, where can we go then?” “Don’t you know where you are?” The Kakushi asked, eyes twinkling. “You don’t even realize how fortunate you are my friend! We’re not too far from the Butterfly Estate, much better than any old wisteria house in my humble opinion.” A cloud of darkness swirled over (Y/n)’s face. One would presume from blood loss, but being privy to (Y/n)’s fear, one would quickly know that blood loss wasn’t the cause. “Come on, lean on us, we’ll get you there in no time,” the other Kakushi spoke, closing in. “No, no, no, that won’t be necessary,” (Y/n) weakly waved her hands. “I’m, uh, I really rather go to a wisteria house.” “What? Don’t be ridiculous, you’d never make it in this state. You’re wasting time,” The more grumpy Kakushi said, grabbing her forearm. “Be gentle!” The other Kakushi chided, grabbing (Y/n)’s other arm and swinging it over their neck. (Y/n) began to panic in earnest now, dropping her previous act to struggle against the two Kakushi at her sides. “No! Please, don’t take me there! Anywhere but there!” “What the hell, lady!?” The grumpy Kakushi yelled as (Y/n) elbowed him in the gut. “Please stop struggling, we’re here to help you!” The other added, tightening their grip. “Help! Help!” Mochi yelled, dive-bombing their heads. It was all just absolute chaos. “Enough already!” Grumpy Kakushi swiftly chopped at the back of (Y/n)’s neck, causing the girl to fall unconscious and slump forward. “Oh my gods, why did you do that?” Gentle Kakushi scolded, adjusting their hold on (Y/n) so she wouldn’t slip to the forest floor. “She was being difficult and she’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to Kochou-sama quickly,” Grumpy Kakushi huffed, heaving (Y/n)’s other arm over his shoulder. They sprinted through the woods with practiced ease, eventually approaching the wisteria grove that guarded the estate like a natural barrier. They brushed passed the beautiful blooms and rushed to the infirmary. “New case!” The gentle Kakushi called as they burst into the infirmary. “Place her in that cot and I’ll asses the damage,” Shinobu called from the opposite side of the room as she finished changing the bandages of another patient. The two Kakushi heaved the unconscious girl onto the cot and Shinobu came over and observed the girl with a trained eye. “Unresponsive, this must be serious,” Shinobu frowned. “Well, you can thank him for that,” the gentle Kakushi poked. “He knocked her out!” “She didn’t give me much of a choice! She was adamant that we not bring her here. She was making it impossible,” Grumpy Kakushi explained. “Really? How peculiar,” Shinobu hummed. “I wonder why she would be so averse to coming here...” Shinobu would be lying if she said she wasn’t just a tad offended by this information. Nevertheless she thanked the Kakushi and dismissed them from the premises. She removed the blood soaked haori and the upper half of (Y/n)’s uniform the properly observe the wound. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the gash was rather nasty. Shinobu dabbed over the wound with antiseptic and washed away the blood with water. She then stitched up the wound with practiced ease and covered the area with gauze to protect it. Once that was done, Shinobu raised a thin sheet over (Y/n)’s body to cover her bare torso. With one last check of the girl’s vitals, she left her side and continued her rounds. *** (Y/n) groaned as she awoke the next morning. She rubbed her eyes and tried to sit up, only to fall back against the cot and gingerly grip her sore side and stomach. She took a moment to assess the damage and cringed at the old gauze rolled over her wound. Then she realized she was shirtless and pulled the thin sheet tightly over herself as she tentatively looked about the room. She was in an infirmary, that much she could tell. There were only two other patients in the room and both appeared to be in worse shape than herself if the missing limbs, thick bandages, casts and IVs meant anything. “Oh good, you’re awake. I was just coming to change your gauze.” (Y/n) startled slightly and turned to put a face to the soft voice that was addressing her. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes roamed over the face of the woman beside her. Gods, she was beautiful. (Y/n)’s eyes caught the purple tint of the woman’s hair and followed the pleasant color upward and took in a sharp breath through her nose and shuffled away before she realized that what was pinning the woman’s hair back was an accessory, and not an actual giant butterfly. Still the damage was done, and the woman gave her a puzzled look. (Y/n) assumed that, along with the audible in take of air and the sad distancing attempt, she had also had a stupidly fearful or shocked look on her face. “No need to be frightened, you’re safe here. I would never dream of hurting you in any way,” the woman spoke gently as she approached the side of (Y/n)’s cot, misreading (Y/n)’s momentary fear of her hair pin as fear directed at her. “I’m Shinobu Kochou, the Insect Pillar. You are in my home, the Butterfly Estate, recovering from a mission.” Fuuuuuuuuuck (Y/n) looked around the room nervously. So those Kakushi had managed to drag her to the Butterfly Estate and it wasn’t all just a bad dream. That would explain the hair pin. Not only that, but she was in the presence of the Insect Hashira herself and- oh, a Hashira! “It’s an honor to meet you Kochou-sama!” (Y/n) spluttered out, bowing her head as best she could lying down as a sign of respect. Shinobu laughed and the sound hit (Y/n)’s ears pleasantly and she shivered as an unexpected heat rose to her neck and cheeks. “It’s alright, no need to be so formal. You are here to recover after all,” Shinobu smiled. “Speaking of which, would you mind letting me check your wound?” “Oh, um, sure,” (Y/n) awkwardly shifted the sheet to cover her chest and left side, causing Shinobu’s smile to look a bit more sympathetic. “Sorry, can you drop the sheet, please? The shadows it’s casting is making it hard to see what I’m doing,” her smile quirked up a bit on one side. “I promise to be nothing but respectful and professional.” (Y/n) felt her cheeks begin to sting as they were positively on fire. She averted her eyes and dropped the sheet, allowing Shinobu to remove the dressing and check the sore skin tissue that started a bit above her navel and curved upward near her bottommost rib. “So, what’s your name?” (Y/n) almost forgot to answer, she was too busy focusing on the feather light fingers as they applied some kind of salve to her wound. “I’m (Y/n).” “Well, it’s nice to meet you, (Y/n). Have you been a slayer long? How are you adjusting?” Shinobu asked, closing the jar of salve and reached for the gauze. “I’d say I’m doing pretty well, I’ve been at it for almost four years now. I just reached Kinoto rank two weeks ago. So minus that last fight, yeah, I think I’m doing okay,” (Y/n) answered, a small yet proud smile formed over her lips. “You’ve been in the corps for almost four years and I’ve never had you as a patient?” Shinobu’s brows knit together as if she was contemplating something or she just got a new piece to fit in a puzzle that she did not like. “I dare say it’s not because you’ve never been hurt before, there are a few other scars that I can see here,” Shinobu leaned in and scanned over (Y/n)’s face, checking for any micro expressions as she spoke. “Now that I think about it, one of the Kakushi that brought you in claimed that you fought against their help and refused to come here. Have you been purposefully avoiding this place?” Me? (Y/n) found herself unable to look away from Shinobu’s eyes. They were like an amethyst abyss and (Y/n) felt like it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she could sink into them and float around aimlessly forever. She cleared her throat, “No! Not at all, I just- most of my missions are farther away from here actually. It’s just more convenient to stop at wisteria houses. This time, it just so happened that here was closer!” (Y/n) let out a breath of air that was supposed to be a laugh as the Hashira’s eyes bore into her own. Shinobu stared a moment or two longer before closing her eyes and straightened herself so her back held better posture. “I see, well, allow me to formally welcome you,” Shinobu smiled. “Who knows, perhaps in two weeks I’ll be begging you to leave,” Shinobu teased, her eyes gleaming. (Y/n) barely managed to stop herself from having her eyes pop out of her head. “Two weeks?” She squeaked out, cursing the way the words left her mouth. “Yes,” Shinobu tilted her head suspiciously. “I really don’t want to discharge you before you’ve healed properly. Is there a reason you seem to be in such a hurry to leave?” “What? No... who is hurrying? I’m in no hurry, I’m cool as a cucumber.” (Y/n) wanted to slap herself. “Okay, cool cucumber...” Shinobu said each syllable with such excruciating slowness, (Y/n) thought she might as well have flossed a piece of sandpaper between her ears. “Mind putting this on? Then we’re going to move you to another room that’s a little less... depressing,” Shinobu frowned as she looked over at the two other demon slayers who were still dead asleep. “Sure,” (Y/n) took the clothing from Shinobu and pulled the top over her head and carefully switched her pants without straining her injury too much. Shinobu smiled and offered (Y/n) her arm for support as she shakily rise to her feet. Then the pair slowly made their way out of the infirmary and down the hall. “Here we are,” Shinobu slid open the door to reveal a small, but homey room. “I bet you must be tired from the walk over here so I’ll leave you to rest in just a moment. One of my attendants, Aoi, will be helping you with day to day things like recovery training and meals. Of course I’ll be checking on your progress from time to time as well. Aoi will drop by in an hour or so with food so in the meantime if you can’t sleep, there are books on the shelf and there is also a lovely view of the garden from the window if your interested,” Shinobu smiled sweetly. “Thank you,” (Y/n) returned the smile and sighed once Shinobu left the room and the door closed behind her. (Y/n) took in her room and nodded appraisingly. It was really nice, nicer than any wisteria home she had visited before, and besides Shinobu’s hair accessory and her surname, (Y/n) had yet to see an actual butterfly in the whole place. She felt a little foolish. She had expected the estate to be a giant insectarium where all the butterflies would roam free without restriction. If this was all she had to deal with, she would have come here sooner. (Y/n) walked over to the window to check out the view, pulling back the curtains she froze for a moment before jerking the curtains back in place and jumping back several steps. “Shitfuckcunt!” (Y/n) clasped her hands over her rapidly beating chest and stared back at the window with fearful eyes and slightly erratic breathing. There must have been at least seven butterflies of various sizes resting on the mesh of the window. (Y/n) cursed some more as she tried to calm her heart and felt the throbbing of her wound. Alright, so may haps she spoke to soon. Apparently there was some truth to the horrible scenarios her brain came up with. Luckily, the threat laid outside, she should be safe in here, right? Please? There was a curt knock on the door and (Y/n) turned to see it open to reveal a stern faced girl with piercing blue eyes. “I heard yelling, what’s wrong?” She asked, approaching (Y/n). “Oh, I’m fine I just... stubbed my toe on the bookshelf,” (Y/n) laughed, nervously. “You shouldn’t be wandering around, if you want to heal you should be resting in bed,” Aoi said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re right, sorry. I’ll do that now.” “Right,” Aoi sighed, watching (Y/n) shuffle over to the bed and sit on it. “I’m Aoi, I’ll be helping you recover over the next few weeks. If you need anything let me know, I’ll be back in about forty-five with lunch, then we’ll do some light stretching.” “Alright, sounds good. Thank you, Aoi-san,” (Y/n) said, wincing as she laid against the mattress. Aoi nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Then she walked down the hall to where Shinobu was waiting for her. “Were you able to find out what that outburst was about?” “She claims she stubbed her toe on the bookshelf, but I can’t say I believe it. Her feet looked fine, she wasn’t even near the bookshelf when I came in,” Aoi informed. “I wonder what is going on with that girl,” Shinobu pondered. “Keep a close eye on her, please. Let me know if you find out anything about her odd behavior.” “Of course, Shinobu-sama.”

*** Just one more night, one more night and (Y/n) would be home free and no one had yet found out about her fear. There had been some close calls, one of the more notable being when Kanao came back from a mission with a butterfly clinging to her uniform and then it decided to flutter around the hall. (Y/n) yelled and tried to disguise the sound as a sneeze and then excused herself, claiming she forgot to feed Mochi before bolting off back to her room. She was sure no one actually bought that excuse, but she didn’t really care since no one questioned her about it. Shinobu however, seemed to grow ever more suspicious of her manic behavior so (Y/n) always had to stay on her toes around the Hashira as she would ask seemingly innocent questions, but her eyes were sharp and calculating like she was waiting for some kind of slip up. Needless to say, (Y/n) tried to keep her interactions with Shinobu to a minimum, no matter how attractive she found the Insect Pillar to be. (Y/n) was brought out of her thoughts as another wave of pain washed over her body. She grit her teeth together as Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho painfully stretched her body and Aoi prepared her antibiotic for the day. “Are you sure you don’t want to continue recovery training outside? It’s a beautiful day and you could use some fresh air,” Aoi advised. “Um, nope, I’m good.” (Y/n) squeaked, her arm popped as Naho tugged it back with all her might. “It’s pretty hot, I don’t do well in the heat,” she added, looking into Aoi’s skeptical eyes. “If you insist,” Aoi sighed. “Shinobu-sama will be coming to check you over tomorrow morning before you can leave. She wanted to know when she should stop by your room,” Aoi said, giving (Y/n) the medicine as the younger girls finished assaulting her muscles. “I’m fine with whenever,” (Y/n) shrugged, taking the medicine. She was just so ready to get out of this place. She was tired of flinching every time she saw a butterfly hair clip in the corner of her eye or worrying about the occasional open window or door. She was ready to go back on duty and put this whole thing behind her. All the girls were sweet, and she was happy to have met them, but being constantly on edge was tiring. “Am I good to turn in for the night?” (Y/n) yawned. “(Y/n)-san, it’s noon. We haven’t even had lunch yet,” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “Haha, you’re right, how silly of me,” (Y/n) cringed internally. Well, she had to try. She just felt safer in her room where she had more control over her environment. “Come on (Y/n)-san, let’s eat!” Sumi excitedly called. “We prepared lunch before we started stretching, it’ll be so good!” Kiyo smiled. “Okay, I’m coming,” (Y/n) smiled weakly as the younger girls pulled her in the direction of the kitchen. “She seems excited to be leaving, don’t you think?” Shinobu smiled sadly, startling Aoi with her sudden presence. “I wouldn’t say excited, she seems to be... relieved?” Aoi answered. “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Shinobu sighed, “We haven’t done anything to her, why does she hate it here so much?” “I don’t understand her at all, Shinobu-sama. It’s probably best to just leave her be and send her on her way. Tomorrow we can all go back to normal,” Aoi said. “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Shinobu frowned. “Well, I’m going back to the infirmary. Inosuke is raising hell again.” “Good luck with that.” “Thank you, something tells me I’ll need it,” and with that, Shinobu disappeared from the room.

*** (Y/n) released a relieved breath as her back hit her now closed bedroom door. She had gone to the infirmary to get her stitches removed and was bombarded by a crazed teen in a boar mask that kept demanding a fight. He chased her throughout the estate until (Y/n) finally managed to lose him and circled back to her room. She stood with her back pressed against the door a moment longer with her eyes shut, but they snapped right back open as a voice addressed her from the other side of the room. “(Y/n)-san, good evening. What a surprise. Do you need anything?” (Y/n)’s head jerked up to see Shinobu standing in a thin, shimmery yukata. Her hand poised over a fish tank as goldfish swarmed after the bits of fish food that slipped through her fingers. “Kochou-sama! Sorry, um- I must have gotten turned around. I could have sworn this was my room,” (Y/n) turned and fumbled with the door to try to make a quick escape, but Shinobu was faster and placed a delicate hand over the door, keeping it firmly in place. “No need to rush off, why not stay awhile? I have tea,” Shinobu singsonged. “I don’t want to bother you, it’s getting late. I’ve got that physical exam tomorrow and you probably have important things you need to do-“ “I’m not busy, it’s just a cup of tea, nothing too strainful for someone who has nearly recovered such as yourself,” Shinobu said, guiding (Y/n) to a little table and motioning her to take a seat on the matted floor while she glides to the other side of the table and poured tea into the two conveniently placed tea cups. “Thanks,” (Y/n) mumbled into the cup Shinobu had given her. “You’re very welcome,” Shinobu said, breathing in the aroma of her own cup. “Hospitality is an important value of the Butterfly Estate after all. I hope we made you feel comfortable and welcome here during your stay.” “Oh yes, I think you are all wonderful people. You all take your jobs seriously. I think I feel better now than before I was injured,” (Y/n) answered. “I’m glad to hear that,” Shinobu took a sip from her cup. “I just wish I understood then, why you seem to think you just can’t get away from us fast enough.” “Oh no!” (Y/n) gasped, nearly spilling her tea. “It’s not like that at all, I swear! I’m just- I’m a busy body. I just can’t sit still. I’m just excited to get back on duty,” (Y/n) explained. She was being truthful for the most part, but (Y/n) was also dancing around the major issue that probably brought about this conversation in the first place and it seemed like Shinobu knew it. “Busy body? I never would have guessed what with all the time you spend in your room. I believe Aoi told me you never once accepted her offers to go outside either. Why might that be?” Shinobu asked. “It’s summer, it’s hot! I hate how it’s so hot!” (Y/n) yelled defensively, feeling her back bump against a metaphorical wall with every word Shinobu spoke. “Why are you so interested in what I choose to do with my free time? I’m sure you have plenty of other patients to concern yourself with.” “I’m concerned about you in particular,” Shinobu stated simply. “You don’t need to be. You’ve done nothing wrong, no one has, I’m just ready to go.” “(Y/n)-san?” “Yes?” “I don’t believe you.” (Y/n) scoffed in disbelief, looking at the smiling woman before her. “Well, I don’t know how I could possibly change your perception,” she said, crossing her arms. “You could start by telling me why you are so uncomfortable here,” Shinobu prodded. “Just drop it, please.” (Y/n) sighed wearily. “I obviously don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be leaving tomorrow so there is no point in discussing it.” “So there is something.” Shinobu frowned. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, there’s nothing you can do about it,” (Y/n) assured, placing a hand over Shinobu’s without even thinking about it, then awkwardly she tried to withdraw it. Shinobu caught her hand though, keeping it clasped in hers. “We won’t know for sure what I can do for you unless you tell me. I want to help you, (Y/n)-san.” Why did this have to be so difficult? If only Shinobu knew how ridiculous this whole thing was, but (Y/n)’s pride was too great and she wasn’t going to suddenly drop the truth on Shinobu after all of that so she just shook her head and slid her hand out of Shinobu’s. “I really need to go to sleep, Kochou-sama. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for my exam. Thanks for the tea,” (Y/n) mumbled. Shinobu tried to get her to stay, but (Y/n) left before she could even finish her sentence. The Hashira, frowned and looked at her hand. It still tingled with the feeling of (Y/n)’s calloused fingers against her own. She gripped her fingers tightly to form a fist, a determined fire blooming in her eyes made it clear that this was far from over. “Shinobu!” Inosuke called as he kicked open her door. “I got the girl here just as you asked! I’m getting tempura tomorrow, right?!” “Yes,” Shinobu sighed. “But you better fix my door first.”

*** When Shinobu entered (Y/n)’s room the next morning, she was pleasantly surprised to find the girl was still sleeping. She decided to grab a book and wait for (Y/n) to awaken, but not before opening the window, as it was rather stuffy in the room. As the pleasant breeze wafted into the room, Shinobu moved the desk chair next to (Y/n)’s bed and began to read. Occasionally she would glance up and observe (Y/n)’s peaceful expression as she slept, making Shinobu’s heart flutter unexpectedly but it was not an unwelcome feeling. Shinobu observed a few stray butterflies from the garden flutter aimlessly through the window and grinned as one took roost in (Y/n)’s hair. Her book forgotten, she watched the insect slowly fan it’s wings as another came to rest on the nape of (Y/n)’s neck. The tickling feeling on (Y/n)’s bare neck caused her to stir in her sleep her hand made a move to scratch her neck and luckily the butterfly had the sense to fly off before the hand made contact. However it’s next perch was perhaps worse than the first. (Y/n) exhaled sharply through her nose as an unexpected light, fluttering weight rested just under her nose and on her upper lip. She immediately bolted upright and rubbed at her lip, looking sleepy and befuddled as the butterfly floated just out of her line of vision. “Good morning, (Y/n)-san. Did you enjoy your wake up kiss?” Shinobu chuckled “My what?” (Y/n) blushed, her sleep addled brain quickly becoming more alert. “I must say, you’d do very well here, the butterflies seem to compliment your beauty wonderfully,” Shinobu complimented. “Huh?” (Y/n) squinted her eyes and tensed her body. “...What are you talking about?” (Y/n) asked, as if she was afraid to know the answer. “The butterflies, they float around you-“ Shinobu stopped speaking abruptly as (Y/n) screamed and tore her covers off of her body and jumped out of her bed. Shinobu watched with shocked eyes and her mouth slightly agape as (Y/n) shook and curled defensively into herself as she darted into a bare corner of the room. (Y/n)’s eyes scanned the room and her breathing became more labored as she noticed a large butterfly blocking the door and three sitting on the window sill. There was one on the bed and one fluttering near the bookshelf. “(Y/n), look at me, what’s wrong?” Shinobu asked, trying to make eye contact. (Y/n)’s eyes finally focused on Shinobu and she looked as if she had forgotten she was in the room. “Kochou-san, help me! I- Get me out, get me out!” (Y/n) spoke rapidly, clinging to the Pillar as a butterfly flew in too close for comfort. “Okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Shinobu pulled the girl into her side and ushered her to the door. She met some resistance as they neared the giant butterfly, but Shinobu shooed it away and it sluggishly flew over to the desk. Shinobu opened the door and (Y/n) bolted out and ran down the hall. The Insect Pillar cursed under her breath and ran after the clearly frightened girl. “(Y/n)-san, you’re safe now,” Shinobu called gently as (Y/n) reached a dead end. The girl turned and Shinobu’s heart ached when she saw the fearful expression upon her face. She walked up to (Y/n) and gently grasped her clammy and trembling hands in her own, squeezing them gently. “I um, I think I understand why you wanted to leave so badly now,” she smiled emphatically. “Yeah,” (Y/n) croaked. “No coming back from that. Just, please don’t make fun of me. I know how ridiculous my fear is, but it doesn’t make it any less frightening for me,” (y/n) mumbled. “I’m not going to make fun of you,” Shinobu said seriously. “I mean, it’s going to be very hard not to tease you about it, but I’d never do it maliciously,” she added. “Are you... going to tell everyone?” “I think we can keep this just between us,” Shinobu smiled. “Now, I’d like you to close your eyes for a moment.” “Why?” “A calming exercise. You look like you could use one.” “Okay,” (Y/n) closed her eyes and Shinobu released her hands and instructed her to breath in deeply through her nose for three counts and exhale through her mouth for another three counts and asked her to repeat the exercise ten times. As (Y/n) breathed, Shinobu carefully reached for the butterfly in (Y/n)’s hair and the calm insect crawled onto her finger with no problem. Then Shinobu carefully opened the conveniently placed window and released the butterfly back outside and quickly closed the window and returned in front of (Y/n) with two cycles left to spare. “Can I open my eyes now?” “Mmm, one more thing,” Shinobu simpered. She leaned forward and lightly kissed the tip of (Y/n)’s nose. “There, now you can open them.” “Okay,” (Y/n) squeaked.

*** After Shinobu cleared (Y/n) for returning to duty, (Y/n) changed into her uniform and prepared herself to go back on the road. She thanked Aoi and the others for their help and was about to make her way out of the mansion when Shinobu caught her at the doorway. “How do you plan to leave the estate with those winged beasts guarding the grounds?” She asked, sweetly. “I was just gonna run like hell,” (Y/n) admitted. “I... I suppose I won’t be seeing you again,” Shinobu said. Her words sounding more like a statement than a question. “Probably not,” (Y/n) sighed. “Nothing against you of course. You’re awesome. It’s just, there’s a lot going on here.” “I’m awesome, hmm? Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” Shinobu hummed. “Gee, thanks,” (Y/n) laughed. “I think I might actually miss you. In fact, just meeting you almost makes being dragged here against my will worth it.” “Was that supposed to be a compliment? If so, you aren’t really good at it,” Shinobu chuckled before speaking again. “You know, this doesn’t have to be goodbye. I wouldn’t mind seeing your raven coming around if you ever wanted to send me a letter. I’d return the favor with my own crow of course. “I’d like that,” (Y/n) smiled. “Perhaps we can make plans to meet again on a more even playing field. Maybe then I can see what you look like when you aren’t stiff as a board!” (Y/n) stuck out her tongue and landed a surprise attack on Shinobu’s nose, causing the Hashira to gasp at the Kinoto’s audacity. Then (Y/n)’s lips set into a small smirk. “I’ll be sure to write! Bye, Kochou-sama!” (Y/n) darted out of the door and Shinobu watched as the girl booked it across the lawn and laughed as she nearly tripped before jumping over the fence and out of sight. Shinobu stood there a moment longer as she swiped her sleeve over her damp nose, her eyes trained on the spot where (Y/n) disappeared over the fence. After her nose was wiped dry, she walked to her office to start drafting the first of many letters.

#kny oneshots #shinobu kocho #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #demon slayer oneshots

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thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

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Standards of Performance, Chapter 6: Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3 Link

Finally, I write most of the chapter before the day I’m supposed to post it. This was mostly done on my laptop (which I’m not used to) as we just moved and my PC is barely set up, so forgive anything that looks weird or wonky. As always, I hope you enjoy. I love getting all your kind messages <3 (Also message me if you want to be on the taglist - I suppose I should be better about that!)

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 6, Buckshot and Tequila

Chapter Summary: Events during a new case test your ability to keep your feelings hidden, and a night out takes an unforeseen turn.

Words: 3736

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Turns out, lying to Hotch was easier than you thought.

It helped that you were lying to yourself too, of course - that you pretended your gaze didn't linger on his form whenever he was in your vicinity, that the swell of pride in your chest when he agreed with something you said was purely professional. There were times, though, that the facade was much harder to maintain. The most recent case had been one of those times.

You had been tracking down an unsub abducting children in a rural Iowa town. Three kids had gone missing in the span of two weeks, and after Garcia matched the victimology and MO with neighboring states, it looked to be close to a dozen in the years before that. The case started off rough enough - locals refused to believe it could be one of their own, police resisted the BAU’s guidance, the usual - but it came to a head when a fourth child went missing during the investigation.

Thankfully, the team figured out the identity of the unsub relatively quickly. Reid did a geographical profile of all the locations where victims were taken and found a public health clinic that had branches in each area. Garcia cross-checked the employee records to find that only one doctor had done travel shifts at each clinic during the time the children were taken, and within minutes, you were rushing to his address.

The SUV carrying Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss arrived long enough before yours that by the time you pulled up, they were already kicking down the door and entering the home. The first thing you heard after you flung the car door open was the deafening crack of a weapon firing, and despite your lack of training with firearms, it was apparent that it was not an FBI-issue pistol.

You would never describe yourself as fragile - you couldn't be, not in this line of work. But when you registered the implications of that sound, your knees buckled, instantly bringing you down onto the dusty ground outside the farmhouse. The rest of the team sprinted in, guns drawn. You faintly registered Prentiss yelling inside, then more gunshots, but your head was ringing so loudly from the visceral panic that you couldn’t make out anything specific.

When Hotch burst back out onto the porch, you thought you might honestly sob with relief. That is, until you caught the glint of the sun in the slick, dark blood dripping down the sleeve of his suit.

That was when you puked.

Something about the sight of Aaron Hotchner bleeding felt so wrong that even as you struggled to your feet and stepped over the pile of sick you left in the dirt, even as you got closer and saw the rivulets of blood drip down to his fingertips and dot the wooden floors of the porch, you felt like you were in a dream. Your mind couldn’t grasp the sudden shock of his mortality, that he could bleed, that he could die, even, and he very well might, depending on what vessels were hit. You made it up the steps, only managing to call out his name - his first name - your throat still burning from bile. Despite the chaos of the current moment, he still whipped his head around at the sound of that, as if hearing the name Aaron desperately falling from your lips was more attention-grabbing than the rest of the team gathering around him trying to stem the bleeding.

“It looks worse than it is,” said Rossi, peering through the holes in Hotch’s mangled sleeve. “It was just buckshot, and he barely hit you. Nothing a few stitches won’t fix.”

He turned out to be right, thank god, and later that afternoon, Hotch was freshly bandaged and sitting across from you on the return flight to Quantico.

So, yeah, the “lying to yourself” thing wasn’t going so well at that moment. Hotch was absorbed in paperwork while the rest of the team napped - because of course he was; even being shot didn’t sway his apparently relentless refusal to relax - and each time he winced at the movement of his arm, your vice grip around your chest tightened a little more.

He must have sensed you staring, because he looked up, frown softening slightly as he saw the concern on your face.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he assured you with a half smile.

Teetering on an emotional precipice, too scared to respond for fear of falling over the edge, you went back to your reading. After a few minutes of listening to him write while not turning a single page in your book, he set his pen down and took a breath.

“You were screaming my name,” he said, quietly, despite you two being the only ones awake.

“What?”

“Earlier,” he clarified, “when we went into the house. I could hear you outside, yelling my name.”

You looked at him, incredulous. “Of course I did. I heard the shotgun go off. Clearly,” you gestured at his arm, “I had a reason to be worried.”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, as if you didn’t understand the question. “Dave and Emily were with me. Any of us could have gotten hit. You only yelled for me.”

Oh.

You shrugged. “You’re the team leader. It’s my instinct to call for you when something goes wrong."

It was a lie, and a bad one at that, but Hotch gave you an unreadable look and let the subject drop.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and when you finally made it back to your apartment, you had no plans other than to sleep off the stress of the case and the embarrassment of Hotch calling your actions into question. Garcia, however, wasn't about to let that happen.

BAU-tiful People Group Chat

Garcia: *added You to the conversation*

Garcia: Ok, my lovely children, I know you’re all tired, but I miss your faces, so I’ll see u at Whimsy tonight at 9! Notice I didn’t use a question mark bc it is NOT a question!

You knew from overhearing the team talk that Whimsy was a bar downtown they liked to frequent, but you’d never been invited before. Despite your overwhelming exhaustion, the idea of going out with the team, of finally feeling accepted by them, was enough to make you amenable to the concept. It may have seemed insignificant on the surface, but Garcia adding you to their group chat was the biggest welcome gesture you’d received yet.

Morgan: Only if you wear that dress you know I like ;)

You lived for the day they would realize they were actually flirting with each other instead of just pretending to.

Prentiss: Garcia… you’re killing me… but you know I’ll be there.

JJ: Contacting the babysitter as we speak.

Morgan: Fuck yeah!!! Pretty Boy, you in?

Reid: Can’t we ever go somewhere quiet?

As the group chimed in with various iterations of, “Shut up, Reid,” you hesitantly typed out a text to confirm your attendance. You were excited, of course, but nervous to be the new kid at their favorite hangout. After today's events, though, the desire not to be sober won out over nerves.

You: I’ll be there! Thanks for the invite!

Rossi: Hope you kids are ready for me to drink you under the table, as usual.

Morgan: Eyyy, you KNOW we party hard! See y’all tonight.

____________

Turns out, Morgan was not exaggerating. Not even a little bit. By the time you arrived, 15 minutes late, everyone looked to be at least 3 shots deep. Garcia ran over to greet you, squealing, and wrapped you in a suffocating hug.

“I’m so glad you came! What do you drink? Tequila? I’ll grab the next round!”

You laughed and confirmed that tequila sounded great, and as she scurried off to the bar with Morgan on her heels, you had a chance to look around.

The atmosphere of the club surprised you - it was all glass and steel and modernity, packed with people dancing to something with intense bass - not the low-key joint you’d pictured the team wanting to unwind at. But as you watched JJ, Prentiss, and Rossi cheer on Reid as he threw back a shot, doubling over in hysterics as he coughed and sputtered at the taste, you realized that this place was just loud and energetic enough to keep them from thinking about anything other than work. In that way, you definitely saw the appeal.

“I come bearing shots!” Garcia yelled as her and Morgan made it back to the table. “Grab yours… here we go- whoops! Alright, everyone got theirs?”

She turned to you, grinning behind a pair of hot pink spectacles. “Cheers not ONLY to rescuing four kidnapped children alive, but also to our lovely intern and her first Whimsy outing!”

The team erupted in cheers and you smiled back, downing the tequila. You chatted with the group while Garcia ordered more drinks, and then more drinks, and soon you felt a pleasant buzz filling your head.

“Morgan, you better ask me to dance right now before I go find another man to do the job,” Garcia said with a wink in his direction.

Morgan grinned and mock-bowed, holding out a hand for her to take, and led her off to the dancefloor.

“Should we join them?” JJ asked around the table.

“Someone’s gotta make sure they don’t do anything worth getting kicked out for,” Prentiss shot back. You giggled and followed the girls, leaving Rossi and Reid behind at the table in the midst of a heated debate about childhood brain development that you couldn’t even hope to comprehend.

Not long after you started dancing, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and turned around, looking up into the stunning green eyes of a man who looked to be about your age. It was hard to really tell what he looked like in the dim lighting, but by the way Prentiss was giving you a thumbs up and mouthing, “Go for it,” from your side, he was good enough for you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked above the music. You smiled and nodded in confirmation, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to his hips.

He knew how to move, that was for certain. He ground against your backside lightly, snaking his hands around your stomach. You weren’t used to this kind of thing - dancing with random men at bars, letting them touch you like this - but the combination of the music and the booze and the relief at the last case being over was making you feel more free than you had in recent memory.

You exchanged grins with Morgan, who was dancing a few feet away in a much more R-rated manner with Garcia. The man behind you (whose name you didn’t know, but who cared?) leaned down to kiss your neck and you arched against him in response, reaching up to run your hand through his hair.

Throughout the song, you had rotated back to facing the table where the rest of your team was sitting. You glanced over, saw Reid and Rossi still deep in discussion, along with another man in a black button-up with a very familiar side profile and-

Hotch.

Hotch was here, and as if the powers that be were insistent upon proving to you that the opposite of serendipity existed, at the exact moment you had that realization, he turned and made direct eye contact with you. Drunk, wearing a skintight dress, a random man grinding on your ass, and staring right back at your Unit Chief at the motherfucking Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and if you had been drunker, you might have hurled tequila all over the dancefloor. Instead, you pulled away from the mystery man behind you, ignoring his shocked, “Wait!” and beelined to the bar.

“Tequila. Shot. Please, I’m sorry, just saw someone I didn’t expect to,” you blurted out to the bartender, swearing you could feel Hotch’s eyes on your back from across the club.

The bartender, probably having seen much worse, nodded in understanding and poured your drink. You gulped it down, wiped your mouth, and leaned on the bar to get your bearings.

It’s not weird. It’s not. It’s a bar, it’s outside of work hours, it’s perfectly fine that you’re buzzed and dancing and having fun. Everyone else is!

Really, it wasn’t that you were worried about your job, or even that he would judge you (he probably would, but that was unavoidable regardless of the setting), it was just that you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for the possibility that he would come. He was in the group chat - obviously, if he had seen Garcia’s invite - but had never struck you as the social type, the kind of boss that would interact with his team outside of work.

“Did you see that Hotch is here?” Prentiss asked breathlessly, appearing at the bar beside you.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one surprised.

“I did,” you whispered back, despite the thumping music and the rowdy patrons making it logically impossible for your words to reach the table 20 feet away. “Does he usually join you guys?”

“Never,” she said, before thinking and correcting herself, “Not in years, anyways. When Haley… we used to drag him out, but we stopped after a while.”

“Why do you think he came tonight?"

She shrugged. “Who knows? Far be it from me to explain why Hotch does anything.” An idea seemed to pop in her head, and she grinned. “Maybe it’s because of you!”

“M-me?” Your reaction to the suggestion wasn’t nearly as nonchalant as you’d tried for, but Prentiss was too drunk to notice.

“Yeah, gotta help initiate the intern on her first night out, right?” She grinned and clapped you on the shoulder, then turned away to head back to the dancefloor, leaving you alone. You sighed, gathered yourself as much as you could considering the effects of the tequila, and turned around to go greet him.

“Hey, Agent Hotchner. Didn’t expect to see you tonight!”

“Yes, well. Thought I’d show up for a bit; it’s been a while.” He gave you a tight lipped smile then looked back down at his glass of whisky, the awkward energy palpable.

Probably because he just saw you basically dry-humping some random dude.

“Well, I’m glad you came! Feel free to, uh, come dance if you want! Morgan and Garcia are showing us all up,” you said, gesturing to where Morgan and Garcia were in fact drawing the attention of several onlookers.

He chuckled at that. “They’re certainly a sight to behold, aren’t they?”

You nodded in agreement and headed back to the bar, the brief conversation pointing you towards yet another drink. Talking to him was so easy , sometimes, and others it was like pulling teeth to get a human response out of him. Could you blame him, though? Your last one-on-one interaction was you basically inviting yourself over to his apartment with takeout and listening to him spill his guts about his dead wife and kid, and he probably felt uncomfortable with you after that, and then you went right to this case without any chance for things to go back to normal, and then he got shot, and oh my god, you didn’t even ask him how his arm was doing, how fucking rude can you be, dumbass? and-

“Whoops! Shit, I’m sorry!”

You looked at the person you’d just bumped into in the midst of your internal crisis.

“Hey, it’s you!”

The man you’d been dancing with earlier, now much more obviously handsome in the brighter lights of the bar area, grinned in recognition.

“Hey, I thought I’d scared you off there!”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. Just saw my boss and freaked out a little bit.”

“Oh shit, your boss is here?” he asked. “That’s uncomfortable, damn. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, it’s just… yeah. Anyways. Wanna pick up where we left off?” you asked, more desperate than ever to get Hotch out of your head. If he didn’t want to see you having a wild night, he shouldn’t have come to the club.

He took your hand, looking pleased. “Lead the way.”

It really was so much easier, you thought, to let yourself feel attraction for guys like this. Uncomplicated, willing to take what you give them, no backstory to speak of. They weren’t riddled with tragic history, unattainable in both position and personality, not to mention impossible to even imagine ever returning your feelings. Guys like Cooper (you’d finally learned his name somewhere amid the grinding and groping) were easy and fun and they didn’t keep you up at night agonizing over whether that thing you said at work was impressive enough.

But then again, they didn’t give you the roller-coaster feeling in your stomach that Aaron Hotchner did every time you locked eyes.

And lock eyes you did - an increasingly frequent number of times, actually. It seemed like whenever you turned to face his direction, he was staring you down. He always went back to his conversation with Rossi and Reid, but you noticed that he seemed to get more and more pissed off with every song that played. His frown was deepened, his expression dark, and you could tell even from a distance that his knuckles were white from gripping his glass.

You shrugged it off as Hotch being Hotch - who knew what that man was thinking? And besides, you were trying to forget him, damn it. At least, that was until a particularly raunchy song came on and you were in the middle of getting your ass felt up, when you felt a hand squeeze your shoulder and whip you around, bringing you face-to-face with your boss himself.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is something wrong?” you asked, utterly bewildered as to why he was interrupting you.

He ignored you, instead staring down Cooper, who very quickly decided Hotch wasn’t one to fuck with and walked away.

“Hotch! Is there a case? Should I grab the others?”

He shook his head. “Can you come with me, please?”

Perplexed, you acquiesced (not that you had much of a choice, with the way he was gripping your elbow) and followed him through the crowd, out the back door, and into an alley. He let go of you then, sighing and crossing his arms.

Your mind was wild with questions - did you do something you shouldn’t have? Get too drunk? Everyone was drunk, though, and you weren’t even half as wasted as some of the others. Did Reid or Rossi tell him something bad about you? Were you about to somehow get yourself fired off the clock?

“The boy you were dancing with was bad news,” he said, after an uncomfortably long period of silence.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” you repeated, this time out loud, and you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him like this, but you were too caught off guard to conduct yourself more appropriately.

“He was a drug user,” Hotch said, as if that would explain everything.

“A drug user,” you repeated back, no less confused.

“Cocaine,” he continued. “He was high - his pupils were dilated, he was rubbing his nose, and he's been to the bathroom several times.”

“So… you’re going to arrest him? For doing cocaine?” you asked, still baffled as to what he was insinuating.

“What? No,” he said, “I’m trying to warn you not to get involved.”

You had entered some parallel universe, you decided. There was no other explanation for your boss, a man you’d known all of four months, dragging you outside a bar on a Friday night and telling you not to dance with a hot stranger because he was on cocaine.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you really did get yourself fired. “Sir, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think it’s really any of your business.”

His face hardened at that. “It is exactly my business,” he said, eyes boring a hole through your skull, “to watch out for things that may compromise my team.”

“Compromise your team?” you repeated his words again. “I was dancing, not getting engaged to the guy.”

“Should I allow you to dance with a sexual sadist if it’s just dancing?” he pressed, using the stern voice that usually caused any sort of dissent to whither and die right in your throat.

It didn’t work this time, probably because he was acting fucking insane. “Are you seriously comparing a sexual sadist to a guy who does cocaine while he’s out partying?”

“It’s not just while he’s out partying, by the way he conducted himself, he was a chronic-”

“It doesn’t matter!” you said, nearly yelling now. “You had no right! I'm sorry, what are you, my dad?!”

His eyes flashed at that. “If I hadn’t already had to sit through an 8 hour surgery not knowing if Garcia was going to make it out alive because her date shot her, then perhaps I would have no right. But as it stands, I do. Please be more careful with who you associate with, even if it’s just dancing.”

He spat that last part out, more vitriolic than you’d ever seen him, and stalked back inside. You were left outside in the alley, alone, reeling from confusion surrounding the entire interaction and shock at the emotional charge he’d leveled at you.

Reentering the bar, you saw that Hotch’s seat had been vacated and his jacket was gone. You rolled your eyes, and on your way to the bathroom, nearly ran into Cooper again.

“Hey!” he said. “What was that all about? You good?”

You looked up at his face and for the first time, noticed faint traces of white dust around his nose. He looked keyed up, jumpy - his pulse racing and visible on his carotid. You sighed.

“I’m good. Just not in the mood right now, sorry,” and pushed past him into the bathroom.

Hotch was an emotionally stunted asshole with a control complex, but he was also never fucking wrong.

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wh0reforthemarauders · 3 years

Text

TRYING TO BLEND IN (PART 2)

WARNINGS: cursing??? WORD COUNT: 1500 A/N: I didn't edit this at all (pls keep in mind that english is not my first language) I just wanted to post it today because it's full moon tonight lmao enjoy (hopefully there will be a part 3 some day)

It took Sirius a while to recover from the initial shock. This random stranger he had just met at a muggle campsite minutes ago was also a wizard. What a coincidence it was, and how lucky he was that it wasn't a muggle who saw him use magic, he thought.

Sirius stood still for a few moments, looking around the place, then finally he turned to the boy.

"How come you've never met a wizard before? Are you muggle-born?"

"No." said the boy, and then went silent. Sirius expected a longer answer than this so he decided to keep asking questions.

"Have you gone to Hogwarts?"

"No"

"But you know what it is?"

"I do. But I was homeschooled."

Uncomfortable with the direction in which their conversation was going, Remus quickly changed the topic and suggested taking Sirius's things into his new room and then make dinner for them both. Sirius was curious to find more about this unusual boy but he didn't want to seem rude so he simply nodded in agreement.

The two of them spent the next few days at the campsite together. Sirius had told Remus all about the wizarding world, his best friend James, and their adventures at Hogwarts. He could tell Remus was kind of sad now that he realized what he had been missing out on, but for some reason he still avoided the topic of why he has been isolated from other wizards his whole life.

As Remus had plenty of experience with all things muggle, he eventually taught Sirius to set up a tent and use muggle appliances to make food, but they silently agreed that Sirius was not going back to his own tent. They were simply having too much fun together and Remus felt like he was finally making up for all the years he didn't go to Hogwarts with other wizards of his age.

-------

Ten days have passed and Sirius and Remus still had plenty of topics to go through while they were roasting barbecue in front of their tent. It was a pleasant summer evening, and Sirius had been staring at the darkening sky which was mostly clear, except for a few clouds. Suddenly, he felt the urge to tell Remus the origin of his name.

"Wanna hear a story about how I got my name?" He asked out of nowhere, tapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Sure"

"You see that star over there?", he said pointing up at the sky. "The brightest one..."

As he was speaking, the soft wind blew and moved the cloud which had been hiding the moon. The moonlight instantly brightened the scenery. It seemed almost full.

"Well, although I myself am not quite as bright, as you've had a chance to..."

Sirius cast a look in Remus's direction and, seeing his worried expression, he didn't finish the joke he was about to make. It seemed as though Remus wasn't listening to him anymore. He too was staring at the sky, but not at the bright star Sirius was showing him. He was looking at the moon instead.

Sirius hesitated a moment, not knowing what to say. "What's wrong, have you never seen a full moon before?"

"Oh I've seen it" said Remus scornfully, before shaking his head and getting up quickly. "I have to leave tonight. You better pack your things. We're not gonna see each other again."

Sirius remained on the ground, following Remus with his stare as he hurried into the tent. He was pondering whether to go after him and ask him what's up when Remus emerged with a bag full of Sirius's clothes in his hands. He set it before him and proceeded to pack his own tent into a backpack, when Sirius finally stood up and approached him, grabbing him by his arm.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're just gonna leave me here in the middle of a muggle campsite?"

Sirius stared at him, not understanding the reason behind this sudden change in behaviour. Moments ago they were having a great time, talking about their favourite flavour of Bertie Bott's Beans, and Sirius couldn't imagine what he had possibly done to cause this.

"I have to be alone for a while, that's all." he shook his arm free from Sirius's firm grip.

"Did I do something?" Sirius asked but it was too late. Remus put on his backpack and hurried towards a dark forest that was surrounding the campsite.

Sirius stood still, enraged that this guy whom he had just started to consider a friend, has left him among muggles, knowing how helpless he was without magic.

"Fuckin idiot!" he yelled after him.

A few seconds later, he felt once again the piercing stares of the muggles around him. All eyes were on him and everyone at the campsite must have seen this embarrassing scene. He faked a smile he thought seemed polite enough and sat down to finish his dinner. He was determined to leave the campsite that night and go to James's house for the rest of the summer.

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

As soon as he finished a cigarette that he had lit after dinner, Sirius got up, took his bag and headed through the same forest that Remus had disappeared into earlier that night. Now that he has calmed down a bit, he couldn't think of a reason why he even ended up at this stupid campsite. He could've gone to James's place right after leaving home, and he would've avoided 10 days of ridiculous drama.

It was somewhere around midnight and he was nearing the edge of the forest. The path he was following has now become broader and pebbled. Just as he was passing an abandoned shack hidden behind some trees, he heard strange screeching noises coming from inside. The noise didn't sound human and he was curious to find out what it was, so completely fearless, he walked up to the front door and tried to push them open but it seemed they were barred from the inside. He walked over to the window, peeked inside but it was so dark inside that he couldn't see anything. With an inexplicable amount of determination, fueled by his infinite curiosity, he pushed aside a couple of planks from the already broken window, shattered the few remaining pieces of glass, and climbed up and into the shack.

Instinctively, he took out his wand, performed the lighting charm, and in the light of the wand he could finally see where the weird screeching was coming from.

In the corner of the dusty, cobwebbed room was a curled-up, shaking figure. Who would've thought. The sound was human after all.

Sirius stepped closer with his wand hand stretched out, his step making the floor boards shriek. The figure lifted its head. Sirius barely recognized him in this horrible state, but as distorted and animal-like as his face now was, without a doubt it belonged to Remus.

"Go away, Sirius!" he screamed.

"What's going on?? Why are you here? Do you... live here?"

"Oh for fuck's sake Sirius, how stupid can you be??? LOOK AT ME"

"I'M A WEREWOLF!"

Sirius was still very much confused. He didn't understand what being a werewolf had to do with hiding out in a ruin like this.

"It's full moon! Get away from me! I really don't want to hurt you but so help me god if you stay here for one more minute..."

"...Why would you hurt me?" asked Sirius trying to sound as calm as possible.

"BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT WEREWOLVES DO!" screamed Remus desperately. "We are dangerous! We attack people! We... we hurt them."

Remus was desperately shaking and crying. Tonight's transformation was already very slow and painful and now he had one more thing to worry about. He had completely forgotten to track the days until full moon while he was with Sirius, and he hated himself for allowing to forget what a monster he was. What he wanted most at the moment was to be left alone. He could deal with this by himself, like he always does. He knew he made a mistake. He never should've befriended Sirius. He always scares friends away. But this time, he also risked hurting one.

To Remus's great surprise, however, Sirius didn't seem scared at all. Shocked perhaps, caught off guard, but not scared. He sat on the floor next to Remus, putting an arm around his shoulder, patting him comfortingly.

"It's ok." he said. Noticing that Remus winced as he approached him, he decided to try to lighten the mood the only way he knew how.

"You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to."

Remus turned to look at him, eyes still glossy from the tears.

"You're literally skin and bones, Remus. And I trained Quidditch for 6 years. You stand no chance against me."

At this, Remus's face finally brightened, and he barely managed to suppress a chuckle.

"Come on. I know a place where you can be safe... you know, while you're doing your... wolf thing." Sirius said, standing up and offering Remus a hand to help him stand up. "Remember my friend James?"

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

based on this hilarious post, by @profoundinqq! and written for @mystybloo.

sam looks at his brother, a fast-growing-familiar eye crinkling smile making him look perfectly content as he leans on cas, relaxing his weight against him with an arm wrapped around cas's shoulders. they're all drinking — have been a while, but that's not where dean's smile stems from, and sam knows that. he looks carefree, younger, and so happy, and it's a constant sam's been noticing a while now, though tonight, and lately, it just seems normal.

(that's the thing. it is.)

sometimes sam wonders how it all began.

he's obviously ecstatic it did - honestly, he could think forever, and not come up with two individuals more deserving of such profound happiness, as dean or cas. or the love, abound when they're together, so incredibly obvious, and somehow, almost hope-kindling in a ways.

but it doesn't stop him wondering, right now, at this moment, how they finally ended up taking the leap. facing the music, falling into each other's arms, ending their ridiculous, decade-long dance of pining, confessing.

dean's never volunteered the information, and sam's never felt it urgent enough (or himself, earnest enough) to ask cas - but oh, it's probably been buried in the back of his mind for long, bundled with all the other pleasanter questions about life and living it — and today, it leaps to the front when the empty, green bottle spinning ambitiously under everyone's pointed stares, ends up stuttering to a pause, pointed at his brother.

they're playing truth or dare - a significant percentage of their adopted family present, although only a few remaining cause it's past midnight. they're sitting on the floor in a circle, all varying degrees of drunk - and sam winchester seizes his chance.

"truth or dare, dean."

dean doesn't really hesitate, which is commendable; he just disentangles himself from being draped over his boyfriend, and takes another swig from his bottle. "truth."

"how did you and cas -" sam pauses. his eyes shift to cas, and the angel faintly smiles back.

"- finally grow a pair?" gabriel finishes for him prematurely, leading to sam glaring in his general direction, because it's a little hard to know his exact coordinates at sam's current levels of inebriation.

"we haven't been growing anything." cas says, a hint of humor in his squint but that's about it. "or pairs of things."

"yeah, sammy." dean agrees, though his is not a wooden face. he doesn't pretend to not understand what sam - or well, gabriel, is going for. "me and cas? we're old news."

"you're a blank page." sam frowns, prissy and self-righteous, and somehow pulling off an annoyed little brother vibe on top of that. fuck that, he's the same distance from forty as dean, just the less prone-to-forgetting-the-reasons-he-enters-a-room side. "with a question mark at the end of the headline."

"how did you end up together?"

it's not his best comeback, but dean rolls his eyes — admission of defeat — with no real passion in the practiced habit. "what do you want to know?"

cas looks at dean with a substantial amount of surprise.

"he gave me a pick-me-up, back in hell." dean throws back, before realizing he's earned eye rolls from almost everyone in the room. sam takes it a step ahead, slipping into bitchface territory, as if to remind dean that he gets to ask these questions now - they're over lying about breaking the world to each other, at this point. they have to be.

another eyeroll, and then dean sighs.

"goddamn saps, all of you." he looks accusingly around the room, meeting eileen, charlie and gabriel's twinkling eyes. "fine. what version you want?"

"well, the long -"

"trick question. there's only one." dean cuts him off, with an age-old rendition of a shit-eating grin. if sam can spend his entire life and then some, perfecting the bitchface, at least dean's got this. "so, uh. me and cas."

charlie giggles, but shuts up immediately when dean starts speaking.

"guess we were playing truth and dare then as well." dean frowns. "man, for a bunch of badass dudes and ladies who save the world, we sure play a lot of middle-school games in the afterparties."

"i like it." cas defends, and that's that on that, because dean strokes cas's knee with his thumb and a smile, and they stare until the fork in the conversation is forgotten and sam clears his throat impatiently. (it's gabriel's turn to giggle.)

"right. right, yeah." dean swallows. "well, so it landed on me, and cas asked me to choose -"

"he dared you to kiss him!" charlie guesses, or actually, declares, beaming.

"no, katherine heigl, this isn't a chickflick."

"if you went for katherine heigl, you should've gone for romcom." gabriel inputs, almost serious for a fraction of a second.

"does it matter?" eileen signs, and sam reads her hands out loud absentmindedly, and with enthusiasm.

"dean, would you just say it minus the drama pauses?"

"yeah, instead of being grossly inaccurate in your movie genre references?" gabriel piles on top of it, and charlie nods in sympathy.

"of course you are, but i think i specified your face was." cas points out, and it's the first time he's spoken up, and dean almost blushes for it.

dean pulls a face. "go to hell, i don't have to take this." but he goes on anyway, cause that's dean, isn't it? "just - i chose truth, okay?"

no one breathes for a moment.

"and cas told me i was beautiful."

there's a gasp. probably charlie — but not completely unlikely to be gabriel.

"yeah, 'kay." dean dismisses, though it's mostly directed at the other four (hunter, hunter, nerd, ex-trickster, not necessarily in that order) who've taken to gushing by now. "and that's it. story over. cas messed up, billion year old angel style, and it led me to realize he was the most adorable dork i've ever loved. or like, the only one. ever."

sam, charlie, eileen and gabriel bat their eyelashes in undisguised wonder.

"you're allowed to disperse to your rooms to cry now." dean retorts, and he's about to add more to it considering he's well settled on the wisecrack wavelength, when cas suddenly interrupts.

with an inscrutable, "no."

"no?" dean repeats, eyebrows raised.

there's a speck in cas's eyes, the curve of his lips too whimsical. it's almost un-cas-like, except no, it isn't. doesn't stop dean from staring anyways - eyes falling to the latter's lips, before returning to his eyes.

"dean, i knew how the game worked."

dean frowns.

"i 'messed up' the rules on purpose." and he accompanies it with the fucking air-quotes, so he might sound completely nuts, but it's definitely still him.

"what does that mean?"

there's pin-drop silence.

"you'd call me adorable when i didn't understand aspects of human behavior or games often. and it always made you smile. so at some level, i wanted that, even when i did understand those things. sometimes, i'm compelled to draw the conclusion, i wanted you to think i was adorable." cas pauses, blinks. "that time, it was an added, and wholly unexpected incentive when you decided to give up on trying to explain it to me, and kissed me instead."

"cas -" dean stares at his angel in gap mouthed bewilderment. he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel right now - though it's hard to feel any kind of manipulated, when cas is being this honest about it. alternatively, when it's gotten him the best part of his life. "you lied to me."

"of course i didn't." the bastard has the balls to sound indignant about it. "your face is exquisite."

"stop that." dean swallows, trying to keep himself from getting flustered. "you literally played dumb."

"stating entirely true facts about your bewitching face hardly sets back my intelligence, dean."

a traitor snickers in the background.

dean is officially too drunk to deal with this. he's going to give it more thought tomorrow - that is, if he remembers it at all. right now, what's way more important, is that his boyfriend apparently flirts by pretending to misinterpret rules, and accidentally compliment dean, and that's the most ridiculous thing dean's ever heard, in a life stuffed to the damn brim with ridiculous things.

"you're so fucking weird, cas."

"no, dean. i'm adorable." cas deadpans at him, and dean lets out a high-strung laugh, short, after which he finds himself able to do little else but shake his head fondly. mostly, at the floor, because if he'd been looking at cas, he'd probably also have been kissing him.

"and you agree." sam points out, to dean, and in return, dean snaps up a look pissed off enough for sam to truly feel sated enough by this ordeal, because he shrugs, and eileen sets the bottle spinning again.

nobody protests.

a few chances later, after charlie's rushed off to throw up, and sam and eileen have gone to bed, and gabriel's sort of wandered away at the very least - cas spins the bottle again.

it's just the two of them, so when the bottle points at about forty degrees from straight at dean, they decide to forego asking the lamp in the bottle's true line of questioning, in favor of cas asking dean.

"truth or dare?"

"dare."

"alright, i shall." cas whispers, reaching out to cup dean's face as he kisses him, and pull him closer. and dean goes, obviously not arguing with the concept of cas kissing him, even if he's doing it 'as a dare', in a hilarious, mindboggling, and adorable callback to that time dean realized he was in love with him — because he's a weird ex-angel-who-apparently-understands-humans-now, and also, definitely, the love of his life.

("cas." dean psst's, later in bed, when cas is turned away from him, hugging a pillow with his knees. "truth or dare?" cas groggily turns, "truth." dean breaks into a smile. "will you marry me?" cas freezes for a beat, and then drags dean to himself, kissing him with his eyes closed, still stunned, but no less enthusiastic for it. when they separate, cas's cheeks are wet, and dean feels like he's floating. "you know, sweetheart, we can play the old-fashioned way, and you'd still be the most adorable thing in my life." dean mumbles, kissing cas again, this time on his forehead, and in the same, shared breath, cas breathes out, smiling. "yes.")

#destiel #deancas #destiel crack #destiel fluff #dean winchester #castiel #canon divergence #sam winchester #saileen #charlie bradbury #gabriel #tfw #destiel wedding #truth or dare #bluefirecas #tearsofgrace #rambleoncas #chaoticdean #oh writing my writing

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