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colorsunimaginable · 2 years

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the spare // chapter twenty-one // deatheater!tomhiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord’s triumph, she’s being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance’s greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction Universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 3.8k warnings for this chapter: rape (not of POV character), blood, death, threat of suicide

Notes: A special thank you to everyone on here who's been following this story for a while. It's nice to see the same usernames pop up in my notes every week. So thank you to the ends of the earth.

Also for the love of all that is holy, please check out @enchantedpersephone and her beautiful moodboard fanarts. She's graciously allowed me to post them on ao3 and I've posted them with the chapters that I think they go with (I haven't done that on tumblr bc some of these chapters are already long enough) SO I will be linking them here :)

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-One:

The rain finally stops. After a few days, the ground soaks up what remained of the downpour, and I’m able to sit in my favorite spot in the garden. The sun is out, the birds are chirping, I’m wearing shorts. I brought a book out to read, but I haven’t even cracked it. Normally when I’m out here, I tend to stay to the shadier side of the spot, but today I’m soaking up the sun like the earth did the water.

I had been brave since returning from Malfoy Manor. Since Thomus knows about what Bellatrix did, I’ve stopped wearing long sleeves and hoodies around the house. I’m back to my normal, average t-shirt.

Not that he’s been at the house much. I had drilled him on what happened to Draco as soon as we were alone. But he didn’t tell me anything that he hadn’t already said to Narcissa. He had left immediately after that, back through the fireplace. The only other occasions he’d come back was to shower and pass out in his room.

Hanging out in the garden serves two purposes. The first obviously to absorb what little serotonin I can from the sun, and the second so I can be easily be reached by Sam. I still haven’t seen him since he left to go warn the safehouse in London about the raid. I might be resting on a blanket in the sun, but my ears are trained for a meow from a white cat.

Heavy footfalls on the grass make my eyes snap open and I quickly sit up, squinting in the sun at the approaching figure. It’s Thomus, and he’s carrying a wooden box. I cross my legs and sit up more on the blanket I have spread out, half of it in the shade and half in the sun. Thomus settles next to me in the shade, contents of his box clinking. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he flips open the top of the box and grabs my left wrist, pulling my arm out so it rests partly on my leg and his knee. The condition of the words haven’t changed since he had last seen them. They still look awful.

I peer into his box. The source of the clinking are bottles and vials, the depth of the box obscures the labels of their contents. As he pulls out his wand, my hand sneaks over to grab a vial, but he lightly smacks my hand away, shaking his head. I roll my eyes and pull my hand back.

Face concentrated on my arm, he begins muttering common healing spells. Spells I know that Sam already tried, but I let Thomus continue on anyway. With every reutterance of the spells, his voice grows more irritated. Eventually, he gives up on the them, and pulls out a bottle with Essence of Dittany. He puts his wand down and uses the dropper to sprinkle drops on the lines. When nothing happens, he puts the bottle away and uses his fingers to gently rub it into my skin. It tingles, like it’s trying, but still it changes nothing.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” he asks, frustrated. “These should be working.”

I shrug, my face passive. “You’ve known her longer than I have. Shouldn’t I be lucky to be alive?”

His eyes narrow and he ignores my question. “What kind of knife did she use?” he asks. “It couldn’t have been a Goblin blade, otherwise you’d be dead.”

“How do you know that?” I say, eyebrows rising. “I could’ve sucked the poison out myself.”

“Granger’s new scars are far smaller than yours and yet she still almost died.” He’s almost glaring at me now as he speaks. The sun is reflecting the pink of my hair onto his face.

“You’re right, it wasn’t Goblin blade,” I say, trying to keep emotion out of my voice and face while thinking about that night. I avoid his eyes, looking down at the words. “It was a serrated dinner knife. I was trying to defend myself.”

His long fingers start tracing the scabs, one line at a time, not even missing the extra ones. “That explains the bruising.” His voice is so soft it makes me look up at him, but I look away again when his eyes flicker back up to me. “There must have been a lot of blood.”

I grit my teeth to keep my face blank, and take a few deep, controlled breaths before responding. “There was.” I don’t say anything more.

“Did she say anything while it happened?”

“She might have.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“Because I wasn’t –“ My eyes close, fighting images of that night away. I don’t know why telling him about it is so difficult. “I was a little louder.” When I finally look back up at him, his eyes are narrowed in confusion.

It finally dawns on him after a moment. His expression clears and he looks down at my arm again. “Oh.” Thomus’s gaze turns thoughtful. He looks back into his mystery box. “I’m going to have to reopen the wound.”

My breath hitches. “Why? What’s the point if it’s cursed?”

“You don’t want me to heal it?”

“I just –“ I start, words struggle to come out. “I don’t want to have to relive it.”

He sighs heavily. “That is not my intention. Now lie down.”

“No. I – I’m fine.” I begin to pull my arm back, but he grabs me by the wrist.

“I said, lie down,” he orders louder than my protest. We have a little staring contest before I shakily lie back where I was in the sun, and put my arm in his lap. I know I pictured lying down in the garden with Thomus, but this is not what I meant. His left hand holds the underside of my arm while his right prepares his wand. “Torpere.”

A thin yellow jet of light from the tip of his wand rolls into a ball before disappearing into my skin. It’s a numbing curse. The feeling starts in my forearm, quickly spreading to my hand and upper arm. The whole limb becomes heavy in his lap.

“Can you feel this?” he asks as he pinches my wrist.

“Yes, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good,” he says before casting a non-verbal spell. At the first sight of blood, I close my eyes and turn my head away. The cuts aren’t as deep this time, or at least they don’t produce as much blood as they did before. It feels that way anyway.

Once all of the cuts are open and I start to feel lightheaded, he mutters, “Vulnera Sanentur.” Then I hear clinking as he digs through his box. I open my eyes enough to see him sprinkle more Essence of Dittany onto my skin before wrapping my forearm in a white bandage.

The last charm he utters is Lenio. He taps my arm twice and four opal droplets fall from his wand onto the bandage.

“Did it work?” I ask, flexing my hand. The droplets have already begun to undo the numbing. A gentle, pleasant humming has replaced it. I lift my arm up to look at the bandage in the sunlight. The fabric shimmers with silvery threads. “Is that… unicorn hair?”

“It might still scar, but yes.” He closes the lid to his box. “To both.”

“Must’ve been expensive.” My eyes haven’t left the bandage, watching the way the iridescent colors shimmer and sparkle in the sun. The pleasant humming has quickly spread from my arm to my chest, even my head is feeling it.

“Yes, well, I do have a lot of money.”

The laugh I let out is loud and genuine. It feels so good to laugh I don’t pay attention to how wrong it is. I speak when I can breathe again. “When did you become so good at Healing?”

His tone is dry. “I dual nearly every day and going to St. Mungo’s hasn’t always been an option.”

My arm comes to rest on my waist and I hold my other hand up to shade my eyes as I look at him. He’s frowning at me again.

“What?” I ask, a smile tugging the corners of my mouth. “You’re always frowning at me.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Pretty good actually,” I yawn, stretching my arms above my head and pointing my toes. My whole body is humming now.

His head is tilted as he looks at me. “I believe I gave you one too many drops.”

“Oh, fuck, am I high?”

He chuckles. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

I rest my head on my folded arms behind me. “You know, now that I think about it, it kinda does remind me of something I smoked from the Herbology Department in 5th year.”

“Ilvermorny allows it’s students to get high off a substance from their own department?” he asks, his tone is light now, teasing.

I laugh again. “Nope. No, they do not. Cassidy Jones was a bad influence on me.”

“I can see that.” The smile teasing his face dies as he gazes at me. “We have to make an appearance at Edinburgh tonight.”

The laughter dies from my face as well. I sit up, legs crossed underneath me again. My heartrate has picked up so much I can feel it thrumming against my chest. I practice calming breaths again.

I shrug, looking at the bandage as my arms rest in my lap. “Okay.”

He stands with his clinking box. “It’ll be alright.”

I give him a disbelieving look. “Yeah, okay.”

~*~

From the moment we step foot in Edinburgh, I can feel everyone’s eyes on us. It probably has something to do with the last time I was here. What a spectacle that was. Who knows what other rumors have spread since. Thomus doesn’t seem to feel bothered by it. His mask is in place; his eyes distant and polite.

Thomus does not let me leave his side. Not that I wandered the room much before, but something about how his hand covers mine where it’s hooked into the crook of his elbow feels different. I’d chosen to wear a short sleeve dress this time, since I have nothing to hide anymore. The dress I have on is a pale blue, something that wouldn’t make the bright white of the bandage stand out too much.

We meet up with his American friends. Will stands next to me, smiling, and I give him a shy smile in return. Astor doesn’t make a comment on my appearance this time. Instead he suggests that we move into the Lounge for billiards. As we wade together through the crowd, I notice Thomus is the only one with a girl on his arm. I wonder why Astor doesn’t bring O’Quinn here. It’s good he’s not cheating on her, I guess.

They grab the first green felt topped table that’s empty at the front of the room. I stand next to a supporting column near the table. This way the dancing girls would be on stage behind me, and my eyes wouldn’t involuntarily be drawn to their movements. The guys divvy up into two teams; Thomus and Eric on one, with Kyle and Astor on the other. Will decides he doesn’t want to play and turns a chair facing the stage around to watch the game.

From the way everyone’s behaving, it seems like a normal night at a bar. Everyone seems at ease, except for Thomus. When a Carrow girl comes around with drinks, Thomus initially refuses one, but Astor shoves one at him.

“Relax,” Astor says. With the loud house music, I really have to focus on their faces and strain my ears to understand what they’re saying. “Nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

Astor walks away, and Thomus takes a sip before walking over and handing the drink to me. I look at him in surprise.

“Drink it or not, I don’t care,” he replies to the question on my face. He turns his back and I do drink it – all of it. Anything to calm my nerves. I watch the ice shift around in the glass as they begin their game.

As I watch them play, I quickly realize it’s not the game I thought it was. There aren’t any pockets on the table for the balls to sink into. The longer I watch, the more confused I get. They cheer when they’ve done well or cajole when they’re trying to do better. After a couple rounds, Will stands and comes over to me.

“Have you ever played before?” he asks, leaning close so I can hear him.

I snort and shake my head. “I’ve no idea what’s going on.” My eyes watch as Thomus walks around the table with the cue stick in hand. He leans over the table, lining the chalk end of the stick with the white ball. His eyes flash up to me briefly before he looks back down and focuses on his target. He pulls back to strike and the ball misses.

“Yeah, billiards is played a little differently than pool,” Will says.

“I can see that,” I reply. “My parents got me and my brother a pool table, which was a big mistake because we just hit each other with the sticks. Eventually we’d just shove the balls back and forth like it was air hockey.” Will laughs and I can’t help but smile in return.

After a few moments of watching them play, he asks, “What happened to your arm?”

“Oh, um,” I start, looking down at it. I had thought about what to say if someone asked, but all my excuses seem silly now. A flimsy explanation like falling or cutting myself while cooking just doesn’t cut it when you can heal things by magic. I shrug and look back up at him. “You don’t wanna know.”

His gaze is serious and sympathetic, but he nods. “Alright.”

Clapping makes me look away from his face and back to the table. Eric is patting Thomus on the back. Kyle is shaking his head and Astor is rolling his eyes.

“You’d have to be the luckiest man on earth to get that shot,” Astor says confidently. “No chance you win.”

Thomus has a mischievous grin lighting up his handsome face. He takes his time leaning over an end of the table, looking at Astor as he lines up his shot. He pulls the cue back and he looks like he’s about to release when he straightens.

“You know, Jake, I think you’re right,” Thomus says, leaning on his cue like it’s a walking stick. “I think I could use a bit of luck.” He turns on his heel and looks directly at me, smirking. He leans forward a little bit, brings a hand up to his turned cheek and taps it with his finger. “Come plant one on me, Alder.” He winks. “For luck.”

I blink at him, shocked as fuck. My mouth might even be hanging open.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Come on, darling, we haven’t got all day.”

Chuckling from his friends around the table get my feet to take me forward. Chest heaving, I invade his bubble and get so close I can smell hints of cedar and pine over the cigar smoke. He’s not looking at me as he offers me his cheek. I shift my weight to the balls of my feet and tilt my face up, momentarily distracted by boisterous laughter from somewhere in the room. In the second my lips almost make contact with his cheek, he turns his head and kisses me. I briefly pull back in surprise before his fingers grab my chin and pull me back. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it’s still enough to make my head spin.

“If he doesn’t win now,” Kyle says loudly to Astor, “That’s just gonna be embarrassing.”

When I pull back, I expect his blue eyes to be gazing down at me, but they're not focused on me. The smug look on his face is directed at someone else behind me. I follow his gaze and see Will is leaning on the adjacent side of the column I was at, watching us, an impassive expression on his face. Confused, I step back from Thomus and go to my spot by the column next to Will. To clear my head, I suck on one of the melting ice cubes while Thomus lines his shot up again.

Just as he strikes, somehow miraculously in a gap between songs, I hear glass shattering from a back corner of the room. My eyes land on the source of the noise just as the music picks back up. With a strangled cry, a young woman with bright red hair plunges the broken end of a champagne glass into a man’s neck.

Ginny.

Without really much thought, as the room reacts to the commotion, I make a beeline for her. I ignore my name being called as I shove my way towards her as fast as I can. No one’s paying attention to me so I manage to get to the front line of people surrounding the scene.

Ginny’s just sliced another man’s neck, her face pink and furious. Tears cover her cheeks and glisten under the light over the billiards table she stands behind. Her grip on the bloody glass is tight around the stem as she holds it up to the neck of another man leaning back over the table.

“Get away from me!” she screeches at the crowd holding up their wands at her. Her voice shakes, but her hold on the man and the glass is firm. “Touch me again and he dies!”

“Drop him, child,” a man with dark blond hair hisses from behind a cloud of cigar smoke. “Let the minister go.”

She spits at him. “Fuck off.”

“The only way this is going to end is badly,” the man threatens. “You should know that by now.”

Someone comes up behind me and grabs my elbow. I look over my shoulder at him and it’s Will. When my eyes go back to Ginny, the man she has pinned kicks at her feet, unsteadying her. He shoves her off, her back hitting the wall, and he hurries away. Before the guards and Death Eaters can react, she’s pulled her long hair around to one shoulder, broken glass hovering above her neck.

Something in me snaps at the sight. I slam my platform sandal down hard onto the Will’s instep, shove my elbow into his sternum, and toss the glass along with the remaining bits of water into his face. Before anyone else can grab me, I move away from the crowd, closer to Ginny. Our wide eyes meet each other across the billiards table and I don’t watch where I step, stumbling over the leg of a body splayed out on the floor, blood pooling beneath him. I catch myself on the edge of the table, closer to her than anyone else is.

“Ginny,” I plead, my voice is almost a whisper. My heart is thundering in my chest.

Her face scrunches up, more tears flowing, as she shakes her head.

“Please,” I say, taking a hesitant step forward, around the table. Her heels pop softly against the stone floor as she steps back, almost to the wall. “Please, Ginny, don’t do this.”

She shakes her head again. The hand holding the glass trembles and blood drops onto her skin, sliding beneath her golden collar.

“You don’t –“ she gasps, her mouth dry “ – you don’t know.” Her eyes dart around the crowd watching us. I do the same, my breaths quick and punctuated. My eyes land briefly on Thomus, who’s being held back by Astor and Will. I look back to Ginny as she continues to speak. “You don’t know what they’ve done. What they’re going to keep doing.”

“Of course, I know,” I tell her, my voice firming. I take more steps toward her, my fingers fumbling with the bandage on my forearm as I advance slowly around the table.

Everyone’s about to see and I don’t care. Her life is more important than whatever shame and embarrassment it could bring. Her eyes are fixated on my arm when the words are bared. Thomus had done a good job. The lines were red, but they were beginning to scar now, bruises turning yellow. My voice turns to a whisper as I repeat, “Of course, I know.”

I step over another body on the floor. I’m so close to her now. My hand reaches for her fist clenched at her side. My teary eyes plead with her. “There’s nothing I can say that’s going to make this better, but please. You’re too important.”

Finally, she breaks. A sob tears out of her throat and I pull her to me, one hand wrapping around her. The other pulls the hand holding the broken glass away from her neck, slipping it out of her hand, and I toss it onto the table behind us. Our embrace is tight as she sobs into my shoulder. For a moment, I feel relief.

I lift a hand, about to stroke her hair, when an invisible force pulls us apart. My lower back hits the table before my legs drag across it as I go flying across the room. My back slams into another supporting column, my feet dangling a few feet above the floor.

The man who was talking to Ginny before chuckles. “You’re right, Mudblood, this blood traitor’s far too important to the Dark Lord and his plans.” He’s using his wand to pin her to the wall, then he moves her, bending her face down over the table. “So no lasting damage, I’m afraid.”

Realizing what he’s about to do, a protest tears its way out of my throat. “No!” I kick at the column, twisting and pushing against the invisible force holding me there. “No no no no no.”

The man looks up at me from all the fuss I’m making. He smirks as he presses his hips against her backside and pins her hands to the table.

“Don’t worry, Mudblood, you won’t get to miss anything,” he taunts menacingly before using the freezing charm on me.

I can breathe, blink, and move my eyes, but my limbs won’t move. Horror is frozen on my face as I watch him rip open her dress with his bare hands. Tears flood out and down my cheeks as I instinctually close my eyes.

“Open your eyes!” he commands as she lets out a scream. Terrified that he’ll somehow make things worse, I look at him. His pants are around his ankles, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“You gonna let anyone else have a turn, Avery?” someone shouts from the crowd. My attention goes to the spectators.

“Not this time, Goyle,” Avery taunts breathlessly as my eyes find Thomus. Everyone is facing the table or away, unable to look. He’s the only one looking up at me.

The moment our eyes lock - sound, sight, and feeling fade away as I’m plunged into black.

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txemrn · 3 years

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The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #the royal romance au #the missionary’s daughter #drake walker x oc #choices fanfiction #trr fanfiction #liam x riley

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

Cake By The Ocean | frat!Chris Evans x reader

summary: fraboy au. college parties. beach shenanigans. blame @ballyhoobarnes

warnings: fingering, mention of oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, verryyy light dub con if you squint??

shitty moodboard provided by me c:

Chris was the worst thing about mixers, hands down.

Honestly, you hated everything about mixers. Your sisters were at their most annoying, magically transforming from educated, classy women into the most desperate of ‘pick me’ girls, clinging onto any Zeta guy they could get their hands on. What bothered you wasn’t that they flirted with the guys, it was that they dumbed themselves down to do so. That plus an overcrowded house, shitty drinks from plastic cups, and having to clean up everybody’s mess the next day, and you really just did not want to go to another co-ed event.

But Katie M. and Katie B., the sorority president and vice president respectively, decreed in their all-knowing power that every soror must attend five night-time events a year and you had procrastinated so hard that you had to attend every single one in May to avoid getting kicked out. The scholarships were too good to lose.

That didn’t mean you had to mingle, though; you were happy to hide in a secluded corner and look like you were doing something important. In this case, it was stacking and unstacking cups. Hopefully nobody watched you long enough to notice that you weren’t actually helping set up the drink table.

But of course, he had to show up. He had this instinct where he could sense you minding your own business and enjoying your life, and he just had to appear and annoy you.

“Hey,” Chris’ voice wafted to your ear from behind you. You felt his hand slip onto your waist loosely. That was all he had to say to you? ‘Hey’?

You ignored him, mainly because you had absolutely no idea what to say.

“Bein’ cold isn’t gonna keep me away,” he informed you, leaning in closer.

“Do you have any other suggestions then?” you frowned.

His mouth was so close to your ear now that you could smell the booze on his breath. “Been thinkin’ about you. I know you’ve been avoiding me. But it hasn’t made me forget.”

“Me either, sadly,” you groaned.

“I know you get wet when you think about it,” he purred. “I betcha think about it at night, remembering how good it felt to just let go--”

You spun around and pushed him back. “Chris, everybody makes mistakes. Like when the Nazis invaded Russia in the winter. Or when your mom decided to keep it after your dad put on the condom wrong. Or, worst of all, when we got drunk and had sex over half a year ago. It’s okay! Accidents happen. But it’s best to leave them--” you rested your hand on his shoulder, giving your best comforting-but-stern look-- “in the past.”

“The best mistakes are made at least twice,” Chris grinned. “How do you think I ended up with a little sister?”

In spite of your desperate attempt not to, you cracked a smile. At least he could take a joke.

“Go enjoy the party,” you suggested, “talk to any of the other girls-- I bet a lot of them will find your offer more appealing.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them,” he frowned, “I wanna talk to you. You’re interesting.”

“And they’re not?”

“I would never diss your sisters,” he raised his arms, “but you’re definitely my favorite Delta.”

“You have strange taste,” you shuddered.

“That I do,” he nodded wistfully, “that I do.”

You were cooped up in your room, surrounded by open text books and uncapped highlighters. A final on Monday meant you needed to prepare all weekend. You didn’t even look up when you heard a knock on your door; you just called out that it was open so they could come in.

“Good news!” Katie B. beamed as she popped her head around the door. “Zeta invited us to a beach party tomorrow!”

“Why do you think that’s good news for me?” you wondered, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“Uh, because away events count for two night-time events in your attendance calendar?”

Ehh, you didn’t need to study all weekend, right?

Hoping to get your boost on your attendance record but disinterested in actually participating in any meaningful way, you decided you were going to tan, mainly because it utilized two of your greatest talents: laying down, and doing nothing. After a hefty layer of sunscreen was applied to whatever your bikini didn’t cover, you settled in on the little rubbery chair with your over-sized sunglasses and some bluetooth earbuds to jam with.

The sun warmed your skin until you felt so relaxed that you honestly considered falling asleep. Thankfully your earbuds blocked out the sounds of Zeta-Delta partying down the beach, even when the volleyball game got a little rowdy.

Sadly, you were pulled from your relaxed state when a shadow blocked your sun, and you hesitantly opened your eyes behind the dark plastic of your shades. Squinting, you saw his tattoo first, and you knew it was Chris come to taunt you.

“You’re blockin’ my rays, Evans,” you frowned.

He spun the volleyball in his hands, smirking playfully. “I came over here to ask if you wanted to play. It’s shirts vs skins.”

“Let me guess, you always play skins?” you quipped, quickly scanning his muscled torso which was so cruelly exposed. Did he have to look so good? Did it have to remind you of the way those muscles flexed as he was thrusting--

“Unfortunately for me, I bet you always play shirts,” he chuckled, interrupting your train of thought just in time. “If no volleyball, how about a swim?”

You pulled out your other earbud and put them back in their case, realizing he wasn’t going away any time soon. “Chris, tell me, what is it that makes you think I want to be anywhere near you? Seriously, tell me, so I can stop doing it.”

“Sure, right now you’re acting pretty icy,” he explained, kneeling down in the sand beside your chair, “but I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me… when you got on your knees for me…”

You wanted to interrupt him but your throat was suddenly too dry, and your thighs were clenching together.

“When you begged me not to stop…” he continued, leaning closer, his hand grabbing your knee suddenly, slowly trailing up your thigh.

“Chris,” you whispered, just under your breath-- but it turned into a gasp when his arms wrapped around you and he picked you up. “Put me down!” you yelped.

“I think you need to cool off, babe,” he grinned. “A little water might do the trick, huh?”

Your screams of protest were lost to the wind as he started running, effortlessly carrying you to the water’s edge.

Soon, he was knee-deep and you were pulling yourself up into him as you tried to avoid the water. “I swear to god if you drop me,” you began.

“I won’t, okay?” he assured, slowly calming down as you let your legs hesitantly reach past the water’s surface. It was cold at first, but then it was relaxing against your heated skin.

As he set you down in the water, his arms naturally slid to your waist, and yours to his shoulders. And then you were looking up at him and it felt way too right.

“Um, the… the water feels great,” you mumbled.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a low, husky voice, “yeah, feels amazing.”

Those words in that voice brought back some specific memories.

He was so much taller than you that when you were doggy-paddling to stay afloat, he could still walk somewhat normally. But you didn’t expect him to walk behind you, or wrap his arms over your torso.

“Chris?” you gasped a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed, placing a soft kiss to your ear, then your neck, “you don’t want anyone to hear you. Then they might look over and realize what we’re doing.”

His hand moved lower, over your stomach and finally to the top of your bikini bottoms. You shivered, biting your lip as you tried to process everything that was happening.

“Tell me you want it,” he requested, his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I know you do but, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want it,” you whimpered, “please. Touch me.”

You felt his smile against your neck as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, instantly finding and teasing your clit. Your hips bucked a little, disturbing the water around you. He rubbed it so softly that you would’ve thought you wouldn’t be able to feel it at all, and yet somehow it was making your entire body jolt with pleasure.

“Calm down baby,” he chuckled, “don’t act strange or somebody will see. And we all know how much you want everyone to know that you want nothing to do with me.”

You whimpered a little, but realized that a small group of Deltas was about to walk by in the water.

“Act natural,” Chris instructed softly, knowing that the water would obscure what you were doing, but you’d forgotten what natural even meant.

“Hey guys,” Parvati smiled, and Gia waved at the two of you.

“Hello ladies,” Chris greeted back with a nod of acknowledgement; you sheepishly smiled and waved, trying to ignore the way Chris’ fingers were moving against you.

You figured they would question why you were sitting on Chris’ lap in the water, but they were oddly accepting of it. Maybe they were just wondering what took you two so long.

The second the girls were out of earshot, swimming further into the water, Chris started moving his fingers even faster.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he chuckled darkly, “getting fingered in front of your friends.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” you defended.

“I distinctly remember you begging for it,” he teased, quickly pulling you a little lower into the water so he could grope your breast. He reached under the triangle of your bikini to get a better feel of it, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moaned softly.

“Feels good?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “so good, fuck…”

You instinctively tried to push his hand away as your orgasm approached-- it was too much, too strong, and you weren’t sure you could take it. He’d learned to keep going anyways, otherwise you’d never get off. And damn if you didn’t secretly love the way that he was too strong to push away.

“Go ahead,” he purred, “let go. Come for me, babygirl.”

You bit down on your lip as the pleasure reached its peak and crashed, your body spasming as he held you close with his free arm. “Chris, I’m coming,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned, “keep going.”

With his fingers still rubbing firm and fast on your clit, you honestly thought you could scream. Instead, you grabbed his arm like your life depended on it, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Stop, stopstopstop,” you pleaded for mercy, and he granted it as his hand slipped from your bikini bottoms. “God, you wear me out,” you sighed with exhaustion.

“That’s the goal,” he smiled.

You moved your hips back only to feel the hard shape of his cock pressing into your thigh; you grinned.

“Well, I should probably leave you to your volleyballing,” you announced, standing up and starting to walk away.

“Wh-- I can’t play like this!” he protested, noticeably staying crouched in the water-- you knew that with what he was packing, he had no chance of hiding his boner in those tight swim trunks. Plus, when they were wet, they would probably cling to it so tight that little would be left to the imagination… why were you salivating all of a sudden?

“Just act natural!” you encouraged him as you continued to walk towards the shore.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines #chris evans x y/n #chris evans headcanons #chris evans rpf

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

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FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER 4: SET, MATCH

Written by @jeranasblog and Kinkybeanlien

Moodboard by @jeranasblog

The rest of the week in Austria goes by surprisingly smooth. Then... The Charity Gala.

Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided nemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst.

Smut tags (some for later): Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

Read Set, Match on AO3!

When Peter woke up the next day, he scrambled out of the bed as fast as he could, scaring Tony awake too. Memories of the night before flooded back, shading Peter’s face a bright hue of red. He hid in the bathroom for an hour. His reflection in the mirror couldn’t stop staring back at him and he had to take an ice-cold shower, hangover be damned. When he finally gained the courage to walk back out again, Tony had already left for breakfast. Peter joined Tony and his friends but opted to only give them a polite greeting. He kept quiet for the entirety of the breakfast and he was quietly thankful no one brought up his… loose lips. For lack of a better word. That day they all went up on the mountain together. The perks of skiing and snowboarding were that you didn’t really have to talk with anyone. Just wait up for each other a bit further down. And since Peter was often last to catch up, the others would be ready to leave again. It did mean it was absolutely exhausting for Peter. Where the others would get a short break every now and then, Peter had to keep going in one big breath. He wouldn’t even dare to dream to keep up with Harry. The way he went down the slopes was impressive. He took jumps, went off-piste for little bits, and if the slope split in red and black, Harry would always take the black, steep pistes. Lunch at Seppi’s was the greatest reward Peter could’ve ever gotten. He was burning calories at a rapid pace and it didn’t matter how fit he was, his legs hurt and his stomach was growling with the need to be filled. He devoured the Kaiserschmarren like it was his last meal on earth. He even ended up helping Harry down the last of his gigantic plate of spaghetti. Occasionally, he hid behind Harry when some other people would recognize Tony and ask for a photograph. Peter was honestly glad Harry was part of the group. Having someone his age around meant he could talk about stupid, inconsequential things. Like memes. After a while of having his full attention on Harry, Peter felt a warm hand envelop his shoulder. He turned around only to meet Tony’s gaze. The look on his face was tight. Worried… Jealous? “You look tired.” It was a simple comment, yet it somehow held a massive amount of gravity. The man had kept his voice down and Harry already turned to answer his father’s question. One that Peter didn’t hear now that Tony was suddenly so close to him. Peter’s shoulders fell and he scoffed with a nod, avoiding eye contact by staring at his empty plate. “It’s hard to keep up.” “You’re doing incredible for a first time on the mountains, you know that right?” Peter felt Tony’s hand squeeze and pull, urging Peter to look his boss back in the eye. Tony nodded once, the expression on his face a serious one. “Right?” He repeated. Peter managed to smile slightly. He didn’t know what to think of Stark’s piercing eyes resting on him. No, shooting right through him. “Right.” Peter’s reply was breathless and his eyes flicked down to watch how Tony licked his lips, feeling his own part to mindlessly mirror Tony’s movement. Peter blinked twice and shuffled away, forcing his eyes on the drink in front of him. He barely caught Tony’s little smirk. “I think Pete’s done for the day,” Tony said, louder, at the group. “What?” Peter’s eyebrows raised. “Come on, kid, anybody can tell you’re exhausted. It’s okay to take the afternoon off.” Tony patted Peter’s shoulder before smugly leaning back in his seat. If those ski shoes weren’t that chunky and heavy, Peter was sure the man would’ve crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. “Fine, fine-” Peter sighed. “I need a nap. I’ll take the afternoon off if you promise you go spend time with your friends. Not me.” “Deal,” Tony replied quickly, causing Pepper to let out a soft snort. “He’s lying,” she chuckled. Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know.” … Peter and Tony made their way to the Dorfbahn after lunch so they could have a nice walk back to the hotel. Tony arranged for their ski gear to be brought to the hotel by an employee of the gondola. The employee wasn’t very keen at first, but when Tony offered him a - likely too - generous amount of money, the refusal turned to agreement. Peter and Tony casually strolled over the forest path on the other side of the river, towards the hotel. When they were almost halfway, Peter finally found the courage to say something. Though, he did quite enjoy the silence he spent with Tony. The man somehow had something calming about him. It was almost tranquil. Still, things would have to be addressed anyways. Better get it over with fast. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I-” “Oh, you remember?” Tony looked at him surprised and Peter decided to just keep staring at his gigantic moon boots kicking through the snowy paths. “You thought I didn’t?” “You were quite drunk, Parker.” Tony let out a soft laugh and Peter sucked at his teeth with frustration. He should’ve just not said anything. “I… gotta say I was a little scared you thought I’d taken advantage of you when you ran off into the bathroom.” “But you didn’t.” Peter hid his nose behind his shawl and raised his shoulders. “I didn’t.” Tony stretched out, taking a big breath and watching the air condense in front of his mouth. “I’m better than that.” After a few more steps Peter felt like jumping into the rough river rushing next to them when Tony continued talking. “Did you mean it?” “Mean what?” It was a futile attempt at postponing his answer. In reality, it made it even harder to answer what Tony said next. “That you would like me to overwhelm you?” Tony said it so casually, it ached Peter. “Call me, y’know. That.” They both knew what Tony was talking about. Yet, it didn’t matter whether he addressed it like this or if he would’ve just said the actual word. It was still incredibly embarrassing. “I was drunk.” His voice is weak. Unreliable. “Very much so.” Tony put his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders, looking up at the clear sky. “People say things without a filter when they are, though.” “Well, I…” Peter didn’t have the right words to counter Tony’s. His brain couldn’t think of anything to defend himself, actually. “You’re using that very filter right now.” That was enough. Peter quickened his pace, overtaking Tony and leaving the man behind him. Stunned. “Hey!” Tony chased after him and grabbed Peter’s shoulder, forcing him to stop and turn around. Peter hated himself for feeling his eyes water. He hated how Tony noticed and seemed worried. He hated this… Strange feeling in the bottom of his stomach. Whatever it was. “It’s okay. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t talk about it. It’s all good. You get to sleep in your own bed again tonight.” “What if I don’t want to?” The words left his mouth before he could think them through. Tony’s stunned look shifted to an amazed one. “Then… Then you can stay.” His voice was low, words slow. “Do you want more? More than just sleeping, I mean?” Peter pulled back and hid his face behind his hands. “Yes? No! I don’t know. Not yet. I just-” “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Peter felt two gloved hands pulling down his scarf and cupping his face. He opened his eyes and his gaze met Tony’s. His warm, deep brown eyes captivated Peter immediately. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me. Or with yourself, or whatever you’re struggling with right now. There’s… Honestly not much I can say or ask of you, especially since you’re here for me, but… would you protect me from my nightmares again tonight?” Peter could only nod slowly. He held his breath. Tony gave Peter an encouraging smile and let his clothed thumbs caress Peter’s jaw. “No funny business. Just two fake boyfriends on a trip to Austria.” The man leaned in with a smirk. “And there was only one bed.” Peter sniffed once and then chuckled, pretending to gasp. “There was only one bed-” Peter repeated, faux-surprised. Tony knew how to break the ice. And he for sure just broke the news to Peter that he knows about fanfiction. And Peter made the mistake of confessing the exact same thing with his reply. “And if you do want to sleep in your own bed, you can go right ahead. No strings attached. No expectations or obligations.” Tony let go of Peter and held out his hand to him. “Deal?” “Are you lying again?” Peter asked cheekily. Tony grinned and waited for Peter to shake his hand. “This time? Definitely not.” Peter smiled up at his boss and nodded, wrapping his fingers around Tony’s palm and giving him one firm handshake. “Then deal.” … The next two days flew by. Peter had permanently moved into Tony’s room… Their room. And it felt right, sleeping next to him. The man had this natural warmth about him that got Peter through the night more easily and Tony admitted he slept better with Peter by his side as well. It was strange. They still weren’t actually together, but it all blended so easily. Peter didn’t even feel like he was acting at the dinner table anymore. He was having fun. With Tony. They talked until late at night about all kinds of things. Fears and dreams. Childhoods and futures. Being over halfway through this vacation felt like a weight on Peter’s shoulders. There was always this lurking fear that Tony would drop him right after the vacation, like he promised he would. Was this a promise he intended to keep? Or would Tony have changed his mind? Just like Peter did? He wasn’t sure. It was the day of the big celebration gala. The Charity Event. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. The party was planned for the evening and Tony had his sights set on a full day of relaxation for both of them. After visiting the hotel saunas, Tony had booked a couple’s massage session. Peter had never gotten a massage in his life before and he was looking forward to it. His muscles needed a break after skiing every day and he couldn’t imagine anything better than spending a relaxed afternoon in the hotel spa, especially since Tony was going to be with him. All the massage tables were empty because everyone was up on the mountains, and Peter was thrilled to be alone with Tony and their masseuses, savoring the moment of silence. Peter did his best not to stare at the billionaire, dressed only in a thin towel, but he couldn’t stop himself from getting a small glimpse. Tony’s body was amazing, muscular and strong, unbelievably fit for a person his age, and Peter had to stop himself from drooling. They were in a public space, no time for an inappropriate boner. When they finally laid on their stomachs, Peter could relax. His face was turned towards Tony and he could see how the other man smiled when he was looking at Peter. He felt calm, enjoying the time he could spend with the billionaire. The hands on his back did wonders for his muscles, kneading his flesh and working every knot out of his body. He felt loose, all the tension leaving him, and his eyes fell shut. The masseuse did excellent work, finding every spot that hurt and treating it until Peter was a puddle of goo. When she worked at a particularly tense spot, digging her fingers in until his muscles finally relaxed, Peter couldn’t stop a loud moan. It echoed across the room, too loud to go unnoticed. Peter died in embarrassment. His eyes open, looking directly into Tony’s and he could see a feral look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, staring at Peter like how a predator stares at his prey and Peter had never seen such raw hunger on his face before. The look made him clench, his mind providing him with pictures of Tony massaging him, wandering lower and lower until… He stopped his own thoughts and shuddered, struggling with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, that was highly inappropriate in the situation. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t even know to whom he was apologizing, but he could feel himself blush, turning his head away from the billionaire. “Don't be embarrassed, I know it feels good.” Tony’s voice was filled with understanding and something else, something darker. "M-m sorry, I can't hold back-" "Don't worry.” The masseuse destroyed the mood and Peter wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. “Happens to everyone. Feels good when the muscles finally relax.” Yeah, it did, but it felt even better when a certain billionaire was looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive afterward. There was no way he could survive this vacation without jumping him. Peter was screwed. With each passing day, with each flirtatious smile, his self-restraint was crumbling more, and it was only a matter of time until he would give in. Peter tried not to look at Tony during the rest of the massage, kept his eyes closed and focused on controlling his body’s reaction. He was worked up; every sound of the billionaire made him struggle. When the massage was finally over, he didn’t even know anymore whether he was relaxed or even more tense. He just wanted to go to their room and take a long cold shower. One more touch, one more word, and Peter would break. … “Stunning as always,” Tony mumbled as he stood behind Peter once again. The young man was staring at his reflection in the mirror like he did before, but this time he did hear Tony creeping up on him. “Thank you.” It wasn’t more than a whisper. Peter’s eyes shifted to Tony’s in the mirror. His gaze was intense. They’ve been in this exact position before and it has Peter quietly wonder where this was headed. “I haven’t changed yet, though.” Peter was wearing the simplest clothes. A pair of sweats and a plain white T-shirt. He figured that was the most comfortable to wear for the few hours of downtime he had in the hotel room. Peter found out he actually liked studying himself in the mirror. How the lines of his body flowed and changed with his movement. He used to be unsure what to think of vain people. That it’s shallow to ogle at yourself that long; to like yourself and the way you look. But now that it was Tony’s clothes that were hugging his body, he caught himself staring at his reflection more often than not. “Maybe that’s why…” Tony sighed his reply as he pressed himself into Peter’s space more. No touching yet. “May I?” Peter released a shaky breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He nodded slightly, allowing Tony to press against him. His body was warm and pleasant and Peter felt himself melt under Tony’s touch when his arm creeped around Peter’s waist to hold him tight. Peter’s jaw tensed when he felt Tony’s hard on. Was this actually happening? Tony’s beard scratched the skin of Peter’s neck as he gently rubbed his chin back and forth. They kept their gazes locked together as they felt the tension rise. Their pupils dilated more and more at the realization that things might escalate sooner rather than later. “More?” Tony whispered into Peter’s ear, confirming Peter’s thought process. Goosebumps spread over Peter’s entire body and he shivered. Yes. Yes, he wanted more. More than anything. He nodded again and Tony hummed disapprovingly. “Tell me you want more. I want to hear you.” “Please,” Peter gasped quietly. “More?” Tony hummed again, a little louder this time. The sound vibrated through Peter’s body and went straight to his cock, which was already visibly growing harder in the sweats. The mirror left nothing to the imagination. Neither did the sweatpants. Peter couldn’t contain a soft moan when Tony’s rough beard was replaced with soft lips. Tony’s grip on Peter tightened and he squeezed into Peter’s skin through the white shirt. “So good,” Tony whispered, suckling at Peter’s neck. “So pretty...” That did it. Tony broke Peter. Peter ripped himself free from Tony’s tight arms and turned around to jump him. He pressed their lips together and wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist. The man immediately grabbed Peter’s ass to push the two of them flush together and he stumbled back to sit them down on the bed. Peter ground himself down into Tony’s crotch and moaned audibly when Tony’s tongue entered his mouth. The billionaire’s strong hands helped Peter rub against him, squeezing the student’s ass in the process. Peter whimpered and whined and moaned and he pressed his eyes shut with embarrassment. “I- I can’t hold back-” He heard himself say, thoughts hazy, repeating what he had said during the massage session earlier that day. “Don’t.” The word shot through Peter like a missile. The filthiest noise he’d ever made, escaped his lips, straight into Tony’s mouth. The man groaned back and grinned. “Jesus, kid, you’re perfect-” Peter’s fingers tangled in and pulled at Tony’s hair. “For you,” Peter gasped between kisses. “Wanna be perfect for you-” Suddenly, Tony pulled back and stared at Peter wide-eyed. There was a crooked, open-mouthed smile on his face, eyes filled with wonder and amazement, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. That this was real. Peter felt the same. “Well, then…” Tony’s voice was low and dark. Hot. “I got something for you.” He pushed his hips up, making Peter moan again and press back down. It felt so good. He whined softly when Tony stood them up, placing Peter’s feet on the floor. Peter felt dizzy with pleasure as the man guided him to the living space, hand resting on his lower back as he did all those days before when they pretended to be together. Were they still pretending? Peter wasn’t sure, though, he also wasn’t sure if he cared about that right now. There was a flat, white box on the coffee table. A deep red ribbon held the box and the lid together. “I-” Tony stuttered, which surprised Peter. The man never seemed shy, yet now… “I bought it the night you got drunk.” Tony took a slow breath in through his nose and Peter could literally feel the arousal drip from Tony’s words. “I wasn’t sure about the size, but given that I’ve already bought you so many clothes, I’m guessing I got it right.” Peter turned his head to look up at Tony with big eyes. Tony smiled down at him and patted Peter’s ass twice, causing the young man to buck his hips and whimper. “Go on, open it.” Peter hated walking away from Tony’s warmth, but he complied anyway. He shuffled towards the table, swaying his hips a little more than necessary for Tony to stare at as he went. His fingers curled around the sturdy material and he lifted it, looking back at Tony for reassurance. The man smiled kindly and nodded once. Right as Peter lifted the ribbon to pull it loose, there was a sudden knock on the door. Both men were startled, but one quick glance at the clock on the wall had Tony swear under his breath. “The stylist is here,” he huffed, heading for the door. He pivoted on his feet to give Peter one last look. He nodded at the box. “Do with that as you please. We gotta get ready.” Tony left Peter in the living space by himself, dumbfounded and horny, gift in his hands. Did… Did that just happen? When he realized what almost went down if they didn’t have that stupid gala to go to tonight, he yelped quietly. With the white box still in his hands, he hit himself in the head two or three times before pressing it against his forehead. He opened his eyes when he heard the contents shuffle inside. Peter took a slow deep breath in and only half paid attention to Tony talking to the stylist in the hallway. He then made a break for it, rushing into the room that used to be his at the beginning of the week to open Tony’s gift and see what’s inside. … Peter was buzzing with excitement when he walked through the crowd of the Stark Charity Gala, Tony right beside him. He could feel the hand of the billionaire pressed against his lower back, could feel his warmth through the layers of fabric. It would be a lie to say he had calmed down since the little make-out session, Peter could still feel the lingering arousal in his body. He was overly aware of Tony’s presence, overly aware of the lingerie he wore under his expensive suit. Being shown off by Tony, dressed in clothes the billionaire had picked out for him. It made Peter feel owned and cherished, a heady feeling that made him a little dizzy. “You look beautiful, baby,” Tony whispered into his ear, his lips slightly grazing against his skin. One look in the billionaire’s eyes was enough for him to see the hunger, to understand Tony was as riled up as he had been the entire evening. The word ‘Daddy’ was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to shout it, wanted to scream it while he was getting fucked by the billionaire, but he swallowed it down at the last second. He blushed in shame when he realized how close he had been to saying it out loud. “God, sweetheart, you are teasing me,” Tony growled softly, his hand tightening against Peter’s back. The billionaire’s voice gave away how turned on he was, although his face remained blank, a fake smile for all the guests. “When I bought you the lingerie, I thought you would wear it for me, not everyone else in the room. Baby, you make me a little jealous.” Peter stared at him with wide eyes. How did he know? He had changed into the set when he was in the bathroom. “Oh, Pete,” Tony’s chuckle vibrated through his body. “I can see it through your shirt. It’s not really clever to wear black lingerie under a white button-down.” Peter’s gaze wandered lower, fixed on the light gleam of black which was visible under his shirt. Suddenly, he felt himself getting hot, felt how all his blood rushed to his face in humiliation. He hadn’t thought about it and now not only Tony but a hundred people, no, a hundred strangers, would see him in lingerie as well. “Don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” Tony reacted immediately as he saw Peter’s discomfort. “Nobody is going to think it’s lingerie, could be an undershirt as well.” Peter was still skeptical, but he relaxed a little. Tony was probably right, there was no reason to panic. “Tony,” a cheerful voice stopped his misery and a man in a military suit approached them. “Long time no see.” Immediately, Tony’s fake smile turned into a real one. “Rhodes, how are you? Glad, you could make it. Can I introduce you to my boyfriend? Peter, this is Colonel Rhodey, my best friend.” “Nice to meet you.” Peter shook his hand; glad they were meeting a friendly face for once. “How come I heard about your relationship from the media and not yourself?” Rhodey tried to look stern but failed. Tony saved himself in his usual joking way. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to scare him away. Peter is a keeper.” He pulled Peter tighter against his side and the student felt himself blushing. Again. Soon, Tony and Rhodey were absorbed in their own world, trading stories from when they were younger, and Peter retreated himself. He liked the Colonel, liked listening to him, but he wanted to give these two men some time alone to catch up. Peter excused himself with a smile, giving the billionaire a quick peek on the left cheek before he disappeared into the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Eventually, he found Pepper and his husband. Pepper and Marcus were greeting him with a hug. “Hey Peter, you met Rhodey yet?” Marcus handed him a glass of champagne that tasted quite nice. “Uh yes, Tony is actually chatting with him right now.” The blonde woman laughed loudly. “Oh boy, you won’t see either of them for the next hour. They can’t be separated once they didn’t see themselves for a few days. Joint at the hip.” Peter chuckled slightly, but he didn’t care. Tony was a good man. He deserved to have good friends and if that means leaving him alone for a few minutes, Peter would gladly do so. “So, tell me, how do you like Austria?” “It’s amazing. The landscape, the hotel, even the food. Have you ever tried homemade spaetzle before?” Apparently, Pepper had because they spent the next half an hour talking about food and Austria, and even though Peter had to pretend to be Tony’s boyfriend, it had never felt as real as it did right now. He relaxed, less afraid to screw something up, and for the first time, he could truly enjoy spending time with Tony’s friends. A few minutes later, Rhodey joined them. “Where did you leave Tony?” Pepper asked jokingly. “Was someone able to separate you two?” For a second, the Colonel pretended to sulk before he grinned at the woman. “No, he had to do his duty. Talk to some guests, convince them to donate. It’s still a charity event, Peps.” “I’m going to look for him.” Peter downed the rest of his champagne and placed the empty glass on the table. “Can’t let him walk around alone before someone might snatch him away.” He winked and earned some laughter while he turned around and searched for Tony. It took him a few minutes until he found his boyfriend and when he did, Peter froze. He had imagined a couple of scenarios. Tony flirting with an old lady, convincing her to donate a part of her fortune, Tony joking with some golfer friends or even Tony arguing with someone who didn’t respect the LGBT+ community as equal. However, Peter was confronted with a woman instead, a woman who was clinging at Tony, her arms wrapped around his biceps and he could see the billionaire smile. His boyfriend. No, his fake boyfriend. Peter could feel tears rising in his eyes and he clenched his fists out of anger. His nails pressed down into his skin, leaving marks on his palms, but he didn’t care. It hurt. He watched how she was flirting with him, how he was smiling and not pushing her away. Everyone could see them, everyone could see that she was touching his boyfriend, fake or not. Pain mixed with humiliation and he could see a few pitiful looks from the crowd fixed on them. Peter imagined he could hear their thoughts. “Poor boy could only keep him for a few months. Of course, a college boy from Queens couldn’t tame a billionaire.” The first tear spilled over, running down his cheeks. He could see her leaning over to Tony, her gaze fixed over the billionaire’s shoulder, looking directly into Peter’s eyes. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break down, but he couldn’t stop the tears either. He felt a hand on his back, could hear Pepper’s voice in his ears, even though he couldn’t process a single word she said to him. The woman who had been flirting with Tony smiled at him, crude and hateful, before she placed her hands on Tony’s chest and pressed a kiss against the billionaires lips. Peter’s world stopped. He felt numb, his blood rushed through his veins and his heart pumped faster and faster. His whole body started to tremble, and the last barrier broke, hot tears spilling from his eyes. Peter wanted to run away, wanted to hide somewhere safe, preferably in his bed at home. He waited a second, wanted Tony to move, to push her away, but the billionaire wasn’t doing either of it. God, it hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore. Peter turned around, fighting his way out of the room, the pitiful faces blurring in his vision. He couldn’t hear Pepper crying out Tony’s name, couldn’t hear Tony crying out Peter’s name, the laughter of the woman ringing in his ears. The only thing he could focus on was how to get back to their room, to pack his things and fly back home, even if it meant spending all of his money on a ticket. When the door of the gala hall closed behind him and the voices were dulled by the wall, Peter broke down completely, sobbing while he climbed up the stairs that led to the penthouse. His steps were quick but uncalculated. He nearly tripped a few times, but he didn’t care. His clothes felt heavy on his body. No. Not his clothes. Tony’s clothes. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off his body.

36 notes · View notes

willexxmercer · 3 years

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Fic Masterlist

WIPS

Felix Culpa

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Varrick is the intimidating boss at Varrick Global Industries, and Zhu Li is his ever dutiful assistant. When Varrick is faced with being deported back to the Southern Water Tribe, he makes a split second decision that affects both his and Zhu Li’s lives.

Riptide

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Everybody Wants to Rule the World

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Things I Almost Remembered

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Something About the Sunshine

(Game of Thrones) (Sansa x Theon) (T) (moodboard)

Three years ago, it was a simple summer beach romance. Now, Sansa is navigating a rocky relationship with Joffrey, and Theon is trying to break out of Ramsay’s iron grip, and they barely remember each other, at least until circumstances throw them back together.

They Picked Us

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Ocean’s Roar

(Game of Thrones) (Sansa x Theon) (T) (moodboard)

Sansa begins her latest research expedition, not realizing it will lead her to possibly one of the greatest scientific discoveries of her career.. and turn her personal life upside down.

Camera Flashes and Magazine Covers

(Julie and the Phantoms) (Julie x Luke) (T) (moodboard)

During a trip to Hollywood for a music competition, Julie meets rock star Luke Patterson, completely by chance. After spending time with him, she starts to realize he might not be the jerk she thinks he is, until an interview changes all of that.

Luke has the chance of a lifetime, to land a movie deal, but there's one catch - he needs to stay out of the tabloids. Meeting Julie Molina, the one person in the world who isn't obsessed with him, complicates things.

A Juke AU based on the 2010 Disney Channel Original Movie Starstruck

Completed Multichapter Fics

N/A (yet)

Completed Oneshots

The Laundromat

(Glee) (Kurt x Adam) (G) (1399 words)

After losing a bet to Rachel, Kurt has to visit the Laundromat to do her laundry for her. Thankfully, Adam surprises him and keeps him company, despite the fact that they have a date that night.

Zhu Li Doesn’t Dance

(Legend of Korra) (Varrick x Zhu Li) (G) (515 words)

Zhu Li doesn’t dance, except when Varrick convinces her to.

The In-Laws

(Legend of Korra) (Varrick x Zhu Li) (G) (1094 words)

After his marriage to Zhu Li, Varrick faces the biggest challenge of his life… meeting the inlaws.

Roleplaying

(Legend of Korra) (Varrick x Zhu Li) (T) (461 words)

Zhu Li tries to spice up her married life with Varrick, except he doesn’t seem to notice.

Nobody Does It Like You

(Legend of Korra) (Varrick x Zhu Li) (G) (808 words)

While trapped in prison, Zhu Li and Varrick enjoy some tea, and have a certain moment…

I’m Here

(Once Upon a Time) (Emma x Killian) (T) (1899 words)

Killian thought he was going to lose her to that ice cave, and now that he has her back, he isn’t about to leave her alone.

A Little Help is Easy to Find

(Glee) (Kurt x Adam) (G) (817 words)

Kurt vents to Adam, and Adam offers a solution.

Iced Caramel Latte

(Once Upon a Time) (Emma x Killian) (G) (3191 words)

The coffee shop was his safe haven, so when it was disturbed by a group of students, he was rightfully offended… that is, until one girl sticks in his mind.

Changes

(The 100) (Harper, minor Harper x Monty) (G) (1113 words)

Harper and Monty’s fling results in the action girl’s body going through some interesting changes that are very much not welcome. Yeah, she’s not happy with the idea at all.

A Leaf on a Breeze

(The 100) (Harper & Echo, minor Bellamy x Echo, Spacekru) (G) (3232 words)

Years later, Echo realized something in hindsight. She should have known that of course it would have been Harper, the girl with so much heart, who reached out first, and she was forever grateful for it.

Or, Echo feels alone on the ring, and Harper is the one who brings her out of her shell.

I Love You a Latte

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo) (G) (4044 words) (moodboard)

Echo didn’t do Valentines Day… until she did.

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo) (T) (Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings) (8480 words) (moodboard)

It’s Purge Night and Echo gets stuck in more ways than one. Over, and over, and over again.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

(The 100) (Harper x Roan) (G) (2804 words) (moodboard)

She was drawn to him, and his presence helped her during what could have been a nightmare.

Or, Harper, the Girl Under the Floor, finds someone she hasn’t seen in months while being chased by an Azgedan warrior.

Hello Mr Blake

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo) (E) (4143 words)

He was a frequent flyer due to his job. She was a flight attendant who always seemed to be working on his flights. Eventually, joining the mile high club just seemed like the right thing to do.

Sail into the Moon

(The 100) (Raven x male!Luna, Spacekru) (G) (5867 words) (moodboard)

After an accident leaves her unable to sail, Raven hated the thought of being close to the water. Her friends somehow managed to convince her to go to the beach with them, though, and there she met the most attractive guy… except she might have met him before. Who knows? It’s a mystery.

Burn

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo, Spacekru) (T) (2886 words)

Bellamy wakes up in the lab, only to find that the Lightbournes are planning on injecting Echo with Nightblood as a test.

Not Goodbye

(Dynasty 2017) (Steven x Sam) (T) (2112 words)

With Sam feeling a bit down, Kirby takes it upon herself to plan a date that he won’t forget.

The Butterflies

(The 100) (Octavia x Lincoln) (T) (4383 words) (moodboard)

It was as though the universe kept trying to tell her something. Every time she felt the butterflies, it was because of him, and him only.

oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do

(The 100) (Octavia x Lincoln, Blake Siblings) (G) (2085 words) (moodboard)

“You shot him?” “Not fatally, but it was a good distraction.” “You’re developing quite the habit.” “I guess I have.”

What if Bellamy had made the right choice back in season 3?

where the love light gleams

(The 100) (Murphy x Raven) (T) (7664 words) (moodboard)

Raven hadn’t been home for Christmas in four years, but the one year she did, she met Murphy, new in town since she had last been there, and learns a very important lesson about the holidays.

We’ve No Place to Go

(Once Upon a Time) (Emma x Killian) (G) (3520 words) (moodboard)

While making a last minute trip to Storybrooke for Christmas, Emma and Henry come across a number of problems… including one very attractive traveler.

On Sister My Sister

(The 100) (Blake Siblings) (T) (5754 words) (moodboard)

After years of estrangement, Octavia waltzes back into Bellamy’s life and helps him take down one of the biggest drug rings in New York, all while making all his friends think they’re in a relationship. Lovely.

Gunning for Glory

(The 100) (Bellamy x Gina) (T) (5119 words) (moodboard)

While on a routine mission for Kane, Bellamy comes across a mystery girl who points him towards a treasure trove that might prove useful for Arkadia, but danger lurks up every spiraling staircase. It may just be the distraction he needs, though, to get over Clarke leaving.

like dust behind the wagon

(The 100) (Harper x Monroe, Spacekru) (T) (Major Character Death) (5470 words) (moodboard)

Harper and her family were in search of a better life in Oregon when tragedy struck. She didn’t think she would ever recover, and then she met Monroe, a lone traveler looking for a ride to Fort Bridger.

In the Middle

(Harry Potter) (Harry x Draco) (G) (1178 words)

Draco and Harry attempt to navigate their two worlds as their relationship continues.

make a wish (count to three)

(The 100) (Murphy x Emori) (T) (5485 words) (moodboard)

In Alpha City, anyone who isn’t a Prime, the top tier of society, is claimed by a factory to work for a meager living at the age of 18. When Murphy is selected for the factory overseen by the mysterious Alie, he thinks life might finally be getting better…

if you choose to fly

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo x Raven) (M) (5498 words) (moodboard)

It’s always been the three of them, for as long as she can remember, and she’s happy. Bellamy kisses her forehead and Echo raises a hand to her cheek, reaching across and pressing a featherlight kiss to her lips. A week later, she finds herself missing the tranquility of the moment.

Or the origin story of Raven Reyes.

Promise

(The 100) (Luna & Octavia) (M) (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death) (4974 words) (moodboard)

During the Conclave, Luna and Octavia find themselves in another version of Polis where vampires have been terrorizing what’s left of humanity.

Strawberries and Cream

(The 100) (Octavia x Niylah) (E) (3015 words) (moodboard)

Sure, Niylah Keene was freaking gorgeous, and every time she passed her in the hallway, her throat went dry and she had to quickly duck into her apartment before she did something she would regret, but would Octavia admit she had a massive crush on her new neighbour?

No. The answer was no.

time has brought your heart to me

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo) (E) (9309 words) (moodboard)

High up in the mountains that towered over Eden, where the snow swirled around in the wind, lived the last pocket of elves in the kingdom. When Echo made the journey to the ground to spy on the humans, she had no idea that her story was only beginning, and that the man she met would remain in her heart for centuries to come.

warm me baby

(The 100) (Miller x Bryan) (E) (2012 words) (moodboard)

When the heating system on the Ark goes offline, Miller goes to check on his boyfriend… and then they end up in Bryan’s private quarters with nowhere to be for an indefinite length of time.

Reality Check

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo, Spacekru) (T) (2204 words) (moodboard)

It wasn’t real, she kept reminding herself.

Except it was real. Bellamy had kissed her.

Or Echo tries to cope with the fact that her relationship with Bellamy might actually be real (and Spacekru knows more than they let on).

Healing AIs, Healing Hearts

(The 100) (Octavia x Raven, Raven & Echo) (T) (Major Character Death) (8989 words) (moodboard)

Raven and her mother were a perfect team, working with damaged and mistreated AIs and tech. When tragedy strikes, however, Raven has to figure out how to make it on her own. And then there’s that new assistant her mom hired, making things interesting.

talos bless us

(The 100) (Space Sisters) (T) (5358 words) (moodboard)

When Bellamy gets himself captured by Imperials, sisters Raven and Echo plan the ultimate heist to break him out of a closely guarded fort, aided by a dark elf and a khajiit.

until the next, my beloved

(The 100) (Luna x Raven x Roan) (T) (2798 words) (moodboard)

Luna and Roan set off to find the legendary city of Eden, where it is said there is gold stretching as far as one can see. As Raven cannot come due to her blindness, Luna takes it upon herself to keep sending her updates on their journey.

Onwards

(The 100) (Spacekru) (G) (2033 words)

Echo makes the ultimate choice: does she fully transcend or does she take a chance to live out the rest of her days with the ones she loves the most?

Upwards

(The 100) (Echo x Raven) (G) (1692 words) (moodboard)

She had always been there, Echo realized. She was her home.

it was only a dream?

(The 100) (Spacekru) (T) (3726 words) (moodboard)

It’s just another ordinary day on the Ring until someone points out that it’s Halloween. That’s when things get weird.

de omnibus dubitandum

(The 100) (Lexa x Josephine x Echo) (M) (3740 words) (moodboard)

After vampires took over the world, the Hunter Association was the only thing that stood between the creatures of the night and the rest of humanity. Lexa, commander of the association, was determined to bring the world to a better place, no matter the cost.

And then she met Josephine Lightbourne.

a new and glorious morn

(Game of Thrones) (Sansa x Theon) (G) (10358 words) (moodboard)

He needed a date to the Yule Ball. She needed a fake boyfriend until after the Yule Ball. Seems simple, right? At Hogwarts, nothing is that simple.

nice and rosy and comfy cozy

(Once Upon a Time) (Emma x Killian) (T) (5263 words) (moodboard)

Four times Princess Emma is helped into a sleigh by a nameless naval officer, and one time she goes on a sleigh ride with him and learns his name.

bound to be talk tomorrow

(The 100) (Echo x Raven) (E) (4074 words) (moodboard)

When Echo gets a call to clean up some broken glass in a cabin at the resort on Christmas Eve, she meets Raven, a girl who’s just had her heard broken. Things get spicy when they get snowed in for the night.

Drummer Boy

(Julie and the Phantoms) (Alex x Willie) (G) (1777 words) (moodboard)

Alex has the perfect gift prepared for Willie for Christmas, but his nerves keep getting in the way leading up to the big day.

toward brighter days

(The 100) (Raven x Luna) (T) (5067 words) (moodboard)

Dear Harper,

I am ridiculously out of it this morning. Last night, when we reached the campsite, Luna suggested we give Echo her own bedroll, since she gave hers up the night before. Which meant Luna was sleeping with me. Beside me.

Excerpts from Raven’s journal as she travels to Polis for the Winter Solstice Festival

when life gives you shit, you make kool-aid

(The 100) (Bellamy x Echo) (M) (12017 words) (moodboard)

Bellamy used to have it all, and then one screw-up cost him his career and his fancy life. Now, working as a bodyguard for alcoholic businessmen and their families, he gets a call from his sister for a job… escorting a hitwoman to testify against a man convicted of crimes against humanity. What could possibly go wrong?

your package has been delivered

(Julie and the Phantoms) (Julie x Luke) (G) (5688 words) (moodboard)

Julie was pretty sure she didn't order guitar picks. Luke most certainly did not order monster slippers. Clearly, the delivery driver mixed up their houses. But, delivering packages to each other becomes a ritual, and the fact that they each can't get the other out of their mind? Surely, nothing will come of that.

i feel in my heart the start of something new

(Game of Thrones) (Sansa x Theon) (G) (2823 words) (moodboard)

Sansa isn't feeling New Year's Eve so she hides and reads. And then she (re)meets Theon, and shares a few moments with him, making her night that much better.

never meant to leave unsaid

(Julie and the Phantoms) (Gen Sunset Curve) (T) (3760 words) (moodboard)

Reggie goes to a band rehearsal after a rough day at home, only to find his bandmates equally on edge. When tensions rise, he can't handle it any more.

Reggie runs.

#my masterlists

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acastleintheair · 5 years

Note

Multiples of 4

Interesting choice there. I respect it.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

lmao I was actually a problem child in elementary school. like I could do the school work, but I was also always hella bored so I stirred some shit and my teachers were not happy with that. so they appreciated my intelligence, but not my energy.

8. movies or tv shows?

probably movies. I didn’t really watch tv for a long time and I didn’t have any sort of streaming service so movies were the only thing I’d watch.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I’m super great at picking names for playlists. Like sooo great. I probably listen to ‘The Morning One’ the most since it’s my alarm playlist, but I’ve been listening to ‘The Old Favorites One’ and I always go back to ‘The Upbeat One’

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

I have a lot of pain in my knee and hip joints so a lot of sitting positions hurt for long periods of time. I’ll cross my legs if I’m sitting ‘properly’ but if I’m just sitting on my couch, I put my back to the armrest and sit with my legs bent a bit.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notebook or laptop. Notebooks are great for helping me focus and sink into my writing, but I mostly use my laptop because it’s easier to just start writing on it and I can rearrange my writing if necessary without too much trouble.

24. favorite crystal?

hmmm. probably prasiolite. it’s very similar to peridot (my birthstone) in color.

28. five songs to describe you?

this is a difficult question. there’s three songs that immediately pop into my head but I don’t talk about two of them ever because they make me cry. The third is Silence by Marshmello. Another four are: You’re Not There by Lukas Graham, Tear It All Down by Ed Prosek, Wonderland by Natalia Kills, and Oblivion by Bastille

32. top five favorite vines?

tbh I didn’t know what a vine was until last school year. I’ve seen some since then but I have zero favorites because I remember none of them other than ‘this bitch empty’

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

uhhhh probably a pepe meme?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

my schools weren’t that interesting? I remember in my high school there were ridiculously high ceilings in the main hallway and someone managed to throw a hall pass and get it stuck there. it was up there for a few years. I wonder if it’s still there.

44. favorite scent for soap?

floral usually. I have this gardenia and white peach hand soap that smells heavenly.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I want to say cranberry because I’m bitter and no one likes me, just like cranberries. but that’s not true. so maybe mango. starts out sour and bitter but gets sweet with time.

52. favorite font?

I do all of my writing in Times New Roman. all other fonts are invalid. for moodboards tho, I like to use Glacial Indifference.

56. favorite tradition?

hmmm. I really love all the church traditions, they make me feel so at peace. I also love that name day celebrations are bigger than birthday celebrations for my family. I haven’t liked my birthday in a long long time.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

being in a fantasy/action/adventure anime could be cool and fun, but also that sounds like a lot of work. I’d probably like being in a slice of life anime like My Roommate is a Cat more.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I didn’t really go on the internet as a child! I probably used youtube the most (to listen to music videos because I didn’t have an mp3 player for a long time).

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

watermelon jolly ranchers for a very long time were the worst to me. watermelon anything is usually Bad.

72. worst subject?

in high school, it was art. I love art, but I’m not a good art student. in college, probably linear algebra. that class was so boring.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

I was a very picky eater as a child but I adored potatoes and I still love them so any and all potato foods are dear to my heart. I eat chips most often because they take zero work, but Greek roasted potatoes are amazing and my mom’s fries are also very nice.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

jewel tones!!! give me that emerald green and ruby red, they’re gorgeous.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I had both, but I was more of a barbie fan tbh

88. your greatest wish?

my biggest unrealistic wish is to major in english and become an english professor. my more realistic wish is to grow out my hair so it’s very long (but still healthy).

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

sunlight > lamps > fairy lights > overhead lights. no other ranking is valid.

96. desktop background?

#marvelousvasili #ask games #jokes on u i love ask games #i love attention #long post

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lesbian-bookworm · 5 years

Note

answer all those aesthetic asks 😌

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself?I WAS SINGING YESTERDAYfairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?IF I WILL EVER HAVE A WIFEdaisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?I GOT INTO COLLEGE1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?MY ADOPTIONmatte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? PROBABLY NOTblack nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?NO I DONTpantone: describe a person close to your life in detail.????moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood?NOstars: when did you last cry in front of another person?A WEEK OR SO AGO INFRONT OF A GIRL NAMED ANGELAplants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them.MY FRIEND ANGELA BECAUSE SHES THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD STARGAZE WITH ME (AND I HAVE A CRUSH ON HER EVEN THOUGH SHES STRAIGHT)converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?NOlace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?A FEW DAYS AGO, WITH ANGELAhandwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?I WOULD SAY I LOVE YOU TO MY MOMScactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes?THEYRE FINEsunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally."IF WE WERE MEANT TO STAY IN ONE PLACE WE WOULD HAVE ROOTS INSTEAD OF FEET"oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?AGAINST ALL ODDS, AN DEAF LESBIANS STORY OF ABUSE, FOSTER CARE, AND OVERCOMING HARDSHIP.overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars?SAVE IT, I HATE THIS QUESTIONcombat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?I AM TOO GOD DAMN FORGIVINGwinged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self.I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS SO THE SHORTENED VERSION WOULD BE WORRY LESSpastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?PUNKtattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain.I WANT TATTOOS BUT IM NOT TOO KEEN ON PEIRCINGSpiercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?NEVERbands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way.I DONT KNOWmessy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.STOP BEING FUCKING ASSHOELS TO EACH OTHER, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL YOU ARE ALL FUCKING HUMANS NOW BOND OVER THE SIMILARITIES AND LET THE REST FALL AT YOUR KNEES. cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel.NONEgrunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?I HAVE NO IDEAspace: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?A TORNADO DISASTER ZONE IS PROBABLY CLEANER white bed sheets: what is your night time routine?WORK TILL I FALL ASLEEP, WAKE UP ON THE LAST OF 12 ALARMS AND RUSH TO CLASSold books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to knowI IDENTIFY AS NONBINARYbeaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?DARK BROWNeyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?MOMOTHER MOMANGELAMY GAY FRIEND JACOB11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.I WOULD WISH TO ALWAYS HAVE THE EXACT AMOUNT OF CHANGE I NEED FOR ANY GIVEN CIRCUMSTANCE NO MATTER HOW MUCH IT ISI WOULD WISH THAT MY PARENTS HAD THE BACKYARD THEY WANTED, COMPLETE WITH GARDEN, FIREPLACE, AND ALL AND I WOULD WISH FOR THE ABILITY TO SUCESSFULLY STUDYpainting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up.I WANT AS RAVEN FROM TEEN TITANS ONE YEARlightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?I DONT DRINK OR DO DRUNGSthunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?KILLstorms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why?SOMETHING WITHOUT LYRICSlove: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love.NOclouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?I ALREADY HAVE REALLY SHORT HAIR, IM A FUCKING BUTCHcoffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?IF ITS IN SEASON, SALTED CHARAMEL MOCHA IF NOT THEN A PLAIN COFFEE FRAPPACHINO (WITH COCONUT MILK SINCE IM LACTOSE INTOLERANT)marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?MY PARENTS OR MY HEARING AIDS

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magicalsalamander · 6 years

Text

Aurelius [Prologue]

Pairing: BTS Namjoon ⇆ Reader

Genre: Werewolf | Fluff | Angst | Smut [later] |

Summary: When the daughter of the secretary for the Minister for Wolf and Canine relations is the last living member of her clan, she must find a way to avenge her family. She must find a way to put an end to the hunters whose sole purpose is to cleanse the world of werewolves. The golden one hasn’t forgotten. Will she be able to get the revenge she needs?

Words: 8.7 K

Warnings: Rated Mature; Explicit themes, action/ violence, blood shed, torture, death of characters (minor), and graphic depiction. This is not true though series, only this part for context.

A/N: Orig post: 01|15| 2018; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe. Thank you @ratedtae for the moodboard.

| Masterlist | Next ⇾

Only the ghost of the red-violet torch light painting the depressingly dull cobblestone walls gave me indication I didn’t give into the darkness. My first associations with that light were brief when the Neanderthal like men dragged my father, my grandfather and I into this cell. The oxidized iron liquid that I used to call mine painted the wall behind me and my very own dress. It was like my once champagne peach dress was now dipped in a marbled brown and burgundy dye solution and rung out sloppily. The spaghetti straps no longer supported the once proud collar of my dress but hung lifelessly at my sides. The only thing left at my side now. The cold, almost wet, cement floor and the cobble stone walls were the only thing supporting me up now. Gashes, slashes, and broken ribs left me immobile with only my eyes making the major movement. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe, but I still had the fight in me. Almost cruelly, I still had fight in me.

I couldn’t hear well out of my right ear anymore just a high pitched constant ringing. Though clearly in my left ear I could hear a set of two heavy boots trail down the hall towards my cell. My grandfather remained unconscious in the opposite corner of the cell with his back facing me. If my senses proved me right, he’s left us a few hours ago to a better place. I only stared at the men dressed in black clothing with leather ascents who stood across the uneven, iron bars of the cell. What was the most sickening about them was the pelt that still carried the head of the wolf on the shoulders of their cloak. The faces of my people.

I growled lowly in my throat challenging these men to come close to me. They laughed and shoved the uneven bars of the cell door with their mudded boots open and stepped into the cell creating a half moon around me. I remained still as possible monitoring their movements cautiously with my eyes. The only reliable sense I had left. The center one with a grey wolf around his black cloak crouched down to my level. He took my chin between his calloused thick hands and brought my face up to look at him. His yellowed teeth showed behind his grime smile. His unkept long, brown hair fanned over his face only making his appearance more menacing. You’ve heard the verbal stories passed down through generations from your grandparents about these men. The horrific things these men did. The hunters.

He licked his chapped, thin lips before speaking, “It’s such a shame a pretty doll like this is such a filthy little bitch. If she wasn’t such scum I would’ve taken her to my bed. Sadly, for you my dear, my Lord calls for you.” He dropped my chin roughly and shoved a blacken, muslin bag over your head and tightened it with a string. I couldn’t see where they were dragging me, but I tried to mesmerize the turns we were taking but it was hard when your feet were scrapping cement. My feet weren’t used to such rough terrain, instead accustomed to running through grass, soft dirt, and the fuzzy carpet of my home. I missed home.

In fact, I was just there a few hours ago! A day ago? I’m not really sure how much time has passed honestly since I’ve been in this cell.

It was Sunday and my family held a monthly dinner to take a moment to celebrate life and being a family. I was sleeping in late that day when my mom came in the room and shoved open my curtains that block out the harsh noon sun. I enjoy the sun, just not when I’m trying to sleep. I grumble knowing that this is the end, the end of my precious slumber. Without warning she jumps on top of me and tickles me leaving me no choice to get up to stop her. I swear my mother never grew up, she’s more like a big sister than a parental figure. “Y/N, its Sunday. You know what that means?” I grumble under the covers while my mother leans her head into the covers to get a better listen. “Your grandparents are coming in from the North. They took a train here this morning and will be arriving around 5pm. You know how hard it is for them to travel so get up and help me. Get dressed first, wear something nice nothing casual Aure! We don’t have a lot of time!” I sneak a hand out of the blanket and wave it to her and give her an okay sign. She pats my butt in understanding the shaky promise and leaves the room.

Aure obviously wasn’t your name. I liked the name though, but my mom thought my legal name fit better. It just had this flow to it that was so…me, or so she insists. Before I was born, my dad went to Spain for a study abroad program for college and stayed with a Spanish family. He was taken into the family like one of their own during his stay. The wife/mother of the family taught him things his family lacked and found a new family in them. He grew very close to her and years later back at home when he found out he was going to have a daughter he wanted to name her after that woman. Her name was Aureliana (but your family found it simpler to call me by Aure). He asked her before he left if her name held a meaning and she said it meant golden and an emperor from Rome bared that name; more realistically her mother wanted her life to be golden like the word itself. My mother had decided on her children’s name as long as she could remember, so it left your father little room to argue. He found a loophole and called me Aure as a nickname, because I am as precious as gold to him.

I went to shower first before I swung open the French doors to my closet. I didn’t have many party dresses, but the ones I did I took care of. It was Spring, so I went with my champagne-peach spaghetti strap short dress that set just above my knees. It was pastel enough to match the new turn of the season, but comfy enough to maneuver in. Comfort comes first after all with clothing. I sat at my white vanity that used to be my grandmothers and set my face with light makeup. I was only staying indoors today anyways. I French braided my hair from crown to tip and pulled at the strands to loosen it up. A few pieces were taken out around my temple and cascaded on the side of my face. My mother came back in the room already dressed up as well in her blue, long sleeve knee length dress. She had her hair tied up in a tight bun that complimented her sharp features. The gold jewelry complimented her gold eyes. It was a unique thing that belonged to your people, even more unique to female alphas; only female alpha’s have gold eyes. She grabbed the two ends of the chains I already raised to latch the rose gold necklace, but took over halfway wordlessly. It was one piece of the set my father to me for my last birthday when I turned seventeen. My mother reached into the aged, heirloom jewelry box and pulled out the six rose gold rose pins for my hair. She weaved them through the braid into a small garden. I looped in the small hoop earring into my ears as the last touch and after latching the last hoop I took in everything. My metallic, rose gold eyes matched my jewelry perfectly.

I was born with gold eyes like my mother but as I got older red bleed into the gold mixing it into a rose gold. In a childish fit I was ashamed of them, I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be like the rest of my pack, like the other female alpha’s generations before me. I sat at on the top of the porch chairs ashamed of my eyes but my father sat down behind me incasing me in between his legs. He set his bearded chin on my head, “The purple blends with the edges of the sky at night and for centuries people have painted that same sky. Each sunset is unique, no day will the clouds be the same. There will be no night where the sunset doesn’t marble into different colors.” I stopped sobbing hearing my dad’s words. He always talked some sense into me and told stories instead of lectures to get his message across. He wound his arms around me in a comforting hug, “Aure, Aureliana, my love, do you know that your name is as unique as the sky?” I shook my head acknowledging I’ve never bothered to ask, it’s just always been a self-truth I didn’t question. He sighed rocking me side to side gently and began, “Aureliana was the name of a special woman, who was like a mother to me, when I went to Spain. She told me the great legend of her name. Aureliana meant golden and that it was the name of an emperor of the Romans. The Romans were strong, smart, and diverse people who wore their red and gold robes proudly. They were greatest people of their time! Of course, your mother wanted to name you Y/N, but I still think you’re my little golden token. I’m grateful to have you Aure and I wouldn’t ever change that. You are strong and smart. Don’t be ashamed of the same colors the Roman’s wore proudly. My precious, little wolf, be the strong and valiant one I know you are.”

Being the daughter of an Alpha was a big responsibility, you were expected to lead the pack later when it was time to pass it down to the next reigning leader as the new Luna. The words my father told me that evening never left my every day motivational speech. I’ve held my head proudly since then and I want to lead my pack with pride when the time came. My pack was only a smaller division of a larger collective tribe. The region that I belong to was made of five different family packs, but my family was the second in ranking. The Kim family was the main alpha’s that ruled the area and their alpha worked for the Council as the Minister of Wolves and Canine relations. Your father was the secretary for the Minister earning the spot as a wise alpha and a smart man.

I walked down the stairs trailing after my mother into the kitchen. It was only my mother and myself in the house for the meantime to finish dinner and decorate the house before my father returned with my grandparents, his parents. My mother’s family disappeared five years ago, never to be found. I mixed some of the dishes and went to set the table with a large bouquet centerpiece. A few streamers were hung to create a festive atmosphere and bring all the décor together. It was tradition in wolf culture to be close to your family and mine lived by that diligently. I was working on some decorations in the living room when I hear the familiar car horn coming from the drive way. I slipped on my outside slippers and made my way out and down the porch steps and jogged up to the white Jeep Grand Cherokee. I waited for my dad to come out the car and he opened his arms wide and said, “Aure!” With an open invitation I jumped into his arms and squeezed him with all I had. He laughed at my eagerness and set me down. I turned to my grandparents struggling to get out. My grandpa was a tall, lean man with salt and pepper hair. He said his wrinkles were caused by grandma, “the woman never knows how to stop nagging me Y/N,” at least I quote from him. Grandma was a short, small woman but she had enough spunk in her to rival me. I hugged them equally as tight just not jumping this time around. I politely took their carry-ons walking with them into the house as they told me about their adventure on the train. Your father followed closely behind with their suitcase and closed the front door.

It was around seven pm when everything was on the table and served onto everyone’s plate. My father raised his glass clinking it with a nearby utensil. “I’m so glad my parents could make it to this dinner. It’s always great having you in our home. It isn’t home without everyone here tonight, Howls to the kin!” You all howled in cheer and clinked your glasses, but in my gauntlet it was only apple juice. I couldn’t drink any alcohol yet since it was illegal. The meal was delicious, my mother was an amazing cook. All adults at the table were tipsy with the merlot wine that my father has been saving for the occasion. I was facing the bay window sitting next to my mother, across from your grandparents with my father at the head of the table. All the adults were so in tuned with some old story that I’ve heard every Sunday dinner. They were clearly giggling at the same boring parts and retelling the same old jokes. I stared out the window not being able to leave the table until I cleaned my plate. I twirled my fork in the few last bites of pasta, but I didn’t raise it to take a bite. I stared out at the tree line of the property. The moonlight shined brightly on the mid-size back yard reflecting on the freshly dewed grass. We were far out from the city and from the closet pack house, it was safer for us and allowed us to run the forest in our natural states. There were no fences around the property since we wanted to run freely and return at will.

The tree line seemed to move and sway, I rubbed my eyes clearing it of any haze. I was positive I didn’t drink anything so why was the tree line changing? The black shadows took to a uniform line of dark shadows approaching the house out of the trees. They wore long, black cloaks, so you couldn’t make out any faces. I panicked my heart was racing, I yelled breaking the warm, nostalgic atmosphere, “Dad, Dad, there are people approaching the house! Look out the window, Look!” As if he sobered up instantly, his eyes burned a bright red and he peered at the tree line finally seeing the approaching shadows. A growl ripped through everyone in the room and I turned to the window again now seeing them more clearly. Each carried a pelt, some multiple, of their hunt with large knifes tucked into a sheath on their belt. They were armed in leather armor under their cloaks as I caught glimpses within strides. The man in the middle with multiple pelts on his cloak raised his hand and his minions stopped. He raised his head and to the side allowing my family to see the smirk of his teeth. He unsheathed his large sword gripping the leather handle that had a wolf’s tail hanging as an ornament. The blade was held in the air and it was dripping in purple, viscous solution. My eyes widened, I knew that syrup very well and whispered audibly, “wolfsbane.” The man kept arching his arm all the way back and then threw his knife towards us. Screams wrecked the room as the knife cracked the glass shattering the window and the knife was left oscillating stuck in the wooden table. My mother grabbed my hand calling along my grandmother, “Honey, we’re going to run. Don’t stop running okay? When we reach the front lawn, I want you to shift into your wolf. Go!” I looked towards my father and grandpa, who was already shifting and charging towards the men. I whimpered. There were too many men, I already knew this wasn’t going to end well. My mother dragged me to the front door and I made it into the lawn bare feet, “Shift! Don’t bother removing clothes just run!” The sound of clothes ripping and bones cracking filled the air, but close along the boots and laughs of the men followed. I didn’t look back, I kept running with my family at my side.

I was able to make it a half mile out climbing over and under shrubbery, trees, and anything in the way. It wasn’t long before you heard a yelp and against better judgment I took a gander back only to be horrified when you saw that your grandmother was being pulled by the tail towards the men. They raised their purple knifes letting the purple syrup drip tauntingly and then straight into her. I was horrified but my mother nudged my shoulder midstride to keep running; it wasn’t time to stop. My vision was getting blurry with tears. We made it past a river bank and saw an upcoming edge of a cliff. If we jumped, we could get away. We made it a bit further, I was trailing in front of my mother when I heard a pained howl. I stopped a few steps ahead and saw she was stuck in a bear trap. I was circling her whining, there wasn’t anything I could do in this state. I approached her and tried to bite the claws open finding any lever to release the pressure. I was panicking because I could smell the putrid smell of the hunters. The distinct smell of wolfsbane was getting closer and closer. I scratched and bite at the trap for a release, my claws were filing against the rusted metal of the old forgotten trap. My mother was barking at me to leave, leave and go far away but I wasn’t going to leave her behind. Before I knew it a large calloused hand encircled my neck and held me above the ground hind legs dangling. I couldn’t breathe but I was kicking and biting at the hands holding me. They laughed at my struggle, “Well look at what we have here. Two females? Well if it isn’t our lucky day.” One of the five men was stroking my mothers fur, but retracting his hand back when she snapped at him. He clicked his tongue at her, “stubborn, bitch.” He then placed his foot on the trap and eventually applied enough pressure to hear a snap of bone where the two sides of the bear trap met again. I roared, and my mother was screaming at the loss of her limb. The amount of blood flowing was overwhelming. They looked towards me and noticed my eyes, “wow, look at this one’s eyes. It would sell for so much if we dug them out and sold them don’t ya think?” I was shaking more violently doing everything I could to get out of their grasp. My mother looked into my eyes one last time before the gold left hers to turn a black as the man brought his up knife in both hands and through her chest. It hurt so much, and I was feeling sick. My vision was blacking in and out and before you knew it you passed out from the lack of air.

The muslin over my head didn’t lessen all of my senses. I could smell the different owners of blood, but I recognized notes of my fathers and grandpa’s as I was hurled to the floor of the room. I could only hear four heartbeats in the room. Before the muslin was removed, my arms were twisted behind my back locked in cuffs that were attached to decayed chains latched to the celling in my kneeling position. A scratchy rope was tied around my thighs and calves into a permanent kneeling position. This position really put strain on my broken rib, but I made no notion of it. I wasn’t going to let them get under my skin. My father always warned me if I was ever in this position to show no fear, don’t directly challenge but handle things logically. With him being in politics, this isn’t the first threat our family has faced. The bag was removed off my head and I had to squint to adjust to the bright surgical lighting of the room. The room had tiles lining the wall and on the opposite wall my father was suspended from the ceiling in chains like mine. His face was so bloated and the injury from somewhere in his hairline was dripping down his face. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to remain composed with my head held up high. I was still trying to forget what happened to my mother and grandparents. The same man who threw the knife through the window was standing over a machine with different knobs and switches. From the machine ground lead wires were snaked on the ground but lead to attachments on my father at random locations on his chest.

My nostrils flared at the sight taking deeper breathes and from the burning smell of flesh. I couldn’t turn my head up very much since I was forced into a bowing position. I was able to bring my head to glimpse over my lashes at my father who tried to speak to me, but he was only able to gurgle out blood. I lowered my head before I lost all self-control. The traumatic image was becoming too much. The man once standing in front of the generator began pacing the room, “Well, are you going to tell us now? Your poor, poor daughter wouldn’t need to face the same pain, right? It would be a shame to waste a pretty face. You’re going to tell us where the Kim’s home is, right?” My dad was struggling against the chains, “don’t touch her!” The man responded like chastising a child, “that’s not the answer I wanted, now is it.” He didn’t get any response though my father refused to let them know anything.

The man stepped in front of me taking me in and brought his hunting knife out of his tool belt. He circled around me and crouched behind me waving the knife around between his index and thumb. My father was growling viciously with his fangs elongated grazing his already cut lip. I whimpered when he dragged the blade over my skin much like a cat scratching a post. I was trembling causing the chains to rattle, “Oh, little puppy are you scared?” I didn’t respond but attempted to stop the trembling. He sighed and with his cold tone, “Daughter like father.” He stood up and brought the knife to the top of my dress and brought it down tearing the back open and then brought the knife to my bra and ripped that as well. He cleared my spine of any fabric raking his calloused, dry hands up and down my spine and exposing it to the frigid air of the room. I didn’t bother holding back my panting now, I was terrified. The man twirled the knife in his hand again lazily eyeing my father, “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go in intervals of cutting her and shocking you until you answer me.” My father was growling but it was cut off with a pained yelled when electricity ran through his system. I was pressing my lips tightly together silently screaming as the purple knife cut into my upper arm. The pause was short in between repetitions when the man yelled again at my father for answers. Dad was sobbing and yelling for them to stop, to leave me alone. You remained silent, not wanting to spend any energy on speaking.

After more rounds they threw water on your father when he was nearing passing out. I couldn’t keep track anymore of the gashes my arms and legs, they burned like fire because of the wolfsbane. The one that burned the most was the “H” he engraved on my thigh. The pain from the others was dull but it was chronic enough to make me hold your breath occasionally to displace the tension. The man accepted a large bucket form another hunter and brought it to loam over me this time and presented it to my father. Another male held up my father’s chin to acknowledge the lead torturer. He held up a five-gallon (nineteen liter) container with steaming, hot water higher in gesture, “we specially boiled this for her. Now for the last time, where is it?” My father was sobbing at the man holding his chin, but when he got no response the man said, “you leave me with no choice.” He truly couldn’t respond; his facial muscles weren’t responding anymore.

I was trembling so intensely that the chains attached to my cuffs were swinging in the little room they had. The drips of water from the bucket sprinkled on my back and stung upon contract. I held my head low and closed my eyes. I started mumbling comforting words to myself, anything to take my mind off the reality of the situation. I repeated lyrics from the song my mother sang to me that only our people knew. The world felt like it slowed when I felt the first hit of the wave of water. I screamed as hard as I could and the pain in the wake of it was so intense my ears began to ring. My throat felt raw when he pouring stopped but the sobbing didn’t stop. He kept pouring a second time, then a third time after a short break knowing it would intensified the pain. I was still trembling now not from fear but pain. I slumped forward and to the side off my knees onto my left thigh. The man who poured the lava on me commented, “such a shame,” but there was no empathy in his voice. He walked back over to my father and turned the electricity up and kept it on until he passed out. Not long after the muslin bag was thrown over my head again and they undid the cuffs. I just slumped to the floor face first unable to move. They dragged my father and I back to the cell where we were held earlier and laid me on the cold cell floor. They removed the bag around my head and I noticed my grandfather no longer laid in the corner. I don’t remember much after because the world was getting darker and I eventually gave into the slumber when the pain and the blood loss became too much.

I woke up in my dad’s embrace sometime later, he was petting my head whispering sweet nothings into my hair. He was crying and repeating apologies. I opened my eyes and muttered “Dad” somewhere in between a lingual language and slurring. He didn’t stop his ministrations but now changed his words, “Your name is Aure. You’re no longer Y/N. If anyone ask you say that is who you are. The others, they didn’t make it, but you, you will! I’m going to help you escape. I need you to live on Aure. Once we reach the front door I need you to run and get as far away as possible. My little wolf you will run!” I was unsure of what he meant, what did he mean only I was going to escape? Why weren’t we going together? “Dad, it’s both of us or nothing.” He shook his head and stroked my cheek and told me that when the guards leave be prepared to leave.

I wasn’t prepared when my dad was able to bend the uneven metal bars, or when I snuck down the cell hallway up the stairs. The torch lights flickered when we passed by them. I wasn’t prepared when he held his hand over my mouth walking up the irregularly spaced cement stairs into the cabin on ground floor. I wasn’t prepared when he shoved me out the front door when the hunters ambushed him seeing us trying to escape. I wasn’t prepared when he fought them off with everything he had and he yelled to me with his last breath “Run!”. I had to leave him. I ran, unprepared, but I ran away.

I shifted into my wolf form because I was able to run faster on four legs than two. The pain from the burns along my spine and the gashes all over my body made the shift harder and regaining traction back nauseating. I stumbled my way into the forest and broke into a full run with all I had. Pain was secondary now. I kept running even when I couldn’t hear any more voices. I couldn’t trust silence. I kept running even when I was stumbling over my front paws, I must keep going. I came across a river at the end of a blue-green waterfall. Behind the waterfall’s cascade was a cave but before I made any moves into it I smelled the surroundings for anyone or anything. The coast was clear, so I stumbled into the entrance slipping on some rocks and into a shallow pool of cold water. The cold soothed my burns and the dirt in my fur contaminant the once clear water. The normally light-brown, white coat was a dark brown and burgundy. I stayed in the pool, I didn’t have energy to get back up. I was done running off adrenaline. I began sobbing knowing I now had lost my whole family. I had no one anymore. I cried myself into exhaustion and passed out in the water.

Daylight poured into the cave diffused in scattered light through the curtains of water. I laid in the same position for a while longer because the adrenaline was finally wearing off. I was so sore, but I was able to prop myself flat onto my stomach, whimpering when I put too much pressure on my ribs, and licked at my wounds enough to seal them. Werewolf’s have a special enzyme in their saliva that provide a Neosporin topical protection. Normally werewolves heal fast, but under extreme stress it can take just as long as a human’s regrowth rate. I had to get up and keep going, I didn’t know how far away the hunters were or if they were already waiting for me nearby. I limped my way out of the cave and drank some water from a clean pool before I carried on. The pain wasn’t as bad as last night, but my back felt tight with the now seared flesh solidifying into scars. Along my way I tried to hunt but no small creatures were around and if there was they were too fast. I kept going until it was pitch black out. A cabin amongst the trees broke the darkness with its porch light. I crouched behind bushes and observed it for any life. There was an old, green pickup truck off to the side of the cabin. I knew someone had to be living there, there must be food, all I had to do was sneak in to take some. I watched the home for any obvious signs hunters were a part of the place, but there wasn’t any pelts or animal skins.

After waiting for an hour, I crept to the side of the house in my human form naked to a side window that was left ajar. I creaked the wooden window pane open but stopped when it got too noisy. I waited for any sound, but nothing came. I gripped the wood and worked my way into the house landing on a knitted rug. I used my night vision to my advantage and observed the room locating the Kitchen. I crept through the dark house into the kitchen. The wooden floor boards would occasionally creak, but I tried to space it out enough to seem like natural, old home settling creaks. The steel double door of the fridge was calling to me, so I braced for the sound of the hiss from opening the door and held my breath as it opened. The decompression of the fridge activated the humming of the radiator. There was too much noise going on, so I grabbed any Tupperware and a crispy, cold apple and ran back to the window.

The light turned on and I froze in the middle of a living room with the evidence in plain sight. My bare back was turned to whomever the two owners of fast paced heart beats were, and I turned around with the apple in my mouth and my eyes wide. I covered my chest with my scared arms and the Tupperware protecting myself as much as I could. The older couple were still in the midst of tying their robes over their pajamas. I began stepping back but tripped over the same knitted rug I landed on spilling the contents on the Tupperware on the floor and myself. I was lowly growling in a way to have them back away enough for me to sneak back out the window. They held their hands up in defense and the older man spoke first, “we aren’t going to hurt you. Please, just calm down.” I was still eyeing the window but my direction of attention changed when they said, “You’re hurt, let us patch you up and feed you. You’re hungry right?” I stopped growling but yapped back in a broken voice, “No, you’re just going to take me back to them! I won’t go back!” They exchanged confused looks not knowing who I was referring too. “Honey, we don’t know who you’re talking about. Please, let us help you.” The room was silent for a few minutes and I looked around taking in the room to see if they had any weapons or pelts. The living room was humble with an old sofa, wooden tables and family pictures. I untensed when nothing indicated hunters and hunched over, but immediately cried out when the movement put stress on my wounds. The older woman inched her way towards me and was able to pick up the apple that fell out of my mouth and handed it to me. With a reluctant hand I extended then brought it back, but fully went to grab it rapidly. The older woman took my other hand and lead me to the bathroom. She asked me to stand in the shower so she could wash off the dirt and clean my wounds. She was truly gentle with me and didn’t ask any questions. I want to run, but the comforting hand of hers reminded me of my own grandmother. I started crying, an ugly cry, hunching over to collapsing to my own feet. The older woman was alarmed, she thought she hurt me further and asked what’s wrong. I shook my head and she brought me into her chest in an embrace not caring that she was getting wet. She rocked me back in forth until my sobs stopped. She dressed my wounds but said, “I’m not a nurse so this is the best I can do. I can’t cover your back up with any bandage. The burn is too extensive, I’m going to just apply aloe and we’ll let it heal on its own.” I nodded slowly in confirmation and she took a step out to her room to grab me some clothing. I finally took a step towards the wide mirror. The woman that looked back at me was an unfamiliar creature. My skin was pale littered in black and blue marks and gauze looped over the countless cuts. I slowly turned around to take a look at my back, if I could call it that anymore. It could’ve been mistaken for a world map from the apex of my neck all the way down to the small of the back. It was roaring red with purple lining the jagged edges of the map, the tiny cluster of blisters were inflamed full to the brim with serum. I was numb at this point, I had no tears left in me, no energy left to mourn anymore.

The family fed me and gave me a room to stay in, they didn’t ask any questions just let me sleep. They respected my sensitive nature for the night. The next evening I woke up after sixteen hours of sleep and was greeted by the older man sipping coffee on the couch, while his wife was across from him knitting a blanket. They looked up at me and smiled widely, “Evening dear, there’s food set on a plate on the dinner table for you.” I nodded and sat down in one of the four chairs with the plate of food. They both joined me at the table sitting across from me. I stopped eating when the atmosphere became uncomfortable. The old man spoke first with a stern voice, “If you’re going to stay here until your better we need to know who you are and where you came from.” I set the utensil down and stared at my plate, but the man spoke again,” I see your eyes are a different color than any natural color, are you one of them?” The older man spoke last words with venom and I knew it wasn’t safe to tell him the truth. I settled for a half-truth half lie on the spot, “my-my name is Aure. I ran away from..”gulp,” the a group of men that took me away from my family. They were sick men and performed experiments on me and my eyes. The last time was too much and I just ran away. I couldn’t take it anymore.” I struggled a bit with a solid story, but it came off as if what I was saying was too painful to relate. I was sure I probably sounded slightly cynical but that just helped me out. I was hoping they would take sympathy on me and consider me a rightful victim. The older woman grabbed my hand in her and patted it, “I’m so sorry that you went through all that. Those men must’ve experimented with wolf blood. Should we call the police? You can stay here as long as you want dear. We’ll be more than happy to take you in.” I looked up afraid, “please, no I don’t want to involve the authorities. I-I just want to stay hidden, it’s safer that way.” The older man just nodded not caring to sit much longer at the table. “He can be rough around the edges, but he means well.” I smiled at her words, but knew I would be walking on glass in this house.

Two years passed, and I’ve never left the cabin. I was happy here, although the first few months were awkward and a struggle the couple never made me feel obliged to anything. I was able to hide who I truly was well with no mishaps. They asked me to call them something else besides mister and misses and I settled on Nana and Papa. Papa taught me how to work the gardens in the back and I even started my own lane of vegetation. Nana taught me how to knit and brew the best cups of tea. It was humble and quiet, but I was glad I had a place to stay. The family had two sons, but they rarely came to visits since they lived in the city. Their old room was now my room and I would read the old comic books they had. The one that caught my attention was Marvel’s Black Widow. I read it back and forth, over and over again. I even found some books on how to fight with diagrams! It was really a boy’s room. They told me they’ve always wanted a daughter, so I was a blessing in disguise.

At night when no one was awake I crept outside to the back and shifted enjoying my wolf form and resting the itch of the beast. I wasn’t the same tawny wolf I used to be with my beautiful light-brown, white coat. My back had a large patch of missing where the scars wouldn’t grow hair back. There was a unique scar on my hind leg of the letter H from when they cut me up letting anyone know who they were. The hunters were forever attached to me. That wasn’t the only scar, my arms were also covered in scars not as large as the H but still notable. I would take the book with me and practice the diagrams. I wanted to be able to defend myself if anything like that were to happen again. I wouldn’t let it happen again. I would always return “home” before they got up and carried on with life.

Nana came up to me with her carrying her canvas grocery bags and list of groceries; papa was slowly in tow adjusting his paperboy hat on his head with the keys in his hand. “Aure, we will be gone until five, but we’ll be back before sundown. We need to make a trip to the store and visit a fellow neighbor. Will you be fine by yourself?” I shook your head, “yes, Nana. I have chores to finish anyways so I will be busy!” She rubbed my arm and they both trailed their way out the door into the pick-up truck. I stood at the door and waved them off watching the truck become a dot in the distance. I went back inside and rolled up my sleeves, it was time to get to work. I cleaned the living room, bathroom and all the bedrooms in no time. I made myself an early lunch and was officially done with all the chores around two p.m. and it would still be another three hours before they came back. I decided I would take advantage of this time alone and shift into my wolf form that way I could sleep all night. I went out back and stripped of my clothing and hid it behind a tree. I shifted with a crack and popping of my bones, but ended up in my natural state. The breeze dusted through my tawny fur and it was the most refreshing sensation. I happily ran a typically path I created chasing any small wild life in tease, rubbing my whole body on the fresh dirt and basked in the sun. It was paradise. I took a nap in the sun on a boulder that acted like a heating pad, but before I knew it the rock grew cold. I snapped awake to a starry sky and bid goodbye to the long-gone sun. I knew I had to make it home fast and change without anyone seeing me.

I ran. I ran as fast as my feet would take me back to the familiar cabin. Within a distant from the cabin I approached the typical tree where I hid my clothing besides, but I wasn’t alone. Papa held up my dress clearly panicked and looked around for you calling out my name. In the clearing of the tree he caught me in my wolf form standing a few trees away. I shifted back into my human form covering my naked body and called to him, “Papa, please. I can explain. I can ex-.” He threw the dress to the ground causing dust to fly up in a cloud. He didn’t let me finish my statement, he never would. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the front of the cabin where Nana was waiting. She was wide eye when she saw me naked and being dragged back. She ran up to me but Papa yelled at her, “Stay back, she’s one of them! The tramp!” I winced at his strong words. Nana was looking at me with pleading eyes, she was wishing what she heard wasn’t true. He threw me down to the floor like my dress earlier. My knees scrapped against the dry dirt and he left walking into the house. Nana came up to me and grabbed my shoulders, “please, Aure, tell me it’s not true. You’re our Aure, you can’t be one of them!” Tears streamed down my face silently and down to the dirt, I didn’t want them to find out this way. “Nana—,” I spoke to her softly grabbing her hand, but it was yanked away from me by Papa. “Get back from her! She doesn’t deserve our kindness. She’s no better than the dirt she sits on. She’s even worse than that. Her kind should all die!” I couldn’t hold my sobs back in anymore, his words stung.

He pulled Nana behind him and then brought up his rifle to my forehead. The cold metal barrel sat in between my eyes waiting. I stopped moving, everything seemed to go in slow motion. No, no, he wasn’t going to really shoot me, he was just trying to scare me. I scooted back on my legs away from his gun. Nana was shouting at him to stop and lower the rifle, but he just yelled over her with a ferocious roar to shut up. It was as if all life in the forest stopped, the trees weren’t swaying, no small animals moved, the wind was silent. I stared back at the stoutly man who raised the machinery to me. I slowly stood up, “Papa—!” He spat at my feet, “don’t call me any endearing terms mongrel.” I knew it was no use arguing with him anymore, but I had to get away. I had to live I made a promise to my father. I backed away slowly one baby step at a time and noticing his finger switch over to the trigger as he mounted the butt of the gun on his shoulder. The darkness all seemed to blend in as I turned around not facing my once temporary family anymore and took strides away from them. The first long step was successful, your hair was blown behind you from your fast pace. I felt my toes curl around the loose dirt with each step and releasing it along with every propulsion. The air was cold stung and dried out my throat as I huffed forward. I felt it before I heard the echo of the bang of gunfire. I held my breath upon impact as my knees skidded across the stale forest floor. Tears were rolling down my cheek, the bullet was logged in my thigh. I let out a scream that echoed enough to disturb the dead. I propped my hands in front of me and allowed the change to come over me. I had to keep going! I wasn’t dying here tonight, not tonight!

I shifted the best you could and kept thrusted off the ground running full speed. In the distant other rounds of gunshots rang out in my direction, but they became a faint echo the longer I kept going. I kept running, running for my life. The low hanging branches would graze against my side, but I didn’t want to stop. I climbed up a hill, crossed a river bank, and kept going until vision started blurring. The tall pine trees stood over me as I fell against one propping myself up. The pain was unbearable, I couldn’t even support my leg up anymore. I began limping with the leg raised but stopping at every other tree to rest.

Eleven, large grey wolves glided through the night. The sound of unison marching and panting broke the quiet night. Namjoon remained in the back while his father remained in front leading the pack. The males were out tonight monitoring the perimeter and answering the call to their wolf with the freedom to run. Namjoon remained in the back to keep track of the younger ones, not letting them deviate from the path. His father was the main alpha of the tribe, he was the Minister of Wolves. He eventually would have to take on that role also being an alpha. The hierarchy of wolfs were maintained in the blood lines and passed down through generations. Namjoon was a large, dark grey wolf that is larger than the others in his pack and the average werewolf. He was almost the spitting image of his father. The wolves ran and ran coming across nothing out of line, until they smelled me. Namjoon halted the group with a howl. He lifted his muzzle to the air and took in the scent of iron and an unfamiliar wolf. He looked towards his father and only two other betas followed him in his search. They crept and moved closer to the scent. About a quarter of a mile away, Namjoon saw the owner of the scent. I was leaning against the tree panting, sure these would be my last breathes. I finally registered that three other beings were in my area. I lifted my head to gaze at three large wolfs, the middle one was the largest. They were lowly growling in my direction. I wasn’t about to back down, even in the face of death. I shakily stood on my legs and facing their direction and changed my stance into a defensive one. I was challenging them, my rose gold eyes gleamed with anger. The largest one with bright red eyes stepped forward attempting to circle me, but I snapped and growled at him. His body language was telling me to back down and submit, but I wasn’t going to submit to anyone. When I felt he was getting too close I ran off. I didn’t get too far when I stumbled over my front paws when my hind leg gave out. I skidd across the floor in a loud yelp. The pain was too great, I had no other choice. I tried crawling away on my paws dragging my hind legs but I couldn’t gain any traction. The wolves came up behind me and the same red eyed one circled around to face my front and sat down in front of me. The others tried approaching but he just growled at them. He knew it when he first smelled it, he knew it when he got closer, and he knew it when he saw you. You were his mate.

In your tired state you still growled at him, but he wasn’t having it. He transformed into his human form and asked the others to warn his father of your presence. They left and I was left with a handsome, naked man. He came to crouch down next to me and spoke softly, “I need you to switch back. I can’t help you in this way. I won’t hurt you. I don’t know how much longer you’re going to live if you stay out here.” I didn’t want him touching me, but for some reason when he spoke to me it felt comforting. A type of safe I haven’t known in a very long time. I conceded and shifted back into my human form laying on my side. My vision was going in and out and eventually I couldn’t hear him anymore. Namjoon quick to react and picked you up bridal style avoiding your wound. He ran back to the pack covering up your chest by bringing you closer to him away from the prying eyes. His father nodded, and the pack continued forward. Namjoon ran back to the packhouse about a mile away. In between, he would take looks at you, his beautiful mate. He couldn’t make out much since it was so dark, but what he could his heart already was yours.

He made his way up to the oak tree where the whole pack hid their clothing in a container disguised as a rock. He slipped his pants on and his shirt over you. He ran through the back door of the packhouse and called for his grandmother, “Help! Please, help!”

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