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writersrealmbts · 3 years

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Clearwater Springs: Part 9

SDescription: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: idk

Posted: 08/18/2021

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, soulmate au

3,463 words

A/N: Okay! Remember, two free-write and one survey chapter, which means the next survey chapter will be chapter 11 (technically they all are at this point), which means that the survey at the bottom of this post will be on part 10 as well. Sorry for the wait.

Previous ~ Next

You were in a warm cocoon, and you weren’t about to disturb it.

Yoongi was in cat form again, stretched out against your back, purring now and then in his sleep.

Namjoon was snoring, but you didn’t care because he was warm and his heartbeat was strong, and he was well-built. Strong enough to make you feel safe, soft enough to keep you comfortable. He was your haltija.

You lay in a comfortable doze for a while, smiling when Yoongi moved so you could pet him and he fell asleep again.

But then someone was sneaking in and over, fluttering above the ground and peering at you.

You yawned a bit, then turned to reach out both hands to him.

Jimin smiled and took your hands, gently pulling you from between the other two and into the air.

You grinned as he set you down on the floor by the bed, admiring his wings. His feathers looked shinier already, and the colors of his feathers seemed more vibrant. Happiness made such a difference in fairies.

Jimin tugged your hand gently, pulling you out of the room and down to Jin’s room.

The door swung open silently, revealing the most adorable sight of Jin and Jungkook cuddling. Jungkook’s arms wrapped around Jin, and head on Jin’s shoulder but still tucked close to Jin’s neck. Both of them looked so peaceful.

Jimin shared your smile, then tugged your hand again as he carefully closed the door.

Taehyung was being bearhugged from behind by Hoseok, drowsily watching some cartoon show that had the volume down as low as possible without muting it.

Hoseok murmured now and then, and pressed airy little kisses just barely into Taehyung’s hair--probably completely unfelt by the dryad. But he glanced over and smiled contentedly at you before whispering something that got a sleepy smile out of his companion.

You tugged on Jimin’s hand this time, drawing him into the kitchen. “Help me make them breakfast?”

He nodded.

You weren’t an exceptional cook, but you could make basic foods, and the boys didn’t seem to mind basic foods. “Did you sleep well, ma mignonne?”

He nodded emphatically. “Yesterday was tiring.”

Yoongi stalked in, scowling tiredly at you. “You left.”

“Sorry, mon chat minou,” You apologized, leaning over to peck his lips.

His eyes widened.

Jimin huffed, latching onto you again.

You leaned back into his arms and tilted your head back for a kiss.

He hesitated, but did kiss you—softly. As though you were a bubble that would pop at any moment. His lips soft against yours.

You brushed his cheek with your fingertips, keenly away of two more sets of eyes on the three of you.

Hoseok, probably already knowing the outcome, came over and claimed his kiss. “Morning, aluemdaun.”

You hummed happily at his casual compliment, curling your fingers around the neckline of his shirt. “Darling.”

Taehyung’s eyes were wide, and he slowly came forward.

You watched him with a soft smile. “Good morning, Taehyung. Did you sleep well?”

Taehyung nodded slowly.

You kissed his cheek, brushing over the spot where you kissed him with your thumb as you looked over his face. “Good.”

“So...does everyone know...about….” He gestured vaguely to your arm.

You nodded, smiling a little more. “Everyone knows. You can ask them anything about being soulmates that you want. You can touch them, hug them, kiss them, and they’ll have no room to complain because they’re stuck with all of us for the rest of our lives—provided all goes well.”

Taehyung started to get hints of excitement in his eyes. “Hugs?”

“As many as you like. Jimin gives especially good hugs.” You nodded toward the fairy, who was still cooking under your instructions.

Yoongi took Taehyung’s hand. “After we’re out of their way so they can make breakfast.”

Taehyung didn’t seem to accept that, turning and hugging onto Yoongi despite the werecat’s protests—loud as they were.

But Yoongi waddled himself and Taehyung out of the kitchen, and out of your way. And Taehyung forced his hugs on the werecat without avail.

You returned to your fairy, directing his actions with little gestures, happy when the food turned out well—just as Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook joined everyone downstairs.

Jimin greeted them with a chirpy ‘Good Morning!’ while ushering them to the table. “We just finished making breakfast!”

Jungkook looked like he was still half-asleep, movements languid as Jin helped him to a spot at the table.

Yoongi was still trapped by Taehyung. “Stop it. Stop it. Let’s not do this. Stop it.”

Taehyung ignored him, nuzzling the were-cat’s neck until suddenly the were-cat shifted and escaped. Then he pouted, looking hurt and sullen.

Jin chuckled sleepily. “Come here, Taehyungie, we’ll catch him later for you to cuddle. Sit next to hyungie to eat.”

Hoseok easily claimed the seat on the other side of Taehyung. “Yoongi-hyung was probably just hungry, Taehyung. He’s not very forthright, but—” he dropped his glass, eyes glazed and far away. He frowned, hands hovering shakily over his plate.

You glanced at Jin for a moment.

Jin got up and went around to Hoseok’s side.

Hoseok’s gaze cleared slightly, but he looked shaken. “I need my crystal ball. Need to get upstairs.”

“I’ll help you,” Jin whispered softly, helping him up. “Even breaths, Hoseokie. Keep calm.”

Hoseok nodded, leaning into Jin. “Need to look. Need to see.”

You watched them go with a little worry, but you knew Hoseok would be fine as long as Jin was with him.

Today, you had work to do.

After you had made sure that Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin had ingested an adequate amount of food—and helped Yoongi make plates for the two that were absent—you went to your room, silently asking your waters for some good working clothes.

Your waters ignored you and gave you a dress, but at least the dress wouldn’t expose your body every time you moved.

Jimin was waiting with Parsley by the front door. “You’re going to the library, right?”

You smiled and nodded. “I have work to do. Are you coming with me?”

“You can’t go alone,” He said nonchalantly. “Too dangerous. Especially with a dark mage about.”

“True. But I wouldn’t like it if you didn’t want to come with me.”

“I want to,” He answered quickly, looking a little sheepish. “I really like it there. High ceilings. I can fly even though it’s raining.”

You smiled. “Alright, then.”

You peeked into the living room, noticing that Taehyung had ‘captured’ Yoongi again and that both were watching a movie with Jungkook and Namjoon. “I’m off to the library with Jimin. Be back later. Someone check on Jin and Hoseok if they don’t come down in an hour?”

“Mm’kay,” Namjoon answered distractedly, but you saw Yoongi look over at you and nod.

Rain didn’t bother you that much, it was just water after all, but Jimin seemed a little averse to it, so you made sure he had the umbrella. Not that it was much of a rainstorm, the gentle pattering drops far more soothing than harsh. Pleasant and somewhat warm.

There was a truck sitting in front of the library, and Valina was under the overhang of the doors, glaring at another person.

Jimin gently touched your shoulder and took off to watch from a distance, a distance from which he could easily intervene if he needed.

You carried the closed umbrella up to those waiting, wondering what was going on. “Hello Valina, how may I assist you?”

She glanced at you, eyes widening slightly, panicked a little.

“Ah! You must be the librarian, I am Grendel,” The dark mage said, turning toward you and bowing.

You froze, but tried not to display your panic. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“Yes, well, you see, as well as conducting my own business, I was asked to convey this load of books to this…charming town’s library.” He eyed you. “I had not realized that this library was run by a xana.”

“I had not realized my species could be of any interest to any being other than my own kind,” You answered evenly. “There is a room around the side of the building for after-hours book deliveries and donations, and the sign is right there, as well. I believe that lettering is large enough for any to read.”

“Ah, but I have…certain donations that need special care, and I wished to convey the instructions in person—as I was telling this…fiery, young woman.”

“That’s witch to you! And I told you I could have given her the instructions.” Valina crossed her arms.

“And I told you, there are certain things that only a librarian can understand. This place has special vaults for…dangerous tomes, does it not?” He turned to you.

“We would have to ask the owner of the library,” You answered vaguely. “I have not been informed of any. If you would be so kind as to deliver the rest to the side room, I will call the owner and have him come and talk with you.”

“I was specifically instructed—”

“I understand,” You cut him off. “However, I have no answers as to security for dangerous tomes, and for that, the owner is required. Once he has answers in regards to the safety of such tomes, then we may further discuss the tomes staying here. Until then, please patiently wait in the delivery room around the side of the building. I shall not ask again.”

“But—”

“You have about five seconds before I start singing: can you bare it, mage?” You asked, eyes narrowing in a challenge.

His mouth clamped shut and he bowed stiffly. “As you have asked, so shall I do.”

You nodded firmly and moved to the front doors, waiting until he was pulling the truck to the side of the building before unlocking the front doors and ushering Valina inside.

“Are you crazy? He’s a dark mage!” She hissed the moment the door closed.

“I am…very…aware…of…that…,” You said in between trying not to hyperventilate in the ensuing panic.

Jimin landed and quickly wrapped his arms and wings around you, forcing Valina to back up. “You’re crazy. You’re absolutely crazy.”

You just hugged him back with all of your might. “Need to call Jin.”

“I’ll do that,” Valina said, regarding you and Jimin and just a tiny bit disconcerted.

“It’s a trick, right? He’s just trying to get to you, right?” Jimin asked, sounding panicked.

Parsley twined around your feet, mewling.

“Where’s his pheonix?” You whispered.

You saw Valina look up sharply.

Jimin let go of you and shrunk, darting off to look.

You went to the desk slowly, sitting down and beginning your work. “He stop at your shop first?”

“Not exactly. Had a feeling.” Valina leaned against the counter, frowning. “A faun pointed him out to me, and my brain worked from there. My coven will ward the town. We’ve already been setting up protection wards on people’s houses, so most people should be safe at night. Except your house. But you have a haltija.”

“And a were-cat, and a djinn, dryad, seer, incubus-fairy mix, and a human that I swear has magic in his blood.”

“Mr. Kim definitely has magic in his blood,” Valina said, eyes flashing pink. “Ancient magic, but it is there. His family tree is made of touched and clearsighted.”

“Touched and clearsighted?” You asked.

“Touched people have a sort of intuition, they get a sense for things quickly—especially in regards to the magical. They tend to become fighters, people who protect others from…less-savory magic. Clearsighted folk can see through all magical protection that would confuse other humans. Why do you think he didn’t become a slobbering fool upon seeing you? Yes, he sees you’re hot as hell, but, because he has clearsight, he is able to resist that pull and instead focus on you as a person. Me? I have special charms to resist folk like yourself and stay a decent witch.” She looked you over and quickly looked away. “Though, I think it’s about time I recharge them.”

“I appreciate the effort,” You murmured, thinking about Jin and grateful for the distraction that she had been trying to give you. “There’s still so much I don’t know about the world and about people. I only knew my people.”

“Might help if you came into town more often.”

You looked at her quietly until she met your gaze with a little regret.

“Nevermind, that would be mass chaos and not pleasant for you. Forget I mentioned town. Let me ward it for your protection first.”

“Don’t go to any extra trouble on my account.”

“I won’t. My coven planned on putting up warding to protect from…unwanted behaviors.”

“You’re the police of the town, aren’t you?”

Valina grinned. “Yup! But don’t worry, we have people we answer to as well. Now, if we could get real town status, then we’d probably elect Mr. Kim as mayor—”

“Never gonna happen,” Jin said firmly, walking quickly over to you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, standing up. “I sent him around the side to the drop-off area and Jimin is looking for the Pheonix, but he’s been gone since Valina called you.”

Yoongi shifted and ran out to see if he could track down the fairy.

Hoseok was looking a little…out of breath.

Jungkook seemed to be visually assessing you.

Namjoon was talking to the doorway.

Taehyung was looking around, awestruck. “Hyung…this place is so beautiful….”

Jin kissed your forehead and then glanced at Valina. “Got any extra protection charms?”

She patted her pockets demonstratively. “I was in a bit of a rush, toots. Apologies. Take the Djinn with you, he can use magic to protect you and it’s stronger than even a dark mage’s. He can protect you if he wishes.”

Hoseok gripped Jungkook’s arm. “No.”

Jungkook looked both surprised and hurt. “I can do it, hyung.”

“No, it has to be…” Hoseok looked desperately at him, then at you. “It has to be you. I…can’t tell you why…but I know….”

You could tell it was killing him to say it, tearing him up inside. “Okay. If you say it must be so, then it must be. Jungkook could protect us from here, correct?”

Hoseok considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, now please sit down. You look so pale,” You pleaded softly, gently, touching his arm.

He relaxed a bit and pliantly let you guide him to your chair.

“Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon; please look out for Hoseok, I have a feeling he’s going to be having a rough day,” You asked, picking up Parsley and setting her in Hoseok’s lap. “Pet the kitty.”

Hoseok let out a small breath of an amused laugh, then did as told.

Then you and Seokjin went outside to meet the dark mage.

Grendel was waiting, looking patient, casually unloading boxes from the truck, but he quickly set aside the box he was carrying as he noticed your approach.

“This is Mr. Kim, the owner of the library. Mr. Grendel had inquiries about secure vaults for…dangerous tomes.”

Jin nodded. “I am only allowed by the government to approve of certain types of tomes. What is the nature of the tomes?” He pulled out some paperwork.

“One is a necromancers guide made with dragon leather,” Grendel said, looking worried.

You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you.

Grendel nodded. “Dark magic that must be locked away and never let out again. And that one…that one should remain off-record if possible.”

Jin was quiet, partially frozen. “Where is that one?”

“Still on the truck. I didn’t want to unload it if it couldn’t stay here.”

Jin nodded slowly. “I know a place where it can go. I’m assuming you don’t want to know it’s final location either.”

“That would be correct.”

“Okay. And the other tomes?”

“A Demon Book, a Crimson portfolio, and the notebook of…Fausto Vilareyo,” Grendel finished, not meeting your gaze.

Your heart seemed to stop.

Jin was looking to you. “Fausto Vilareyo?”

“The first dark mage,” You answered, trembling.

Jin nodded slowly. “All of these fall within what I am able to take in. I will care for the notebook and the necromancer’s guide.”

You nodded. “I….”

“Can you go get me some notecards?” Jin asked, providing you with a brief escape. “And a pen?”

You nodded, turning and fleeing the presence of such an evil book.

The others startled when you hurried in.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asked, pausing in his task of what appeared to be drying Jimin’s wings.

“Yes. Did you find the pheonix?”

“No,” Jimin said, drooping. “No sign of it.”

“That’s fine,” You said hastily, grabbing some things for yourself.

“Slow down,” Valina advised, “before you drop everything you’re trying to pick up.”

You just nodded and raced out again, pausing before the corner and composing yourself.

Grendel conveyed the instructions for the last two books, then bowed. “I thank you for guarding these relics. It has been a long journey to find a safe resting place for them.”

You dipped your head very slightly. “War makes many things difficult, though they be difficult to begin with.”

“Very true. I must be off. Many more false trails to lay,” Grendel said, bowing once more. He hesitated in leaving, though. “I know it may not mean much, but I apologize for the wrongs that have been committed toward your kind. I had never seen one of your kind in person before now and I regret not knowing. I do what I must, though, and for that I know I would never be able to listen to your songs. Thank you for your benevolence toward me, even knowing I am of the kind that is dangerous toward yourself.”

“If you continue to remove dangerous things from those who would abuse them, then I wish you luck,” You said, meaning it. Not just anyone would turn over what they had found to be locked away. And while his dark magic was fresh and potent, perhaps it was because he needed it to get those items. “May I ask, what were you doing in the forest?”

He blinked in surprise. “The forest? Oh…I…I’d actually heard that the forest was quite nice and I have this stupid pheonix that’s bound to me and he goes and gets into all sorts of trouble if I don’t properly exercise him.” He looked around. “Thinking of…you haven’t happened to see a pheonix?”

You shook your head rapidly.

Jin shook his head as well.

He sighed. “He probably went after the dragon magic, the stupid fledgling. Well. Either he gets eaten or he learns a lesson. Thank you for your time.” He bowed again and hopped into the truck.

“Dragon?” Jin asked, eyes wide.

“The river dragon, probably,” You offered.

Jin looked at you like you’d grown a second hand.

“Jungkook and I ran across him when we were passing the time before going to look for you. He’s my river-kin, apparently.”

Jin shook his head, showing you the vaults for the books you would care for, how to access them and such. “Of course he is.”

“Hoseok looked pale.”

“Yeah. He’s not as strong as he likes to convey.”

“Are any of us?”

Jin kissed your cheek. “Probably not.”

You ran your fingers along the mortar between the bricks. “Do you think he had an ulterior motive?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. You want to stay at the library?”

You nodded. “I have work to do. Jimin will probably stay with me.”

He nodded. “I don’t think Taehyung will leave now, either. Is that okay?”

“He’s cute. Jimin and I can keep an eye on him.”

“Okay. I’m going to take the others home, then. Make sure Hoseok gets some water, food, and rest.” Jin kissed your cheek. “Don’t speak a word to the others about what books are hidden in the vaults. Or about the books I will be hiding. It’ll be safer.”

You nodded firmly. “Agreed. It’s for their own well-being. Hoseok knows.”

He nodded. “Probably.”

Yoongi stalked up in his black and grey form—his largest form—and then paused, getting ready to leap into Jin’s arms.

Jin stroked Yoongi’s head. “Hey. We��re okay. Thanks for worrying.”

Yoongi just snorted and rested, acting like he’d intended to fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

You reached over and scratched his head, then went into the library to finally do the work that you hadn’t been able to get done in the past three days.

–

Post-Chapter 9 Survey

Previous. Next.

Masterlist. Clearwater Springs Masterpost.

–

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#clearwater springs fic #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fanfic #bts ot7 #soulmate au #fairy au #magic au #bts ot7 x reader #Jimin #Jungkook #Hoseok #Seokjin #Yoongi #Namjoon #Taehyung

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luckyasfuck · 4 years

Text

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS 5, [6], 7, ...

pairing // katsuki x female reader

tw // cussing, smut

warnings for this part // masturbation, bondage, sensory deprivation, use of toys, voyuerism kink

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n

words // 1.4k

a/n // wont be updating for a while :((

previous part I masterlist

“no funny business, blondie.”

for some reason, the librarian decided to close the library early. an emergency, the staff said. it was already closed and locked up when the duo got there with none of the other teachers having the key. they said the librarian left without warning and apologized to the pissed off students and offered the idea of one of them going to the others house to study if they really wanted to. and that’s how y/n ended up here, sitting criss-cross on katsuki’s living room. the blonde sat right in front of her, preparing and scheduling the things they would be studying.

the competition was nearing and they both really needed to study. none of them want to admit but it is a bit easier studying together, both of them had their advantages and disadvantages on each subject and with each other, it was just... easier. “well, if you keep staring at me like that i won’t be able to stop myself.” katsuki looked up and smirked before going back to the papers splayed out in front of him. their mini little library session got them uncomfy to use the library at that time, right after that happened.

y/n was sure of one thing: she still hated his guts. sure, his cock felt awesome but that doesn’t push away the fact that he’s her biggest competition. there’s no reply as she glared right at him, rolling her eyes at what he just said. “you don’t record here?” and with that, the mood completely shifts. for katsuki, the tension grows and the room suddenly feels stuffy as he shifts from where he’s sitting. “what kind of mood up-lifter question is that?”

“who said i was trying to lift the mood? it’s a genuine question.” y/n glared, seemingly not bothered with what she just asked. does she ask questions like this on the daily? goddamn. katsuki gulped, “no. it’s upstairs.” with a quick glance at the girl, he sees her looking at his small flight of stairs. he sighs and looks back down, keeping himself occupied. “you know, you own a lot of vibrators.” y/n could feel the mood shift too as she felt a thin layer of sweat cover her neck slowly.

“can we not talk about this-” quickly finishing up the papers, katsuki rolls his eyes and looks up, only to flinch back at the sight of y/n’s face meters away from his. the tension grew stronger and his heart speeds up. in nervousness. he reassures himself, looking away from her eyes. “i heard you like challenges.” a soft hand brings him back to her gaze. “here’s a challenge for you: no fucking, blondie.” soft hot breaths fanned at his lips as she said that, the warmth of her hand disappearing as she took the papers she needed and slinking back into her spot, reading innocently through the introduction page as if nothing happened.

the throbbing inside his pants brings katsuki back, trying to even out his breathing. this goes unnoticed by y/n as she started to write down the questions she didn’t understand in hopes the boy could help her later. eyes spanning to the papers, she notices the tent in his pants right before he hides. sweat starts to form on katsuki’s forehead as he took a paper from the stack and y/n feels herself throb, cussing mentally at how hard this “challenge” was gonna be for her too. “fix it, i’ll let you off this time.” she doesn’t dare lock eyes with him, opting to pretend to answer and write notes instead.

in seconds, katsuki is tumbling over his own feet to the bathroom, leaving her all alone. the door is slammed open and left open as he sat on the toilet, palming himself through his clothes before stripping them down to his ankles. he grabs his tip, thumb running through his slit as he let out a silent moan. meanwhile, a shiver runs through y/n’s spine when she hears it. the sound is not muffled, so maybe he left the door open. on purpose. that fucker. it wasn’t fair, she couldn’t just plop down on his couch and get off to his moans, now could she? she had a decent amount of self-respect not to do that.

the image of her made his mind hazy, how she looked when she was that close, how she’d look drooling all over his cock, how she’d look when she’d fucked out with his cum dripping out of her slowly. the quivering of his legs don’t stop as he neared his orgasm, moaning uncontrollably now. he totally forgets that he’s brought the girl over, a hand tugging gently at his balls. “ah~ f-feels so good- fuck!” in a second, he’s creaming all over his hand at the thought of y/n. like he’s done probably everyday of this week.

the house goes silent but katsuki still hasn’t come out of the bathroom because the shaking of his legs never ceased. y/n was left in the living room, wetness pooling in her panties, making her uncomfortable. she’s sure she’s read this paragraph already, but her thoughts can’t function properly, the audible sounds from the bathroom clouding her mind with dirty thoughts about him.

the sound of the bathroom door closing echoes around the silent house, heavy footsteps being heard from above. assuming that katsuki was headed back, y/n gulps and tries to focus on studying. it’s been minutes and she still hasn’t understood a word, and he hasn’t come back. wanting to get this bullshit over with, she stand up with a huff, heading upstairs.

the bathroom door is closed, there are two rooms down the small hallway and one of them was labeled storage room. the other room is probably his bedroom, the door is left slightly opened and y/n sighed. she knocks on the bathroom door, no answer.

“woman, i’m over here.”

a slightly muffled voice originating from the bedroom said. this felt like a horror movie. y/n was sweating underneath her hoodie, the cold air seemingly doing nothing to help her as she approached the bedroom with heavy, angry steps. “what in fucks name are you doing, we’re supposed to be studying-”

and there lied bakugou katsuki. all of his clothes were stripped off as he sat comfortably in his bed, leaning on the headboard and stroking his cock slowly. his toes curl and his cock twitches as the sight of her, noticing the way she rubs her thighs together for some sort of pleasure to be sent to her cunt. she didn’t move, she stayed there in shock, staring right at him. staring right at his cock. the muscles on his stomach flexed slightly as he started to stroke himself faster, but he wills himself to stop for a second.

the blonde stands up from his spot and jumps out the bed, walking over to y/n. in a swift movement, she’s pinned to the wall, toned muscles keeping her in place. she tries to look at anything besides him- he’s naked, for fucks sake. but she can’t. not when his face is centimeters away from hers, doing the trick she did not too long ago. “as long as my dick isn’t shoved inside you, we’re not fucking. right? right. now be a good girl, get on that fucking bed and let me do whatever i please with you.”

wrists tied and vision taken away by a blindfold, y/n whined slightly as she was stripped of her panties. katsuki’s hand roamed all around her body, caressing her boobs and gripping her jaw. soon, the warmth disappeared as he pulled away, leaving her there. shuffling is heard at the corner of the room before he spoke up. “i would put you on live but other people don’t deserve to hear your pretty love sounds and that sweet fucking pussy.” slight buzzing is heard and it grows louder and louder as he approached her.

“only i fucking get to savor that.”

a hand shoves y/n’s legs apart, a vibrator instantly shoved up against her sensitive clit making her flinch, trying to move away from the toy. this makes katsuki chuckle a bit, shoving it even harder on her bundle of nerves. “i bought this one yesterday, i was gonna try it on myself but you decided to show up.” he licked a stripe up her cheek as she whined and moaned, trembling slightly. “’s too sensitive~” the female slurred, mouth wide open in pleasure.

“too sensitive? too fucking bad.” the vibrator is moved all around her pussy before it’s shoved inside her hole and put to the highest setting. unseen tears well up in her eyes as she cries out, hands pulling at the rope that kept them in place and head lolling back. “let’s reverse the roles,” katsuki pulled the chair from his desk, propping it up on the edge of the bed.

“this time, i’ll be the one watching you.”

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charlotte-headcanons · 3 years

Note

Hey! How have ypu been? 2,3,6,7,9,15 Who else but Monty (Kata, Brulee, Peros too :D) yeah it's a big order!

Phew, that one sure took a while! But everything for you, friend 💕💕 We're alright, hope you've been well too! ✨

Some practicalities first: We decided to organize this answer by characters, for maximum space to go into detail on each headcanon! Some headcanons pertain to our modern AU rather than to the One Piece canon as we found these headcanons worked better for a particular prompt: we'll indicate those at the start of each bullet point!

Send us a number and a character and we'll post headcanons!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Mont D'Or is a librarian by passion and a prosecutor by profession. He opened up and manages his own library in the early mornings and late evenings, but in-between that, he works on court cases. He might be overworked, and is definitely a workaholic but he hardly ever slacks off on either of his careers; and he's notorious for being professional, convincing, and very attached to every case. Highly principled unless Mama orders him to do something for her, he refuses to prosecute those he doesn't believe should be prosecuted, and for those he wants to face justice - he will get so heated that he might get reprimanded by judges for yelling or by cops and detectives for joining their investigations uninvited. His sister, Galette, is his secretary, and she follows him around everywhere, helping out however much she can!

3. Drinking headcanon

Mont D'Or... might have a bit of an alcohol problem. It's not that he gets drunk often... but he does drink regularly. Essentially, every time his siblings piss him off, he takes a sip, so you can imagine how many sips accumulate throughout the day. His prefer drink is red dry wine and he mostly drinks alone, without witnesses, not to give a bad example! To get really drunk, he would have to drink a lot; but if he does get drunk, he mostly gets more explosive than usual or somewhat lagged out, processing all information input slower than normally.

6. Musical headcanon

In Mont D'Or's eyes, the main function music has is to help him either focus or unwind. For both of these roles, he enjoys classical music most - think especially something akin to Wagner. He despises loud music and prefers instrumental pieces, although he is also an opera enthusiast. His guilty pleasure, discovered quite recently, could also be lo-fi kind of music! It calms him down a little, even though he doesn't like to be caught listening to it, as his expressed music-related opinions are overall quite snobbish.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Mont D'Or would gladly cook if he had the time for it; but being as busy as he is, he is forced to depend on others and on ordering food throughout each day. His tastes encompass rather fancy cuisine: he adores charcuterie boards and seafood, refuses to eat fast food, adds cheese to pretty much everything that is remotely acceptable like an apple pie and calls it an acquired taste. Besides that, he always likes to have a cookie with his black coffee; considering how much coffee he drinks every day, that is a lot of cookies consumed!

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Mont D'Or was known as just a nerd. He was way more shy and less aggressive than he is now; it was only over time, having been ridiculed by some siblings for his unconventional (in this family) interests, that he toughened up and learned to stand up for himself. Ever since he learned to read, Mont D'Or was a frequent visitor to all libraries of Totto Land. At the time, there weren't that many, nor did they have impressive book collections, so soon enough, Mont D'Or started reading books way above his age target group, and by the time he came of age, he was disappointed to find out that he has already read every book currently available within Big Mom's territory. At first, little Mont D'Or wasn't quite sure what he can offer to his family of murderous pirates: he wasn't strong nor all that ruthless, and his strengths could be found rather in the areas that wouldn't be that useful for sailing or plundering. He also felt lonely before Galette came along, and he could most often be found alone, or around Compote, who had a soft spot for her smart little brother. Eventually, Mont D'Or figured out that strategy and organization were the areas where his family could need him, though; from there, he moved on to transform from a quiet nerd into a pillar of Big Mom Pirates’ planning.

15. School headcanon

Besides setting up many more libraries in Totto Land than it once had, Mont D'Or took it onto himself to kickstart a proper education system in his mother's territory. In the past, none of the Charlotte siblings went through formalized education, rather having to learn from experience or directly from Big Mom, other pirates, and from each other. Now, Mont D'Or makes sure that teachers are recruited to Totto, and at least basic schools (available universally) are established!

Modern AU: It is probably not surprising that at school, Mont D'Or would be a straight-A's student. Stellar at every test, he would however not be all that liked by the teachers due to his behavior problems. His temper and lack of respect for authority if the authority is wrong would both make him a troublesome student to get in conflict with. He'd absolutely correct the teachers on their mistakes, and if they dared refuse to acknowledge their faults... he would yell. 😔

Katakuri, Brulee, and Perospero under the cut!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we discussed in a previous post, Katakuri would definitely be every parent's dream child, aka a doctor and a lawyer in one! A neurologist and an advocate, Katakuri would be very close to burnout, and wouldn't really actively work in the law field anymore, not wanting to infringe on Mont D'Or's turf. He would definitely work too much, but telling him to rest would hardly be a solution: with his perfectionism, he would not be able to sleep unless his task was carried out well. He wouldn't like his job all that much, really, but he'd still keep it to continue supporting his younger or less talented siblings with his money; and not to disappoint his mother, of course.

3. Drinking headcanon

Katakuri refuses to drink alcohol, finding every possible excuse to not be pressured into it. First of all, he just doesn't want to show his mouth, lay down, or do something even more embarassing for anyone to see if he gets drunk. More importantly, though, he is scared of falling into an addiction as a coping method, so he prefers to just avoid the temptation altogether. If possible, he'd rather not be around drunk people, too!

6. Musical headcanon

Katakuri enjoys all kinds of music and has quite a diverse tastes, with some of his favorites coming from indie rock, metal, cute pixel music, grunge, and more. He is quite embarrassed to share the music he listens to, so when possible, he listens to it on headphones. When he's fully convinced that he's alone, he might sing a little or bob his head to the music he enjoys; if listening to songs around people, though, he'll keep a fully straight, unmoved face.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

As the supreme donut lover, Katakuri actually has a secret bucket list of all flavors of donuts he wants to try! He cares about the textures of food a lot, and generally prefers soft and chewy things. To set him apart from Luffy, Katakuri also doesn't really like meat, with few exceptions! Sometimes, Katakuri joins Perospero in his morning tea drinking sessions, and it was from his older brother that he learned to like his tea very sweet. As for cooking, he tried it as a child, but found to have little patience for it back then; now, he'd probably do way better if he tried to cook, but just like Mont D'Or, he just doesn't have the time!

9. Childhood headcanon

Katakuri is probably the Charlotte that changed the most since his early childhood. Before the Brulee incident, he was actually a rather lazy, even if talented, kid. To get him to train, an incentive of donuts was always necessary; and having been highly influenced by Daifuku and Oven, he also used to be a bit of a troublemaker. If anyone made fun of him or annoyed him, they would always see Katakuri throwing hands - he was far more eruptive than now and didn't really care what others thought. Brulee getting hurt because of him, though, had a life-changing effect on him; and it effectively molded him into the hardworking, serious, troubled person that he is now.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Despite starting off as a troublemaker who slept through the boring classes, these days Katakuri is a model student, and many teachers marvel at his transformation. He is just as good in sciences as in sports, and often represents his school in various competitions, regularly winning too! Although he gets A's in everything, his favorite school subjects remain the humanities. After school, he revises the lesson material for exactly an hour every day, but doesn't need to study much before tests, having a great memory and a kind of sixth sense for filtering out important information. Despite not wanting to be in the spotlight, he's very popular with fellow students and a lot of classmates have secret crushes on him, girls or guys!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we headcanon, one of Brulee's main hobbies is tending to her herbal garden, and she knows a lot about the healing properties of plants! Naturally, then, she would gladly choose pharmacy as her career path: the calm atmosphere combined with helping others would fit her vibe perfectly. Besides that, she would also work voluntarily babysitting the children of her siblings; the kids would always be kind of scared of her at first, but soon enough they would outright cry whenever she would have to leave even just for a moment.

3. Drinking headcanon

Brulee drinks alcohol rarely and in small amounts; mostly as an addition to a good dinner. She is an extreme lightweight, so anything more than one glass of her favorite white wine results in her becoming way more clumsy than usual and inevitably getting a next-morning headache. To avoid this, she makes sure to never drink more than she knows she can handle!

6. Musical headcanon

Another classical music lover, Brulee would enjoy something akin to Schubert's songs most! Even though she isn't the best at it, with her voice being just a bit too nasal and too scratchy, Brulee likes to sing (especially ballads and lullabies!) and often hums while working. Having a bit more free time than most of her siblings, Brulee also managed to learn some instruments, albeit she only ever stuck to the basics and simple pieces. The piano is the instrument she plays rather well, so she can teach her younger siblings how to play a few easy songs if they so please; very recently, she also picked up the violin, and she enjoys practicing it although, so far, the sounds she can make hardly resemble what she would like to hear.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Brulee cooks a lot and enjoys doing that a bunch! She's quite experimental and healthy with her recipes, and prefers salty foods as well as meat or soups. As a result, she is one of the few bastions that keep some of her siblings from succumbing to dessert-only diets. Once in a while, she bakes bread too; since she always cooks way more food than she needs, she often ends up sharing or donating it! You can almost always smell something cooking up in her hut; even if Totto Land has so many high-level chefs, Brulee still likes to make her own, homemade food herself.

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Brulee was much more anxious than she is now. She was always a bit awkward and clumsy, and kind of bullied for her witchy appearance by the other children in ports and in Totto Land. Over time, she learned to embrace herself, though; in the stories her older siblings told her, she always identified with the witches, and she later proceeded to amplify this image of herself as much as possible, instead of resenting it!

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Brulee would be a mediocre student, who'd be kind of picked on, at least until Katakuri got all set on defending her! Her favorite school subject would be history, and she'd also enjoy some parts of biology - though she'd much rather learn about plants and animals than the human insides. Always a sweetheart, Brulee would enjoy secretly making her classmates happy with little anonymous gifts; each birthday or Valentine's Day, anyone could count on at least one card from a secret friend, who everyone would suspect to be her, as she isn't all that great at hiding.

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Perospero would be an interior designer, but really, one of a kind. Even if just designing a chair, he'd see his work as art and himself as an artist, and he'd act accordingly. Cracker Any architect unlucky enough to have to work with him would end up in despair as he'd blatanly ignore the technical limits and capacities of a building for the aesthetic. Likewise, his clients would have to be prepared for many unexpected decisions and costs: Perospero would not take orders from them but always stick to what he thinks looks good, no matter how intricate or expensive. Effectively, the only clients brave enough to employ him more than once would be the rich and extravagant ones: those would appreciate his work immensely, while anyone remotely more practical would have to complain.

3. Drinking headcanon

Perospero parties and gets drunk quite often, although he exclusively drinks overly sweet cocktails and never drinks outside of a social context! When he has too much to drink, he gets either hyper, horny, or annoying - or all three at once - depending on his mood. Whichever it is, he also loses all understanding of personal space, gets a lot more touchy, and much more likely to lick everyone and everything. At the end of the night, he has the tendency to pretend that he's much more drunk than he actually is, too, hoping that someone will carry him home like the princess he wants to be; though most of the time, it just ends up with Daifuku pulling him back by the leg.

6. Musical headcanon

Perospero loves to sing, especially publically, and he's surprisingly good at it! damn I really got a stroke first time I heard him sing, like, my man, how can you sing so well with an entire tongue out wtf Perospero explain. His preferred repertoire of music to sing includes all sorts of songs from musicals; as for music to listen to, he ranges between musicals and hyperpop, or any music sweet and bubbly on the outside but disturbing and horror-like as it develops!

7. Food/cooking headcanon

Perospero does not cook on principle, insisting that they have the chefs for it. His diet as a whole is downright atrocious; he adds sugar to quite literally everything, acts dramatically, as if he was poisoned if forced to eat anything not sweet enough, and mostly lives off candy. His 'tea' can hardly be called that anymore, considering that it contains more syrups and sugar than tea itself. Basically, Compote gets chills whenever she sees him eat and continuously marvels at how the fuck he is still alive.

9. Childhood headcanon

Having to take care of his siblings early on, Perospero didn't get much of a careless childhood. Once Linlin was unable to keep all children with her on the Rocks Pirates ship, by the time he was 8, he was put in charge of all the younger siblings she left in a port (while Compote was looking over the ones that stayed with Linlin on the ship). Perospero looks back at his childhood fondly, though; he liked ordering his brothers and sisters around, liked being in charge, and especially loved being admired and looked up to as the eldest sibling role model. Once Katakuri became a new favorite of the family, Perospero was so jealous and grumpy for a while that he even went through a rebellious phase of trying to run away; he came back less than a day later though, having cried his eyes out once missing his family and homesickness kicked in, never to try to leave ever again.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: At school, Perospero would definitely focus on socializing way more than on learning. Among the teachers, he would be known as a smart but lazy kind of student, doing the bare minimum for most classes, though excelling in art and music. He would have mostly girl friends, essentially running his own mean girls group; together with them, he'd always come up with excuses to not exercise during P.E. so that his looks don't get ruined and so that he can just spend the time gossiping about the guys instead. If someone got on his bad side, Perospero would also not be above bullying them, although he wouldn't do that in a conventional way - rather, he'd just make his victims severely uncomfortable, getting way to close, switching between flirty and dangerous tones, and making them feel trapped before just backing off and laughing. An absolute menace to society, even in a modern AU 😔

If you managed to get through all of this, we salute you, soldier 🎖️Hope you enjoyed, though! ✨ It was sure fun to come up with. Thanks for the ask! 💕

#one piece #charlotte katakuri #charlotte perospero #charlotte brulee #charlotte mont d'or #ask

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prettyboongi · 4 years

Text

Morning Ride

fem!Reader x Park Jimin

Word Count: 1,902

Genre: Smut (w/ some crack)

Rating: Mature

Warning: grinding, dry humping, car sex, nipple play, public sex, sexual humiliation, numerous mentions of Jimin’s juicy lips lol

[A/N: So this story really came out of nowhere. Please forgive me if this comes off as super cringy, I tried my best with this one. Oh and you might notice that I’m kinda obsessed with Jimin’s lips lmao Please feel free to leave any kind of feedback.]

You were contently eating your blueberry bagel, waiting for the guys to pick you up for school. It had just turned 10 am so you knew they should be on their way. Unlike Taehyung, Jungkook and your boyfriend Jimin, your classes don't actually begin until the afternoon. It was just more convenient to wake up early and tag along with them. While the guys attended their classes, you usually just spent time in the university's library reading a book or studying.

As you sipped your lukewarm green tea, you finally received the text you were expecting.

Jiminie: We're here. Come outside

On that note, you quickly finished your bagel, slipped on your shoes, grabbed your bag and headed out the door.

You reflexively covered your eyes with your hand to shield it from the bright, mid-morning sun as you walked towards Taehyung's gaudy purple car. While the car was nice, you never understand why he chose the color purple for it. "It looks like something a pimp would drive, dude," you clowned him when he first got it. But seeing that he would be gracious enough to give you and the gang rides, you refrain from further making fun of it. At least not to his face.

You gave the guys a little wave as you were approaching and they waved back. With Taehyung driving, Jungkook was in the passenger seat beside him. Leaving your boyfriend, Jimin, the love of your life, in the backseat behind Jungkook. You see him smile brightly as you walk towards them; even after 3 years of dating, his smile never fails to make you feel tingly inside.

As usual, you get around behind the car to sit on the other side of the car.

"Wait, Y/N, there's-," you hear Taehyung say to you from his opened window but you had already opened the car door. Expecting to see a free spot next to your boyfriend, all you see is a huge block of metal in your way.

"What the hell is this?," you asked Taehyung.

"Oh that's my safe," he answers matter of factly. You took another look at the metal box and it was, indeed, a safe.

"Okay better question: why do you have a safe?"

"So I can keep stuff in it. Duh." He responds, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Can you please move it to the trunk or something?" It was too early to deal with your friend's eccentricities.

Taehyung shakes his head. "No, it weighs a fuck ton. You'll just have to sit on Jimin's lap."

"What?!" Not only you knew that option was illegal and potentially dangerous, you also knew the type of person your boyfriend was. One word: handsy.

"Come on, y/n!," you hear Jungkook whined from the passenger seat. "Just get in, we're gonna be late for philosophy and I really don't wanna be berated by Professor Lee again."

Feeling defeated, you slammed the door shut and walked around towards Jimin's side. Once you opened his door, you find Jimin giving you a cheeky smile. He pats his tights and says to you in a playful tone, "Well hop in, honey." You huffed at him but it's not like you had a choice.

You carefully sild into the car and sat on his lap. As Taehyung starts to drive again, you turned your head back to Jimin. "No funny business, you understand?," you whisper. But he just give you a smile, the mischievous kind where you know he's going to be up to no good.

During the drive, you listen to Jungkook rant about how much of a weirdo Prof. Lee was. You were laughing at Jungkook's insistent whining when you started to feel something on your back. It felt soft and warm, it doesn't take you long to realize that you were feeling Jimin's lips pressed against the fabric of the shirt.

"Dammit, Jimin," you cursed in your head. You were about to turn around and silently scold him but the feel of him leaving delicate kisses on your back was so heavenly, it stops you. You tried your best to ignore his kisses and listen to your friends' conversation. However, it was super difficult to focus due to your boyfriend peppering your back with his soft lips. As he was doing just that, Jimin began to grip your hips, which immediately made you reminisce of the countless times you would lose yourself while frantically riding him reverse cowgirl style. With that, you couldn't help yourself but respond to his actions by slowly grinding on him. You tried your best to be subtle since it would be more than embarrassing if Taehyung and Jungkook found out the two of you are practically dry humping on the backseat.

When you thought this gratifying torture wouldn't end, you and guys finally arrive at school. As Taehyung finds and parks in an empty spot, you feel Jimin leave one more lingering and loving kiss and wrap his arms around you. You honestly want to stay in that moment but second the engine stopped, you had to get out. You quickly got off Jimin and out of the car, so he can get off and for you to cool down your flustered state. Even though the fresh air does feel good on your hot skin, you were still incredibly horny and you needed to think of a way to relieve it.

"Um, Tae," you called out for him as he got out of the car, "is it alright if I could take a nap in your car? I didn't really sleep well last night and I could use some rest."

Taehyung looks at you quizzically. "Aren't you heading to the library? Just take a nap there. Jungkook does it all the time."

Jungkook nods. "Surprisingly their encyclopedias make great pillows."

"Actually, the librarians are cracking down on renegade nappers and kicking them out," you lied.

"Well," Taehyung hesitates but you shoot him your signature pouty puppy dog look, knowing it will soften him. And you succeeded.

"Okay, okay," he says annoyed, "just remember to lock the door when you leave."

"Thanks, Tae," you give him a small smile.

As you watch the boys walk towards the campus, Jimin stops and turns his head to you. He winks, indicating that he knows your plan and starts to walk away again You feel your face getting hot again.

You got in the passenger seat and put up Taehyung's sun reflectors to block each window. When you're done, you slide off your already partially damp panties and toss them in the back.

It was going to take awhile so you just leaned back and closed your eyes, causing you to actually drift off a bit. You were then woken up by a tap of the window glass on the driver's side. You unlocked the door and Jimin quickly got inside.

"Sorry, it took me so long. I had to wait for the Professor Lee to be well into the lecture." Jimin slightly lifts himself up above his seat and pulls down his jeans and boxers, with his erect pens already springing up.

"Oh," you said in a rather flattered tone, "I didn't think you wanted me that much."

"Of course, Y/N," Jimin blushes a bit,"the minute I found out you had to sit on me during the drive, I knew I was a goner."

Seeing Jimin's sudden bashfulness, compared to his bold actions from before, made your heart fluttered. And somehow it made you even more aroused.

As you lifted yourself up from the passenger seat, you hiked your skirt up and carefully straddled onto Jimin's bare lap. Slowly and teasingly, you slide yourself down until you completely engorged Jimin's rigid cock.

"Ah," a low moan escaped your throat. Placing your hands on Jimin's body shoulders, you begin to rock your hips back and forth. You gradually pick up the pace, causing you to pant and moan vigorously.

"You drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?," you lamented, having trouble steadying your voice.

You watch Jimin's eyes flutter, lost in total ecstasy. "Isn't that the point, Pop Tart?"

Like earlier, you felt Jimin grip your hips tightly. He pushes himself further inside, matching your rhythm.

"Fuck, Y/N," Jimin groans, "Unbutton your shirt."

Obediently, you untucked your button up blouse from your skirt and swiftly unbuttoned it, exposing your pink-white polka dot bra.

Jimin lifts up his hands from your waist and begins to grope your breasts firmly. You throw your head back in pleasure as Jimin kneads your chest and rubs your peaked nips through the fabric of your bra. Not being able to take the teasing any longer, you unhooked your bra in seconds, causing your breasts to spill out and jiggle inches from Jimin’s face.

As if without thinking, Jimin pulls you towards him and takes one of your tits in his mouth. The feel of Jimin’s supple lips on your nipple and his tongue swirling around it makes your mind go fuzzy. You rock yourself faster and deeper onto Jimin’s cock, clenching your sides around him.

Jimin stops sucking your nip and leans back in his seat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans breathlessly, “Just like that, baby.”

The air in the car was starting to getting thick with your heated breaths and the familiar aromatic scent of sex. The lack of fresh air was making you feel a bit lightheaded but that somehow made this tryst even more erotic.

You feel your core tightening, sensing your orgasm arriving. You lean into Jimin, tightly gripping his shoulders, preparing for the feeling of fireworks exploding throughout your body.

But instead, you feel the rush of cool air as the driver is opened wide. To your horror, you and Jimin turn your heads to find an extremely displeased Taehyung.

“What the fuck are you two doing in my car?!,” he shouts.

“What do you think we’re doing, genius?,” Jimin retorts.

Taehyung's eyes darken in anger. “Both of you, out now-.”

Before he could finish his sentence, as the situation wasn’t humiliating enough, you unexpectedly found your body writhing from one of the most explosive orgasms you ever had.

“Ah!,” you loudly moan, involuntarily rolling your hips to ride out the pleasure.

Taehyung freezes in place, not believing what he just witnessed.

You then proceed to feel Jimin’s cock twitch and thrust deeply inside you, moaning audibly for Taehyung to hear as well.

“Ugh! You two are fucking gross!,” you hear Taehyung yells before slamming the door shut.

After a moment reeling from your intense climaxes, the both of you looked at each and burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” you said, face palming, “I can’t that just happened. I’m so embarrassed.”

Jimin smiles at you. “Yeah, me too. But at least it felt good, right?”

You smiled back at him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Yeah, really good.” Cupping his face, you leaned in once again to kiss him more passionately. You savored the feel of Jimin’s ever soft, buttery lips, the same lips that never fails to drive you absolutely wild.

You both knew for the rest of the day and possibly week, Taehyung was going to continue unleashing his wrath towards you two. But really, it was his fault for leaving that stupid safe in the backseat.

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Once Newt and Hermann finally move in together, Newt accidentally stumbles upon Hermann's vibrator. Newt gets hard immediately just imagining his beautiful sexy husband using it on himself. Newt wants to see that. Newt wants to do that. Newt wants to see Hermann fuck himself with his vibrator, and fuck Hermann with his vibrator. Hermann's all adorably flustered when Newt brings it up, and then he sees just how turned on Newt is by the idea.

well uh. this is (as you might expect) kind of a hard 18+/not safe for work

———————-

“Need help with that?” Newt says.

Hermann heaves a small cardboard box up to his bad hip with a groan; Hermann Gottlieb is written on the side in Sharpie, in Hermann’s neat, tidy hand. All of his boxes are marked similarly. It’s kind of cute, really, that he even bothers–half of his stuff is Newt’s now anyway, and vice-versa, and truthfully has been since the lab. Odds are it’s stuffed with their shared mugs or papers Newt co-authored. “No, no,” he says. “I can manage.”

The box doesn’t look particularly heavy, but Hermann’s been quite insistent on not leaving all the heavy lifting to Newt all day, and he’s wincing in a way that means he might’ve strained himself a bit too much. Newt shoots him a small smile and places a hand on the box. “Hey, look, why don’t you take a break?” he says. “We only have a few things left. It’ll take me, like, ten minutes. Go test out the new couch. Better yet, find us some fucking dinner. I’m starving.”

The previous renter left behind a drawer full of take-out menus (which Newt discovered as he attempted to unpack their mis-matched collection of utensils earlier), and Newt’s sure at least one of them will be promising. Hermann returns the smile gratefully and relinquishes his hold on the box. Newt was right–it’s not very heavy. Pretty light, in fact. “Alright. If you’re sure.” Hermann presses a kiss to the corner of Newt’s mouth. “Is there anything you’re particularly in the mood for?”

“Nah,” Newt says, and then catches Hermann’s sleeve with his free hand to reel him in for a much filthier kiss. “Something quick. I have plans.” Those plans involve spending plenty of time breaking in their nice big, new, soft bed, before the exhaustion of the day inevitably catches up to them.

“I see,” Hermann says, and adds wryly, “Perhaps I ought to take a nap, too.”

Newt gives him another kiss for his troubles, enjoying the small sound Hermann makes into his mouth when he flicks his tongue against the seam of his lips. But when Newt pulls away, Hermann’s all business. “Do be careful with that,” he says, eyeing the box Newt took from him warily. “Its contents are–er–rather delicate.”

Mugs after all, then. Or maybe family photographs. “Kitchen?” Newt says, already headed down the hallway.

“Bedroom,” Hermann says. Oh. Newt does a one-eighty in the opposite direction. “Er–just leave it on the bureau. I’ll deal with it…later.”

Now, Newt’s no snoop, and he would certainly never go through Hermann’s possessions without permission–mutual trust, respecting boundaries, all that shit that healthy couples need–but accidents happen. He’s only trying to be helpful. He puts the box on the bureau, as Hermann instructed, but he must do it a little too hard, because its contents roll around and clatter and thud, and then–bewilderingly–begin to vibrate.

Newt shakes the box. It doesn’t stop.

He peels off the packing tape.

He’s not really sure what he expects to find in it besides the obvious: there are very few things a vibrating box deposited into a bedroom can contain, after all. Sure enough, when Newt opens the flaps, he finds himself staring down at a pretty high-end bottle of lubricant and the most expensive-looking vibrator in existence. A vibrator that’s currently buzzing. Newt flicks it off quickly, then–before he can help himself–picks it up.

Hermann has a vibrator. Hermann has a nice vibrator. It’s long, and curved, and made of a dark material that is fucking amazing to the touch. Another glance in the box reveals a small remote control, with settings in speed and rhythm all the way from one to ten, and a few bonus ones labelled with things like Pleasure Overload.

Hermann uses a vibrator that has settings for things like Pleasure Overload.

“Hol-lee shit,” Newt whistles.

Newt can picture it now: Hermann, stripped bare, face down on his bed, writhing and gasping in pleasure as he crams the vibrator into himself over and over. Begging aloud for it to go faster. Coming, untouched, all over his pasty chest, his rumpled sheets, wailing into his pillow as he fucks himself through it, not even stopping–

“Newton?” Hermann calls.

Newt throws the vibrator back into the box and tapes it messily back shut. There’s nothing to be done about his raging boner, but maybe Hermann will be too distracted by the Thai or Italian or whatever takeout to notice it. He pokes his head out of the bedroom. “Yeah, babe?” he says, heart thudding.

No Hermann in sight. Hermann’s voice comes from the living room when he speaks again. “What on Earth is keeping you?” he says. “I need to know what you want on your pizza.”

Hermann uses a vibrator. Hermann uses settings like Pleasure Overload.

“Mushrooms,” Newt croaks.

“What’s that?”

Newt swallows thickly and steps into the living room. Hermann is sprawled out on the new couch, his cane settled against one of the armrests. Luckily, he’s too engrossed in the pizza menu to look up and catch sight of Newt’s little problem. “You ought to look this over,” he says in a hum. “They have some very interesting combinations. This one has shrimp, and onions–and this one is called the Athenian, with feta cheese, black olives–oh, I forgot, you don’t like olives. Too salty, anyway. Though I suppose we could order it without if we wanted to, but that doesn’t seem to quite fit the spirit, does it…”

It isn’t like Hermann doesn’t have sex. Hermann has sex plenty, Newt as his enthusiastic witness. Hermann fucks Newt. Newt fucks Hermann. Hermann sucks Newt’s dick, and jerks him off in the shower, and moans like a whore when Newt gets his tongue in him. But a vibrator’s different, isn’t it? A vibrator isn’t just sex, and it isn’t even just jerking off–it’s a very certain kind of jerking off. A certain kind of jerking off he hasn’t even let Newt be privy to. They haven’t even used dildos together.

It’s hard to imagine the Hermann sitting in front of him now, in a moth-eaten sweater vest and smudged librarian glasses on a chain, jamming a vibe up his ass on the reg.

“Are you even listening to me?” Hermann says.

“No,” Newt admits.

Hermann scowls, but he doesn’t push Newt away when Newt plops next to him on the sofa, nor when he starts pawing at the hem of his sweater. “Newton,” Hermann says, “I thought you wanted–dinner–” Newt mouths at his neck, and Hermann gasps. The menu slips to the floor. “Newton. We haven’t finished moving everything from–”

“I don’t give a shit,” Newt says.

He pulls Hermann’s hand down and presses it at the tented front of his jeans; Hermann’s eyebrows jump. “What has gotten into you?”

“Honey,” Newt mumbles against the skin of Hermann’s neck, “can I fuck you with your vibrator?”

Hermann’s whole body tenses. He rips his hand away in the middle of what had been a pretty nice feel-around of Newt’s junk. “My what?” he echoes shrilly.

“Your vibrator,” Newt says. Oh, right, he wasn’t supposed to know about that, was he? It’s hard to think straight when he’s horny. He grins sheepishly. “I kinda accidentally looked inside the box. You could use it on yourself instead, if you want, and I could watch.” Actually, that’s kinda hotter–no effort required for Newt, and Hermann would probably be so carried away he wouldn’t mind if Newt jerked off on his chest or something. Hot, hot, hot.

Hermann isn’t a very good sport about it. “That’s,” Hermann splutters, “that’s a very personal object, Newton! And expensive! I told you–if you hadn’t been careful–I don’t go snooping through your belongings, do I?”

“It was an accident,” Newt says, and then, in a snort, “Expensive. How expensive?”

“If you must know, I saved up a month of paychecks for it,” Hermann snaps. “And it was bloody worth it. Dealing with the you day in and day out–I was tense as anything. I would’ve cracked years ago without it, and then where would we be?”

Newt sits back against the opposite arm rest with a pout. “It was a waste of money, is what it was,” he says. “Why didn’t you just ask me to lend a little hand? Or, you know.” He leers at Hermann, parting his legs slightly. Truthfully, he is a little offended, even though they didn’t start their thing until a few months after their drift–Hermann would’ve rather dropped several hundred bucks on a piece of plastic when he had a living, breathing, and very available lab partner at the ready who would’ve done anything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. Give Newt a few cans of Red Bull, hide his Ritalin, Hermann wouldn’t have remembered his own name. It’s a crying fucking shame.

“Yes, but unlike you,” Hermann says, “it wasn’t a walking breeding ground for extraterrestrial bacteria.” He makes a face. “Who knows what I might’ve caught from you. Urgh.”

That one stings a little, even though Newt firmly believes that proper lab protocol is for losers, and he was completely justified in his lackadaisical approach to…well, everything. “Hey, dude, no fair,” he says, weakly. “My tests all came back clean!”

“This argument is ridiculous,” Hermann says. “We’re not using it, and that’s final.”

Twenty minutes later, Hermann is lying on their new bed with Newt’s fingers and a decent amount of that high-end lube up his ass. Hermann, despite his posturing, is a pushover when it comes to the promise of sex. “You’re going too slowly,” he complains, wriggling and pushing back against Newt’s hands.

“I’m going perfect,” Newt says. “It’s not my fault you’re impatient.” The lube feels awesome on his skin, kinda warm and tingly, and he can’t help but be a little disappointed he won’t get to feel it on his dick tonight. And that Hermann’s never broken it out before now. Hermann buys the lubricant they use in bulk, generic as hell and in these massive gallon-size jugs with a little soap-dispenser hand pump on top. Totally stupid. He can’t imagine what the Shatterdome delivery guy thought of them. “Hey, how come you don’t let us use the fancy stuff, dude?”

“You wouldn’t appreciate it,” Hermann says. “To the left, darling. Yes.” He sighs happily, melting against his mound of pillows, and gives his dick a few languid strokes. Newt withdraws his fingers.

“I think you’re good,” he declares. “What do you mean I wouldn’t appreciate it?”

Hermann gives him a look over his glasses. Newt understands his point, though he’s not ever going to admit it out loud; he gets a little carried away with how awesome everything is when he tops, sometimes, and Hermann gets carried away with it too. He’s not sure he’d even notice if they were using fancy lube. “Whatever,” he says, and hands over the vibe. “C’mon, I want to watch you already.”

“Impatient,” Hermann echoes with an eyeroll.

The vibe is switched on (on setting 5, to Newt’s disappointment, no pleasure overload yet) and after that, everything is all business.

“Often, if I’m–er–feeling up to it, I start–” Hermann presses the end of the vibe against his nipple, and his whole body shudders. “Ah. Oh. That’s–what I’d do, if you’d been–” The other nipple; another shudder. “Particularly–particularly dreadful one day.”

“Would you think of me?” Newt says with a grin.

“Absolutely not,” Hermann snaps.

He trails the vibe down his abdomen, stopping in the messy patch of dark pubic hair just above his dick–which, Newt notices happily, is fully hard and already wet at the tip. “Mm, maybe sometimes. I would now. Only I haven’t used it since we…”

“Yeah?” Newt says. He watches Hermann move the vibe in little circles over the thatch of hair, just avoiding his dick each time. “That’s hot.” All if it’s hot: Hermann thinking of Newt while he masturbates, Hermann masturbating, Hermann admitting that Newt is just so awesome in bed he hasn’t had to masturbate in months.

Hermann grazes the vibe down one thigh, shivering this time. “Most of the time I’d just–”

He pushes half the vibrator into himself in one sharp motion; his dick gives an equally sharp jerk. Newt and Hermann, meanwhile, moan in unison. “Goddamn, Hermann,” Newt whines, eyes glued to Hermann’s stretched, red rim, the sleek little bit of machine it twitches around. “That’s really hot.”

But Hermann’s eyes are screwed up tight in concentration behind his lopsided glasses, and he pays Newt no mind as he grips the base of the vibe and continues to push it deeper, breath coming out in a series of short, needy puffs. “How’s it feel?” Newt says. “Tell me, I want–”

“Very–very good.” Hermann grips his dick, tugging on it as he works the vibe in and out of himself in perfect tandem. He’s going nice and slow. Slower than Newt would go. Newt’s not surprised–Hermann told him it was meant to be stress relief, after all. (Maybe that’s why Hermann was always a bit more cheerful the morning after they’d had a nasty fight in the lab.) “Newton,” he groans.

Newt can’t help it: he bends down and kisses him. Hermann’s just too fucking sexy for him not to. Hermann groans a little louder into his mouth. “Hermann, Hermann,” Newt pants, “dude, can I–”

“You can do whatever you bloody want,” Hermann says, his voice high and breathy.

Newt takes that to heart. It’s a bit of an effort to fit his dick in alongside the vibe, but holy shit, is it worth it. Between the vibrations and Hermann clamping down impossibly tight around both Newt and the toy, he’s surprised he doesn’t pass out from just sitting there. Hermann, meanwhile–Hermann’s eyes roll back into his head, he writhes on the bed, and he grips wildly at Newt’s shoulders, and for a second Newt thinks Hermann might pass out too.

“Ah, ah–!”

“How’s’it feel?” Newt manages to croak out.

Hermann kisses him messily.

Once he’s sure he’s not about to blow it then and there, Newt reaches down and nudges the vibe in to the hilt. He knows at once when he hits Hermann’s prostate: Hermann’s whole body seizes, and shakes, and his mouth falls open in a wordless cry against Newt’s. After that, it’s over for both of them.

They lay in a sweaty, sticky heap for a little while, Hermann breathing like he’s just run a marathon, Newt already threatening to doze off like he always does after an awesome round of sex. The vibrator lays innocently between them. Finally Hermann prods at Newt’s shoulder and rouses him from his self-congratulatory afterglow. “You still have two boxes to carry in,” he says.

“Dude,” Newt whines.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #not sfw///#like for real HAHA #Anonymous

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jungkookiebus · 5 years

Text

Sunny Side Up pt. 2 | jjk

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, some fluff Pairing: tattooed!jjk x reader Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: unprotected sex, anal (I know I said vaginal but I changed my mind ya know?), dirty talk, shower sex Summary: This takes place in the same night as Sunny Side Up, so read that first!

The harsh fluorescent lights of the diner seemed to burn into the back of your eyes when you stepped from the darkness outside. Bacon grease, fried eggs, and burnt toast wafted into your nose and you sighed in contentment. The alcohol had been fucked out of your system and that feeling was now replaced with a low growl in your stomach. Beside you stood Jungkook, having just met him over half an hour ago and fucked in that nasty bathroom, and he was just as beautiful in the disgusting yellow lights as he was in the bar.

“Sit anywhere you want,” a tired looking waitress said as she passed by with a tray full of food.

Jungkook gestured out in front of him for you to choose. You selected a booth the farthest away from the bar crowd and you watched Jungkook as he slid in across from you, tucking his hair behind his ear as the rest fell across his right eye, and he grabbed a sticky menu from behind the sugar and overly sweet jellies stacked by the window. You tried to tell your hands to also grab a menu, but your brain was too busy directing your eyes to the veins crawling up his arms and the art that traced around them.

“So…,” he started, not noticing your stare.

You cleared your throat and quickly grabbed a menu and pretended to read.

“Yea?” You were faking interest in the generic breakfast options.

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Glad to say neither have I.”

“Do you regret it?”

Getting to the meat of the question, huh?

“No.” Why lie? That was the best you had been fucked in a while.

You looked up at the same time a wide smile spread across his face and you felt like your heart was going to throw up.

“Whew, okay, good. I was kinda worried you might think I was some creepy guy that picks up women in the club on the regular. I’ll admit I was mildly disgusted to fuck you in that bathroom…I apologize for that but…damn that was good.”

You were blushing heavily. You barely knew this man and here you were discussing the lewd acts you had both performed in the bathroom of a random club.

“Yea…,” you agreed with a sigh, “it was good.”

You both stumbled from the diner about two hours later, having discussed everything from childhood pets to strange exes you’d rather not see again. You found out he worked as an event planner at a local resort (much to your surprise and he laughed as he watched the shock cross your face) and lived uptown with a shiba named Potato.

“He came from the shelter with that name,” he laughed.

“So, event planner. What do you do exactly?”

“Well,” he started as you both walked aimlessly through the streets, “I plan events, ha. I hate to say it, but I tend to plan a lot of events led by women. Not saying I don’t like women obviously,” he said holding out both hands as you looked at him in shock. “I’m not an asshole.” He laughed a little more uncomfortably. “A lot of them…like me, so my boss likes that I bring the resort a lot of business.”

“Oh, it’s the good looks,” you chided jokingly.

He blushed feverishly as you passed under the city lights.

“You have no idea how many brides and bridesmaids have tried to seduce me and drag me into a closet.”

“You’re bragging.”

“I’m not! I’m sorry. I guess I’m trying to over prove to you that I’m not some fuckboy.”

You laughed as he continued to become more flustered. “I believe you! It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” He looked more relieved as you laughed. “I’m just a lowly librarian without large amounts of men throwing themselves at my feet while I scan in their books.”

“you’rebeautifulthough,” you heard him mutter under his breath.

“What?”

“Wanna go back to my place?”

You looked down at your now dying phone at a mere 3% and the time. 3:44 am.

“If it’s too late I understand. At least let me get you home safely.”

“No,” you interrupted, “I would…like that.”

“Great, I’m just around the corner.”

“Did you plan this?” you asked as he led you straight and around the next corner to an opulent apartment high rise.

He turned and winked at you and you felt your uterus fall out of your butt in that moment.

You entered his apartment in a flurry of hands, lips, and tongues. You hadn’t even made it halfway up in the elevator before he was on you again, pinning you to the wall. He kicked the door shut with his foot as you heard little toenails clacking along the floor.

“Not now, Potato,” he muttered against your lips. He grabbed you by the hips, spun you around, and pushed you up against the wall so hard a few dumbbells on a rack rattled together. His hand went between your legs and up against your ruined underwear. The time in the club seemed so long ago and not the same night.

“Jungkook, we’re both probably pretty gross,” you breathed out against the wall. Your cheek was pressed up against it as he used his entire body weight to keep you pinned there. He slowed all his movements to brush his lips along the skin behind your ear. Goosebumps travelled across your skin like wildfire.

“That’s okay,” he whispered, “I can just fuck you in the shower.”

He detached himself from you and tugged at your skirt and then grabbed your hand as he led you down the hallway. The bathroom was as large as a Victoria’s Secret dressing room complete with a two person shower and separate bathtub. He drug you into the shower both fully clothed as he turned the water on and as it warmed he pulled you under with him. The water soaked through his white shirt and you saw as the art across his skin was revealed piece by piece as the warm water cascaded down his body. You reached forward, suddenly wanting to see him fully in front of you. Your hands shook as you unbuttoned his shirt. His mouth fell open as he watched you nervously fiddle with them until you had them all undone and had the shirt on the shower floor. His tattoos disappeared into his pants and you were suddenly desperate to see more. Once his jeans were gone, you were shocked to see the art extended down past his hips and onto his thighs and calves; all the way down to his toes.

“Wow…,” you whispered.

“Eyes up here. I have face,” he laughed.

He slowly undid the zipper to your skirt and let it fall past your hips. The water quickly soaked through your panties, not that your body didn’t already have a head start on that. He made quick work of your shirt and bra, revealing parts of you that he had yet to see.

“You’re even more beautiful in the light,” he said almost reverently. Then like a switch, he flipped tones. “Now,” he said hooking his thumb in waistband of your panties, “take these off and back up on this dick.”

You gasped as his lips met yours quickly. The water ran down your face, catching in your lashes, and washed over your connected lips. Water slid past your lips and into your breathless mouth, warming your tongue even more when he disconnected and leaned against the wall behind him. He pushed both hands through his wet hair revealing more of his chiseled jawline and you almost came on the spot. He held his finger out and down, twirling it as if to tell you to turn around. As you turned, you disposed of your panties and his fingers dug into your hips almost immediately. You felt his cock nudging against your entrance when you got a thought. Could you possibly ask him? Would he be disgusted? He might tell you to get the fuck out of his apartment and never look back. You had only just met him, but you knew you didn’t want to let him go.

Fuck it.

“Uh…Jungkook?” you asked tentatively.

“Yea?” he seemed to be coming out of a trance, but his voice was laced with concern. The hot water burned the skin of your back, giving you something else to focus on as your mind literally raced to every possible answer to your question.

“Can you…fuck my…ass instead?”

“God dammit.” What you couldn’t see was Jungkook shoving two of his fingers into his own mouth, but moments later you felt his warm hand on your back as he pushed you further down and his fingers against your asshole. Your body immediately relaxed in relief and he took the opportunity to push both fingers inside. Gasping, you grabbed for the bar in his shower, knocking various bottles onto the floor.

“Fuck you’re warm,” he gulped.

Your stomach tensed and then relaxed as his reach went further and further, finding that erogenous zone and immediately sending you into a drooling mess as your grip on the bar tightened. Your thighs shook and your toes ached as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. The sound of water hitting skin and tile echoed loudly throughout the bathroom, but through it all you heard Jungkook’s heavy breathing behind you as he got himself worked up over you.

“Fuck me,” you begged.

His fingers were gone instantly, and you felt the head of his cock against you. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed inside. The stretch was a mixture of burning and intense pleasure. His fingers dug in harder and harder the further he went, and you could feel him practically vibrating as he held off from pounding into you as fast as possible. What felt like several minutes later, he was fully seated, and you had never felt so complete in your life. He had both hands on your ass cheeks, spreading them, and looking at your ass swallowing him.

“Your ass is so tight, baby.”

He pulled out just the tiniest bit and pushed back in; the sensation causing you to moan out. Then he did it again. And again. He worked you open slowly until you were comfortable, and he sped up his rhythm. His left hand came to your shoulder as he used your body to pull you back on his dick. Your eyes were rolling back into your head as his cock hit deeper and deeper inside of you, stimulating that spot that no one seemed to be able to hit just right…until now.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted at each thrust.

Jungkook’s breathing was heavy, almost labored behind you. His balls slapped against your cunt and you felt so euphoric you could cry. The nail in the coffin was when he braced himself further against the wall, left hand still firmly gripping your shoulder as he reached around and placed three fingers on your clit and started to rub back and forth faster than you could process. His breathing stuttered as you clenched harder around his cock.

“Scream for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Your moans seemed louder in the bathroom as they bounced off the walls. Drool slipped from your mouth as he continued to fuck your brains out. You were breathing out incoherent variants of his name as his skin slapped against yours, his balls hitting you like a well placed slap with his hand. Your mind buzzed. Pleasure was the only thing you could register, and you were plunging further into ecstasy. Your body tensed like a bow string, calves aching as you stood further on your toes, and thighs shaking with the effort to keep you aloft. You screamed when your orgasm hit. Body lurching forward you kept your grip tight on the bar, catching yourself with your foot as he continued to pound into you.

He was spreading your ass cheeks once more as he fucked you.

“Can I…fuck…can I come inside of you?”

All you could give him was a strangled ‘yes’ and you felt the warmth of his cum filling you. He kept his pace, watching as his cum came out around his dick and dripped to the shower floor.

“So hot,” he said as his thrust more to watch his cum push out of you. He stopped with a growl, both hands coming down on your ass cheeks as he pulled out. “Look at that.” He was talking more to himself as he spread them again, looking at your stretched asshole and his cum leaking out.

Exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. It had been almost a full 24 hours since you last got sleep and having come twice so intensely had your body going into immediate shut down.

“Can I stay here?” you asked wearily.

“Of course,” he said while grabbing a washcloth. He quickly wiped any remains of cum from you before shutting off the water. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped you up, and lifted you as easily as a child.

His bed looked like it belonged in a hotel and felt that way even more as he stood you beside it, pulled back the sheets, and had you lay down amongst the downy duvet and pillows.

“I just gotta go walk and feed Potato and I’ll be back,” he said with a quick kiss to your temple.

He hadn’t even made it out the bedroom when your eyes closed, and sleep hit you instantly.

It was some time during mid-morning when you stirred briefly from sleep, momentarily confused as to where you were when you felt the warm body behind you, arm draped over your waist, and soft snores in your ear. You looked down to see the familiar tattoos across his smooth skin and sighed, relieved, that you hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. It wasn’t long before you were falling asleep again, wondering what the future held with him.

#ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #ksmutclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #reader insert #nonidol!au #tattooed!jungkook #strangers to lovers #bts au #sunny side up #part two

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every1studio · 5 years

Text

“secret” [ateez: san + wooyoung]

(do not read if you are UNCOMFORTABLE with this type of content)

genre: SMUT + female reader

ficstyle: bulletpoints + [PART 1] [PART 2] [SPECIAL]

prompt: you had a little secret and when San and Wooyoung found out, they used it against you

note: THIS IS ALL A WORK OF FICTION AND ISN’T MEANT TO BE PORTRAYED IN ANY OTHER WAY

it was one of your duties as the class leader to make sure that the class was cleaned and ready for class the next day

you usually did this by yourself and by the time you were done, no one was in the building

well, there wasn’t suppose to be anyone in the building

when you heard the sound of footsteps getting closer and closer, fear caused you to panicked and you hid in the cleaning supplies closet

you held your breath to keep quiet, hoping that the sound of the footsteps would go away

you were able to see who came into the room through the slits of the closet

an upperclassman girl shamelessly spreads herself on a desk for the two boys that stood in front of her

“San~ Wooyoung~ please hurry I can’t wait any longer~” she moans so loud, you could hear her voice carry into the hallways

San smirks at Wooyoung before loosening his uniform tie, “just look at her, she’s our dear upperclassman and she just can’t help but want us to rough her up..”

Wooyoung grabs her by her hair, “she was so bratty to us earlier, I don’t think she deserves it...”

you couldn’t believe your eyes

you couldn’t believe that they were doing it in school, in school uniform, in YOUR CLASSROOM

but you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth between your legs

you tried to convince yourself that this was wrong but the body doesn’t lie

you were being turned on by watching these two guys, who were in the same year as you, fuck the brains out of this girl

just listening to the way San was pistoling the girl made your fingers travel into your panties to satisfy your clit

the way Wooyoung grabbed her throat as he took his time to fit himself all the way into her throat made you clamp your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning

waves of pleasure was building and building and thankfully the girl was loud enough for you to moan as you rode out your orgasm

to your surprise, that was probably the best orgasm you had

ever

the closet was stuffy; you were still trying to be quiet as you tried to catch your breath

you waited for them to leave until you walked out of the closet and tidied yourself before heading home

the whole time you were just thinking how turned on you were; you couldn’t stop thinking about how rough San was and how sadistic Wooyoung was

the next day at school, you were so busy, you couldn’t even think of the indecencies of yesterday until you bumped into those two in the library

like literally bumped into them

you were suppose to be delivering books back to the library, not running into the horny fuckboy duo with the possibly of getting fucked in the library

“whoa there, Ms. Class Rep from Class A...” San cocks his eyebrow as he squats down to help you, “nice panties..”

you frantically fixed your skirt; you couldn’t make eye contact with them

Wooyoung takes the books from your hands as he checks you out, “we’ll help you out.. in one way or another, Ms. Class Rep..”

“I’m not even your class rep...” you muttered trying to keep the conversation PG13 by ignoring their flirtatious advances

“the things we’d do to you if you were..” San whispers, leaning into your ear before pulling back before taking half of the amount of books Wooyoung was carrying

you opened your mouth to say something but Wooyoung walks up to the librarian and sweetly smiles at her, “hello Mrs. Hondo, Y/N is here to drop off some books~”

the old lady smiles at Wooyoung and San, “you boys are so sweet, helping a girl carry heavy books..”

they smiled at her as they cornered you into a quiet corner of the library, in between the bookshelves of nothing but history books

“you don’t think we heard you yesterday?” Wooyoung smirks against your neck

you couldn’t help but whimper, Wooyoung was pushing you as he nip at the sensitive area on your neck, “I-I don’t know w-what you’re talking about-”

you kept on backing up until your back met San’s chest

“you thought that you were quiet enough so that we couldn’t hear you but sweetheart, we’re like dogs.. we hear everything..” he moves your hair so that Wooyoung can have more access to pepper you with more kisses

“and smell everything.. you don’t think that we wouldn’t be able to smell how aromatic you were? bet that you’re just as sweet as you smell..”

you could felt both of their hands moving in action

Wooyoung caressed your neck and breasts

as San pulled you into closer to him so you could feel his bulge grinding against your ass, rubbing along your pelvis

San moved your skirt out of the way to pull your panties down your legs

Wooyoung pulled away so that San could take it off of you

“w-wait..” you whispered as you panicked

Wooyoung latched onto your neck again and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his hair

San chuckles as he returns to his previous grinding, “this little kitten says wait but she really doesn’t want us to stop.. does she?”

they were having fun with you, teasing you; you didn’t know if you should give into them or to be a good student

before you could make a judgment the school bell rung; indicating that break was over

they pulled themselves away from you, adjusting your hair and uniform

“I think that was enough for now..” Wooyoung was satisfied with his work of art, “make sure you keep your hair down unless you want to show everyone my masterpiece”

you clasp both sides of your neck in disbelief, “are you seri-”

“if you want more, you know where to find us after school~” San winks as he shoves your panties into his pockets

they just left you standing there, mouth agape, in between the bookshelves; hot and bothered

you looked up at the clock and there were 5 more hours of school

you tried to not be concerned with the cold, drift that hit your entrance with every step

you just hoped that you could hold out until then

meanwhile San and Wooyoung were talking among themselves, to distract themselves from their raging cocks, “I like Y/N.. I think she’ll be more than enough for us... I’m getting bored with all those other girls..”

San nods in agreement with Wooyoung, “same...but like, do you think we’ll ever find someone for ourselves? like someone for you and someone for me?”

“sure thing.. but look at Y/N, she’s a diamond, man... I would take her for myself but I see the way you look at her too..”

San pats Wooyoung on the back, “we’ll just do what we do best and have her decide for herself..”

To be continued.

[ masterlist + guidelines ]

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez suggestive #ateez san #ateez choi san #ateez jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #san smut #wooyoung smut

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thestraggletag · 4 years

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Creature Comforts, a Dragon!Rumbelle Sequel

Summary: The morning after the storm. Sequel to Creature Instincts.

Rating: PG-13

He woke up some time during the night, disoriented from having fallen asleep somewhere other than his bed. He noticed idly that there was light coming from the kitchen, which meant the power was back. But the heating would take time warming up the house, big and old as it was, so he tried to disentangle himself from Belle to tend to the fire.

“Let me, I’m closer.”

Belle rose, unselfconscious of her nudity, and pecked him on the cheek before reaching out to the neat stack of firewood and tossing a couple of logs into the dying embers of the fire. He watched in fascination as she reared back, taking a deep breath before blowing a steady blue plume of fire, setting the wood aflame. He noticed her eyes shone greater as she breathed fire. He had noticed his do the same. He marvelled at how small she was, how dainty and fragile-looking, and yet how it was all a ruse, well-crafted lie. She was a creature of power, with more strength and stamina that a human could ever hope to have.

‘A perfect match for us.’ The creature inside him was curled up, still seemingly satisfied by their recent rough coupling. It had never felt so before after sex, quite the contrary. It disliked being constrained and limited, being told to hold back, to be softer, or gentler or altogether less. He hadn’t had to hold back with Belle, with her thick skin and brute force. His muscles ached in a way they never had before. She had given him as good as she got and it felt wonderful, to be so tired, so spent.

“You look at me like I’m unreal, it’s very flattering, but strange. Haven’t you met any of our kind before?”

Belle shifted till she was draped over him, arms folded on his chest and chin propped up over them, peering at him curiously with sleepy eyes. She felt soft and loose above him, not an ounce of tension in her body.

‘We tucked her out. How lovely.’ The creature purred, pressing against the edges of his consciousness. ‘Let’s do it again.’

It was possibly giddy, like a child, and it made him giddy too. He shook his head, telling her his only encounters with those of his kind were from far away and long ago, people in passing that had smelt a bit like him from a distance.

“I’ve heard tales, and tracked down stories. I have come across antiques that were obviously once part of another dragon’s hoard, by the smell and feel of them. But that’s about as close as I’ve gotten.” He stroked her back, loving the sleek texture of her scales, and how warm she was. A furnace, just like him. “What about you?”

“Mom died when I was little, but her family kept in touch, helped me growing up. Introduced me to a small community of dragons in Australia. Mostly male dragons, I think everyone was hoping for a bit of matchmaking since females are rare, or so I’m told. Didn’t quite work out. I wanted… love. Settling for ‘someone of my own species’ felt like short-changing myself. Gave in to my urge to see the world partly to get away from a persistent jerk who didn’t know the meaning of the word no.” She wrinkled her nose, which he found adorable. Vaguely he tried to make himself adopt a less dopey expression, but his face would not budge.

Suddenly she frowned, as if a new, puzzling thought had crossed her mind.

“Did you even know I was like you?”

He shook his head, seeing no point in lying, as much as it embarrassed him that he had not put the clues together before. Her eyes softened even more, a dreamy expression in them.

“I thought for sure you knew. That it was why you first paid attention to me, why you enjoyed sparring with me. It’s a very traditional courting practice amongst our kind, and it was the first time I found myself wanting to participate. I found our fights… stimulating.” The heated look in her eyes, coupled with her words, sent a jolt of sudden, scorching pleasure down his spine.

“Oh, it is safe to say I enjoyed them as well. I just didn’t know how much. My son and my daughter-in-law, I’m afraid to say, cottoned on to my interest in you before I did. The creature in me always knew, though, tried to tell me. I wasn’t listening. We… we don’t always get along.”

It was an understatement. Growing up inhuman had been difficult. He had been alone in a world full of people. He had had to figure everything out on his own, about what he was, and what it meant. How to survive. How to live around people without hurting them, and without them hurting him in return. He had never quite figured that part out, truthfully. It had been hard, and painful, and… lonely. So, so lonely.

“I’ve seen it looking at me.” Belle smiled, reaching out to pet his hair. “I would be fighting with you over extra funds to expand the selection of Latin American authors at the library and it would flash across your eyes. It always thrilled me.”

The creature preened, clearly not immune to flattery. It was strange but pleasant to feel in sync with it, it happened so rarely. Her look darkened, her own pupils becoming slits as her eyes shone unnaturally blue. He had but a moment to brace himself before she pounced on him, her inhuman strength still taking him by surprise in spite of it all, thrilling him as if it was a new discovery. They were rougher with each other, more comfortable now that they knew without a shadow of a doubt that they could not hurt each other easily. It was the sort of uninhibited, passionate coupling he had always restrained himself from and it felt wonderful. She had certainly ruined him for other women. And he hoped that her loud moans and her many orgasms meant he had had a similar impact on her.

When they woke up again it was close to eleven o’clock, a shockingly late hour to be waking up. Reluctantly they left the comfort of their improvised nest and donned their clothes, if only to keep themselves in check long enough to eat something. It was Saturday, as rent-day always fell on a Friday, and though he usually opened his shop for a half workday he always took off Saturdays after rent-day, usually to recover enough to don his human facade again. It was a day he usually enjoyed, with a hearty breakfast and, if the weather permitted, some time outside lazing in the sun, or if not taking care of his treasures, and browsing antique websites to see what caught his fancy.

It was strange not to feel a frisson of excitement at the prospect of growing his hoard, but he reasoned that greater biological impulses were at play. Instincts he had never had a chance to explore.

‘And given how she’s looking at us we’re not the only ones with a one-track mind.’

The creature thrilled happily, its unbridled joy mixing with his own as they both stared at Belle, who was idly whisking a few egg-whites into a merengue and shooting covert looks their way. In the light of the morning her silver skin took a soft pink undertone, barely perceptible. He was fascinated by it, by the sleek feel of her scales and their warmth. She was so tiny, and so kind, and so gentle. He had seen her interact with children, soothe irritated elderly library patrons who could not find the book they were looking for, and evade the advances of slimy men like Keith Nott a couple of times at Granny’s. And yet there was this whole other part of her, a part she didn’t show others, could never show. He alone would know her, all of her, and the possessiveness he felt at the prospect was heady.

‘Ours. Mate.’

The creature rumbled, clearly pleased, and nudged Rowan forward, telling him that surely food could wait for later. He was about to reach out and snag the librarian about the waist, her smell letting him know she would not shoo him away, when he caught the sound of his Facetime ringer. Bae sometimes called on Saturday mornings to check on him, if rent-day had seemed like it had worn him out a bit much, and there was a chance he might have heard about the blackout from Emma’s foster sister, who lived in Storybrooke. He whispered against her lips that he would be quick and moved the tablet to face away from where Belle was, swiping to take the call with the practiced ease of someone used to manipulating touch technology with claws.

“Hey, Bae. How’s everyone?”

“Hi, pops! Emma is still asleep, she came home only a few hours ago. Little Henry is watching The Dragon Prince on her tablet. Keeps him quiet.”

It seemed to amuse Bae a little bit too much that Henry’s favourite TV shows usually were about dragons, as before he had been obsessed with Jake Long and Dragon Booster before that. Rowan had learned to pretend he didn’t notice, though he had to admit that it did please him a bit. He was hoping to let Emma in on his secret so it would be easier to tell Henry, when the time came.

“I heard about the blackout from Emma, and wanted to check in. The storm yesterday was pretty bad, and that old Queen Anne gets cold really fast without electricity.”

He couldn’t help but be warmed by Bae’s worry, even and he cursed his timing. He assured him that he was alright, having spent the night by the fire in the living-room, and that the power was back on and the house was properly heated once more.

“I’m glad, pop. Hope your favourite librarian is okay too. Perhaps you could go over to her house with a bottle of wine and check up on her.”

He waggled his eyebrows, which Rowan was glad Belle could not see. She could, however, hear everything, made all the more evident by the amused smile on her face, and her raised eyebrows. Fucking Baden.

“Let’s not start this again, I-”

“No, pops, come on. You’re gaga over that woman. You talk about her so much I sometimes feel like I know her more than I know my own wife. Emma agrees. Hell, even little Henry could name at least three of her favourite outfits. Including her heels, which I gotta tell you gives me a glimpse into you that I would rather not have.”

He was too busy turning an almost orangey shade of gold out of embarrassment to register at first that Belle had broken into peals of laughter, which she tried in vain to suppress. Bae, however, heard right away, his eyes turning round and panicky on the screen.

“Oh my God, pops, is someone there?! Is Belle there?! Do you know that you’re-I mean, that you look-”

Bae had gone through a terrified phase in adolescence after he had become acutely aware of the danger his father faced if his nature was exposed. It had broken his heart to see it, but he had thankfully grown out of it once it had become clear that it was unlikely to happen. Clearly, though, he wasn’t as unbothered by the notion as he seemed. He was trying to figure out how to reassure him when Belle took a few steps towards him, pausing to give him a significant look. At his surprised nod she crossed the remaining distance until she was snuggling against his side, smiling shyly and looking distinctly non-human.

“Hi, I’m Belle. Rowan has told me so much about you. Can I call you Bae?”

From inside the tablet his son let out a surprised “eep” that his sensitive ears objected to loudly. He looked at Belle, clearly taking in her silver skin and glowing eyes, and then at his papa, going back and forth with an air of shock and surprise that was almost insulting. Then, slowly, a lopsided smile formed across his unshaven face.

“Pop, you lucky dog!” He started slow-clapping, which made him wish the earth would open up and swallow him whole. “I mean, what are to odds! And the implications. I wanna know everything. Well, not everything. Definitely not everything. Like, please, no. But still, I have questions. So many questions.”

Rowan eyed the end call button, trying to imagine just how mad Bae would be if he pressed it.

“Buuuuuut I can see I interrupted something so I’m just gonna get Henry dressed and go with him to the park. You know, give you two crazy kids some time.” Okay, perhaps Bae was not the worst son ever. “But I will be expecting a call later. And for you to send Emma a message confirming the relationship so she’s forced to fork over the fifty bucks she lost. Don’t forget about that, pops, love you, talk to you soon!”

He was gone a second later, leaving him feeling Belle trembling with laughter against him. He marvelled at how at ease she felt, even though he knew exposing one’s true nature to someone was a huge thing. A sign of trust, of intimacy, of-

Commitment.

‘Yes. Ours. Always.’

The creature said it matter of factly, as if he was stating the obvious to a particularly thick-headed individual. He shushed it, though half-heartedly, and pressed a kiss against Belle’s hair, whispering a quick “thank you” before going over to where his French press was, determined to make a mockery out of Granny’s lattes. The sooner Belle saw the benefits of breakfasting at his house the better.

#rumbelle fic #Creature Comforts #rumbelle #Thestraggletag fanfiction

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beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 17

Chapters: 17/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

The gallery hums with gentle energy, full of people drinking, chatting, considering the art on the walls. It's a strange little bubble, practically outside the real world.

Martin is standing alone for a rare moment when a voice comes out of the crowd.

"Can it be? Martin Blackwood, in the flesh."

Martin's blood runs icy at the long-buried voice, rising from his past like some kind of bad joke. Of all the times, in all the places, how could this be happening now?

He turns to find his worst nightmare, Peter Lukas, standing right there in the flesh.

"Peter?" He asks stupidly, eyes wide and heart pounding.

"My goodness, it is you. What an incredible surprise." Peter grins, oozing smultz and satisfaction. He looks Martin up and down like a prize cut of steak. "And here I was, thinking the art would be the best thing on display tonight."

"I-" Martin begins, in the hopes he can tell Peter to take a hike and disappear into the crowd. He wonders how angry Gerry would be if he simply walked straight out the door and called to explain from the safety of a taxi.

"It has been so many years. What is it? Six, seven?" Peter's voice booms, his barrel chest amplifying it across the gallery.

"Seven," Martin replies, far more quietly. He is terrified that Jon and Gerry will reappear at exactly the wrong moment, overhear precisely the wrong thing.

"Goodness! So long, and you're all grown up, aren't you? Like a good wine, only improved with a few years on you."

"Maybe that's because I was practically a child when you seduced me." Martin still whispers, but many years of anger and loathing have begun to bubble up inside of him.

"Now Martin, there's no reason to be like that. We were so good together. We could be, again." Peter steps towards Martin, hand outstretched to touch his arm.

"Mr Lukas," Gerry says, voice smooth and dangerous, inserting himself firmly at Martin's side. That part of him that fosters a keen awareness of his lovers blaring with alarm. "What brings you out this evening?"

"Oh Gerard, a pleasure to see you, as always." Pater's voice remains jovial, but his eyes crease at the interruption. "Martin and I were just having a little chat."

"No, we weren't," Martin says, his hand shaking where Gerry has interlaced their fingers.

"No?" Gerry asks, easy danger in his voice.

"No," Martin confirms.

"Mr Lukas, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I don't believe my partner appreciates seeing you here."

"Do you know how much money I sink into this artist? You can't ask me to leave." Peter's voice is still lilting and calm, but vehemence fills the words gradually.

"I don't give a flying fuck. Take a long walk off a short dock." Gerry advises him, best smile in place, voice verging on cheerful.

"Did your," Peter pauses to add disgust to his tone, " partner ever tell you that he used to be with me? That I used to pay him, to be with me?"

Martin goes absolutely pale.

"It is a shame when you have to pay for company, isn't it?" Gerry counters, not missing a beat, expression sunny and voice falsely sympathetic. "However, I'm afraid Mr Blackwood is rather occupied these days, with two boyfriends and a booming business. I believe his calendar is quite full."

"Whores never change. You think he's yours, but-"

All of a sudden, Jon appears from behind them and punches Peter with his full weight. Gerry, who has gotten into plenty of scraps with drunk idiots who won't keep their hands to themselves, is tempted to join in but thinks better of it. He pulls Jon back as Peter hits the floor heavily, and the room full of fancy art snobs goes very, very silent.

"Oh Christ," Martin mutters, voice as washed out as his complexion.

"What a to-do." Elias Bouchard arrives on the scene, suit impeccable, black shoes polished to a high shine. He stands with hands in pockets, gazing down at Peter with a look of mild interest. "You know Jonathan, I don't normally appreciate my employees striking my husband in public. However, I'll consider forgiving you, this time, on account of your surprisingly excellent right hook."

"Your what?" Jon demands furiously, going pale enough that Gerry is concerned he might pass out.

"My husband, Jonathan, do keep up," Elias responds, airily.

Martin makes a distressed little noise that makes the hairs on Gerry's arms stand on end.

Gertrude finally arrives, heels clicking intimidatingly. "Problem, gentlemen?" She queries, looking down at Peter, groaning on the ground.

"Ah," Gerry stutters, "I think we had better go?"

"I imagine that might be for the best. Do take both of your lovers with you." Gertrude says, with a bit of a bite. "And Gerard?"

"Yeah?" Gerry asks distractedly, trying to herd his errant partners among the gathering crowd.

"You are going to owe me for this one," Gertrude tells him, tone unbelievably prim, and verging into some sort of perverse satisfaction.

"Absolutely." If Gertrude can fix this one, Gerry will happily owe her anything.

Martin sits in a total haze on the way home, static filling his ears and blanketing him away from the world.

He's faintly aware of Jon holding his hand and his forehead leaned against the cool taxi window, but mostly he just stares blankly and doesn't even bother trying to draw himself away from his shocked stupor.

He gets out of the cab when it stops and wanders vaguely up the stairs and into the flat. Jon and Gerry follow him, concerned, but quiet for the time being.

He finds himself standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the loft, eyes intent on the bottom step, unsure if he knows how to climb them any longer.

"Martin? Martin!" A panicked voice eventually breaks through the haze, a hand desperately gripping his elbow.

"Jon?" Martin looks down at the hand, nails painted a lovely shade of green, then up at the face it belongs to. It's creased in concern.

"Are you alright?" Gerry's voice asks from close by.

"No. I don't think I am." His voice is foggy and he feels very far away still.

"Martin, I-" Jon starts, sounding shaky.

"He was telling the truth, you know." Martin tells them, rather abruptly, "Nothing he said was a lie."

"Martin, you are not a whore. Whatever you might have done for work, whatever choices you might have made in the past, those things don't mean anything to us." Gerry states firmly.

"We love the person you are now, and whatever baggage comes with you, we're fine with that." Jon continues, running his hands up and down Martin's arm.

"This?" Martin asks, suddenly aggressive. "You two are telling me that you're okay with me getting paid for, for-"

"For sex, Martin? Yes, we are fine with it." Jon responds unequivocally.

"There's nothing shameful about sex work," Gerry adds, voice equally firm. "And besides, you were young and Peter Lucas is a fucking cunt. I imagine desperate times called for opportunistic creeps to try to take advantage."

Martin shakes his head, eyes panicked. "I can't do this."

He turns and runs up the loft stairs.

Jon and Gerry watch him go, then exchange a concerned look.

"Let's give him some space, love," Gerry mutters, taking Jon's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Maybe you should go in with him."

"Don't even start that bullshit again, Jonathan. I thought we were past this?"

"I am! I just thought-" Jon's cuts off abruptly, chastised.

Martin, sitting on the floor of the shower, can hear every word. He can imagine them standing on the other side of the bathroom door, Jon twisting his hands together and Gerry's arms crossed protectively.

He feels the pit of his depression open up beneath him and he desperately clings to the edge of his sanity, trying not to fall in.

Martin is always afraid that he'll go into a depressive episode- and never come out the other side again. He presses his eyes closed, fighting against the sob desperately trying to choke him.

He honestly can't believe that he let this happen. Why didn't he tell them before? How could he have let himself move in with them, dedicated himself to them and never tell them he was a prostitute?

Martin isn't ashamed of what he had done to survive, but he knows getting paid for sex can be a deal-breaker for a lot of people. He feels sick that Jon or Gerry might feel trapped with him now. All because he couldn't open his stupid mouth and be honest with them.

Despite his best efforts, the tears escape, and his partners stand on the other side of the door, listening to his heart break.

Martin comes downstairs to find his lovers in the kitchen. Jon is cooking something fragrant and he has Gerry chopping vegetables. They're both still wearing their suits, and Martin feels absurdly underdressed in his sweatpants and favourite pink cardigan. It clashes with his hair, these days, but he doesn't care.

Gerry sees him first, pausing a moment to assess him. Martin is pleased to see the typical glint of focus and desire in his eyes. It has been such a bedrock in their relationship, and he had been dreading finding gone.

"Gerry, if-" Martin starts right away.

"Careful, love. If the words 'I'll understand if you don't want me to move in any more' come out of your mouth, I'm going to go back to the gallery and finish what Jon started. So if you don't want me to go to jail for murder, you had better reconsider." Gerry sounds downright pleasant as he says the words, leaning forward on the counter to loom threateningly.

Martin closes his mouth, Gerry having predicted his exact words.

"We understand if you're not ready to talk about any of that, Martin," Jon tells him with a reassuring smile. "Later is soon enough. We love you, and that's all that matters."

"Even with this?" Martin whispers, twisting his fingers together anxiously.

"Even with this," Gerry assures him. "Nothing and no one can change the way we feel about you. It's always going to be you for us."

Finally seeing that Martin won't approach them, Jon turns off the stove and comes over to take Martin's frigid hands in his warm calloused ones. He savours the touch, marvelling as always that someone with so many edges can be so soft when he needs it.

"Martin Blackwood, you are the love of our lives. Whatever came before us and whatever might come now that we're together, we love you, always and in all ways." Jon pronounces, the finality of a million acts of affection behind his words. "Please stay with us?"

Martin smiles shakily at the reminder of the resolution of Jon and Gerry's first major fight, at the words that had become akin to 'I can't be without you, and I won't let this take you away'.

He feels known and loved and adored, even as he feels violated and striped raw at the exposure of his past, his secret. He feels at home, in a flat full of boxes that always smells of oil paints and old books, with two lovers who couldn't be more different but had protected him when he didn't know how to protect himself.

Gerry comes over and takes one of his hands from Jon, holding it with both his own, placing a kiss on his palm. "Please stay with us?" He repeats the words softly, teal eyes bright with emotion. "I need you."

"I need you too," Martin tells them earnestly, allowing them to wrap him up in their arms. "Please keep me."

"Always," comes the reply, a certainty even more profound than fear.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3 #repost cause I'm an idiot

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danyka-fendyr · 4 years

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Absence of Good - 10

Chapter 10: 126 Kisses

Alright everybody I’m back! Finals are over and I’m officially free to write as much as I want until I can get a job. Hopefully that will be soon, but it’s not looking great. This chapter things sort of slow down and our heroes get the chance to relax for a minute. I figured they deserved it after their last case. Also this is just really fun for me.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @alwaysadreamingoptimist

AoG Taglist: @pancakefancake @prettyboyspenerrr @youreasnack @alioop3818 @newtslatte @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @andiebeaword @stalker83005 @lotties-journey-abroad

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: None! This is all fluff. If you aren’t scared of a little making out, you’re safe here.

“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.” ― Jane Austen

Trying to decide what your favorite thing about Spencer was was like trying to decide what flavor to pick at a Baskin-Robbins in hell, the options stretching to infinity. His lips, his brain, his hair, his really terrible but also really cute jokes, his hands, his magic tricks. There were a lot of options. There were so many options.

Right now though, the lips were taking it in a landslide.

“Do you really think,” you gasped, “that now is a good time for this?”

Spencer didn’t look up from where he was diligently making his way down your neck, fingers tracing little circles into the space of skin between your blouse and your slacks. You were in a supply closet, which felt very, extremely, incredibly high school, although admittedly you had never actually done anything that edgy in high school. That being said, if you were going to act like high schoolers you thought making out in a library was a much sexier choice and should probably involve fewer mops.

“Can’t wait,” he mumbled, pulling you just that little bit closer to him.

“Can’t wait 30 minutes till we’re off the clock?”

You laughed at him, but he swallowed it with a kiss, making you far too breathless to laugh anymore.

“This is our first full day of work back since the case where I didn’t see you for a full week. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I forget nothing, and I remember every. Agonizing. Moment.” He punctuated the words with kisses.

“I remember,” you breathed out, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I also remember that despite that, we like our jobs. We would like to keep our jobs. Which is why this is a bad idea.”

You stepped away, disentangling yourself with more restraint than you had probably ever exercised before. 30 minutes. 30 more minutes of paperwork. 30 more minutes of explaining to some desk jockey how to put a man in handcuffs. Then you were free.

You gave him one last kiss, just as a reward for the fact that you were miraculously managing to walk away from this.

“Meet me at the library after work.”

You reasoned you deserved to indulge your childish fantasies if you were going to be a responsible adult right now.

Before he could kiss you again and make you rethink your decision, you slipped out of the supply closet, straightening your shirt as you went. You stopped to check your appearance in the bathroom mirror, touched up your lipstick a little, then went back to work hoping nobody would notice your pupils were still dilated. The only person truly likely to notice that, however, was Spencer, and you didn’t have to worry about him. All you had to worry about were these forms.

The next half hour of your life was grueling. You had been literally tortured before and somehow, this seemed worse than that. You would have said it was impossible for anything to be worse than that, but now you knew better. It was simply improbable.

Finally, it ended. You let Spencer leave first, because clearly you were the one showing restraint today. He booked it out of the building, but you, on the other hand, took your time packing up. Stopped to chat with Emily, figuring she would be a safe bet considering she was either oblivious to your relationship or just so good at hiding her emotions she would never give away knowledge of it. You valued that in her as a friend. Her ability to not call you on your blatant lies when she knew the truth was better kept a secret.

You kept the conversation brief and lighthearted, and soon you were out the door too. You were aware Spencer knew your favorite library because he had confessed to you that the moment he knew he was in love with you was when you told him you even had a favorite library and that it was your happy place. You couldn’t help the fact that not only was it superior to all other libraries, but it was also superior to all other locations in general.

You wasted no time getting inside once you were there, scanning the shelves for him, and…there he was, freaking out some librarians with the speed at which he was reading. Was that the book you thought it was?

“Is that my favorite book?”

Spencer looked up, face forming a smile before his eyes even registered that it was you who had approached him.

“Yeah. You mentioned you liked it so I thought I should read it.”

“I think you’re concerning the librarians, my love. You’re going to put them out of a job.”

He blushed, and you assumed he was feigning modesty, but he quickly made the real reason for his sudden intense interest in the same page clear.

“My love?” His voice cracked softly. “We use nicknames now?”

Your face turned shades to match his. “Only if you want to.”

Wow, the books were fascinating. In fact, you could stare at them all day. Just look at bindings and never move or speak again ever for the rest of your life.

“Yeah, I do. I think it’s cute. Sweetheart.”

You stared down at your shoes, toes curling inside of them. Something about the way he said it made you go all melty inside. You definitely liked that.

“Okay, well,” you said, clearing your throat. “Considering you’re about 75% of the way through the greatest novel of all time, I have to ask. What do you think?”

“Well, I’ll admit it’s not my usual taste, but the author is certainly talented. I mean, the parallelism between certain characters, the perfect use of narrative tension, it’s all very well done. You have excellent taste.”

“And you’re not just lying because you like making out with me?” You teased.

“Well I do like making out with you.” Spencer grinned slyly. “But no. I never lie about books. Literature is sacred.”

“Agreed.” You nodded.

“That being said, I hardly think this counts as a holy place,” Spencer said, his voice dipping lower so that only you could hear, “so I think we can defile it guilt free.”

You were about to agree when you caught sight of the new arrivals shelf over his shoulder.

“Oh my gosh I’ve been trying to get my hands on that forever but I was too cheap to buy it!”

You shove past him, disregarding any apologies that might have been necessary. Not that he would require them. He had been ignoring you for books for the past week. He totally owed you.

“Can I read it first?” He asked, just as fascinated.

“Absolutely not.”

“But I’ll read it faster!”

“You’re not even done with the book you have now, slowpoke. Catch up with the big kids then you can read.”

You snatched the book of the shelf, holding it close to your chest. Spencer, meanwhile, appeared to have finished the book. You really hated him sometimes.

“Done. Now can I read it first?” He raised an eyebrow at you in challenge.

“Fine. But you owe me 126 kisses.”

“I’ll remember that.”

You snorted, not taking him literally as he took the book out of your hands and you paused to admire the architecture. Part of the reason this library was your favorite was that it was multiple stories. Books upon books not only stacked over shelves but over floors of a building. Multiple stories in multiple stories, if you wanted to be witty about it. The large glass windows in the front allowed plenty of light in, and you liked to bathe in sun pools while curled up with your books. You never liked to just be in and out of a library. One had to take time to bask in a library, to appreciate its unique atmosphere, to perhaps soak up the knowledge of its books through osmosis. Libraries were both underappreciated and important.

“Can you walk and read at the same time?” You asked.

“Of course I can, what kind of question is that?”

“Then follow me. I’m taking you to my favorite reading nook.”

You wound up the stairs, Spencer in tow, hardly glancing up from the book to see where he was going. You wondered if his genius brain came with hyperdeveloped peripheral vision.

The sun dappled blue carpet of the steps lead you to the second floor, coming to a spiraling stop across the room from your favorite spot. You made a bee line for it, sinking down into the plush curve of the couch. It wasn’t particularly busy on this floor of the library at this time of night, since this was where they kept most of the more obscure research literature. This floor was more geared towards the serious scholars, while the first floor was designed for university students and casual readers. You enjoyed all three categories of reading, yet another reason this location was so optimal.

“C’mon.”

You gestured for Spencer to join you, and he easily flopped down next to you, leaning into your side. He looped an arm around you, passing you the book with his free hand.

“Done?” You asked.

“Done,” he confirmed. “It’s kind of dead in here, isn’t it?”

“This is their slow day. We’re almost guaranteed not to be interrupted up here right now. Part of why I like it. I like to read in peace. There’s probably some research papers up here you’d like.”

You idly flipped open the pages of the book, ready to relax and read for an hour or two. Spencer had other ideas though.

“Guaranteed not to be interrupted, huh?” He said, nose slipping into your hair as he whispered the words low in your ear.

“Baby, I’m trying to read,” you whined.

That was the wrong choice of words. His hand slipped from your shoulder to your waist, pivoting you to face him as his fingers dug into the soft flesh that curved over your obliques.

“Have I mentioned that I really love the nicknames?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his mouth was on yours, and you were abruptly incapable of rational thought. No unsubs, no paper filing, and certainly no books. The room could have been on fire and you probably wouldn’t have noticed seeing as it already felt like you were on fire with the warm skim of his hands against your skin.

“Maybe I should have just taken you home,” he said, already a little breathless. “As nice as this couch is, yours is more comfortable, and you look very good in a t-shirt.”

“And jeans?”

A mindless comment, a meaningless clarification as your head spun.

“No. No jeans.”

He went back to your throat, which seemed to be his favorite spot. You inhaled sharply, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Besides, I still owe you 126 kisses.” You felt him smile into your skin saying it.

Oh, he was enjoying himself entirely too much.

Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Yes, please.”

You heard him muttering under his breath as he kissed your neck, and your brows furrowed in confusion. After a moment, you realized. He was counting. You would have laughed if it wasn’t actually a little bit sexy.

Were you actually going to do this? Were you seriously making out with your boyfriend in a library? A public library, no less? The answer was no, and not because you didn’t want to.

A librarian hovered one shelf away, looking like she really didn’t want to have to come interrupt you but would if you continued. You sighed, pulling away from Spencer.

“I was wrong earlier. We are officially being interrupted. Let’s leave before we terrorize the poor librarians any further, shall we?”

You couldn’t hide your slight disappointment. It had been a long day and you deserved 126 kisses from your boyfriend. Alas, it was not to be.

Spencer was undaunted. “Guess this means I get to take you back to your place.”

“Guess it does,” you said, leading the charge back downstairs.

You ran your library card, checking out the book, before breezing out the door. You knew Spencer had walked here just like you knew he typically took the subway to work. Just as well. Meant you wouldn’t have to be separated on the drive back to your house.

“By the way, I’m investing in some t-shirts for you,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of your car.

He followed, sitting passenger side.

“Is there something wrong with my shirts?” Spencer frowned slightly.

“No, of course not. I love the way you dress. However, I want some oversized t-shirts.”

“I’m not following,” he said.

“It’s simple. I buy you t-shirts, let you keep them for like, a month, and then gradually steal them all from you.”

He laughed. “Why not just buy yourself t-shirts that are too big?”

“Because then they won’t smell like you.”

“I would say I’m not sure I fully understand you but actually I’ve been realizing since we got back that I’m sort of obsessed with the smell of your perfume. It would kind of linger in the air after you dropped off my coffees on that last case and that alone could keep me going for hours.”

“Really?” You kept your eyes on the road, diligently avoiding eye contact, suddenly shy.

“Really. You smell so good, all the time. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well I shower on a regular basis, just for a starting point,” you teased.

“Did you know that some experts say you actually shouldn’t shower every day? Apparently occasionally taking a break allows your skin to rebuild the natural oils it needs to be healthy. So while it doesn’t hurt you to shower every day, it can also be beneficial to skip sometimes.”

“I’m making a mental note of that for our next case. ‘Unsub has read same studies Spencer has. Took them too far.’”

You were rewarded with another of his laughs just as you pulled into your driveway. You took a moment to appreciate it, the sound light and happy. It was nice to hear him so relaxed after the case you had just gotten off. You were quickly overcome by the urge to kiss him.

He lead you inside, the two of you practically tripping over each other in your haste. You had never unlocked a door so fast a day before in your life.

You kicked off your shoes in the hallway, and Spencer followed suit, mismatched socks making an endearing appearance.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, heading in the direction of your bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To change into a t-shirt. And no pants.”

Spencer smiled to himself, settling down on your couch, fully prepared to wait as long as it took. He had 114 kisses to bestow upon you in a t-shirt. A t-shirt, and no pants.

“Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.”

― Robert A. Heinlein

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #dr. spencer reid #absence of good #aog #aog-10

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abusybuzzingbee · 4 years

Text

Hook Man | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 7 Rewrite | Dean x Fem!Reader

A/N:::: Thank you all for being so patient while I sorted this chapter out. Enjoy! :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon level violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other TW: mentions of suicide, self-deprecating thoughts

Word Count: 6,030

Summary: In a small town haunted by the spirit of an evil preacher, Sam gets caught up in a crush he feels he should not have. Meanwhile, the reader and Dean continue their bullshit.

Series Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

Click here for the series playlist!

‘Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk

I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk’

“Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees played through your headphones that led from your ears to your back pocket where your iPod was stowed away.

‘Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around

Since I was born’

You had woken up that morning with a strong desire to get your nails done. The polish job you had done on yourself weeks ago looked horrible, and it was time for a change.

‘And now it's alright, it's okay

And you may look the other way’

You had gotten some acrylics put on in a bright shade of red. Your music choice and the way you carried yourself back to the coffee shop you had left the Winchesters at expressed the confidence you were feeling.

‘We can try to understand

The New York Times' effect on man’

Dean refused to let you drive the Impala to the nail salon you went to, but you did not mind walking; it burned calories.

‘Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother

You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive’

You straightened your sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and took another proud look at your nails. Most girls were able to get their nails done whenever the hell they wanted, and would not be as elated as you were once they had gotten them done. However, you did not always have time between jobs to take care of yourself.

‘Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'

And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive’

As you walked up to the café you had last seen the boys at, you spotted the older brother at a table outside of the coffee shop.

‘Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive’

You took your earbuds out and shoved them into your back pocket with your iPod.

“Nice of you to join us, princess,” Dean remarked while you sat at the round table across from him.

“Ew, don’t call me that,” you grimaced. “That’s your name for your hook-ups.”

He looked up at you over his laptop. “And what would be wrong with being one of my hook-ups?”

“I don’t know, everything?” you snorted, scratching the side of your nose with the end of your nail.

The older brother apparently caught sight of your nails and shook his head. He turned his attention back to typing on the computer in front of him. “I don’t know how you can function with those.”

“And I don’t know how you can function with your head up your ass, but here we are,” you snapped back. Taking a deep breath, you regained your composure. “What’d you guys do while I was gone?” you asked Sam.

“I called the FBI, had ‘em check their missing persons data bank. No John Doe’s fitting my dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.”

“And you got nothing?”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry,” you told the brunet.

“Eh, it’s alright,” he tried to shrug off. You saw right through it, and it seemed as if he knew you did. “But, uh, Dean thinks he found a case. Some guy got mauled by the Invisible Man according to the sole witness.”

“Well, what are we waitin’ for?” you smirked. “Let’s go.”

***

“Sam, you got purple shit on your hands,” you told the younger brother as you got into the Impala.

The boys had come to pick you up from the motel they had dropped you off at about an hour earlier.

To your surprise, Dean chuckled at your comment.

“Dean made me paint our new roommate purple,” Sam grimaced.

“Oh,” you nodded, “must be a game today.”

“A big one, apparently.”

“So, where are we headin’?” you asked.

“To church,” Dean responded.

***

The muffled voice of the preacher carried through the ornate wooden doors of the church Lori Sorenson went to. Sam told her that she was the witness and her father preached at said church.

Dean led the way through the large doors and held it open for his brother. You tried your best to shut the door quietly, which you did successfully. The congregation hardly noticed you had come in. The three of you sat in the back of the church.

The voice of the preacher finally registered in your ears as you stared forward blankly. “The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings. So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”

Sam lowered his head just like the rest of the congregation, but you kept yours looking straight ahead. You were not a believer in any sense of the word.

The younger Winchester nudged you with his elbow, motioning for you to bow your head. You did so reluctantly.

***

“Y’know, that was the first time I’ve ever gone to church,” you told Sam as you walked out of the mass.

“Really?”

“Yeah, no, and I definitely don’t regret never having been before after that.” You paused. “That felt like a cult gathering,” you went on.

“Stop talking,” Sam nudged you when he noticed some of the people exiting the church around you giving you strange looks.

You laughed, quieting down as you walked toward a young woman who you assumed to be Lori.

“Are you Lori?” Sam asked the brunette.

“Yeah,” she smiled, turning to face you.

“My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and our friend, (Y/N).”

“Hi,” you smiled while Dean waved.

“We just transferred here to the university,” the younger brother continued.

“I saw you inside,” Lori replied.

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and--”

Dean cut his brother off. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

“I kind of know what you’re going through. I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

You cast your eyes up to Sam’s face, which was still toward Lori.

Lori nodded slightly, her smile faltering.

The reverend walked up to your group.

“Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). They’re new students.”

Dean shook Reverend Sorenson’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”

It was incredibly hard for you to resist the urge to snort out a laugh.

The older brother chuckled. “Listen, uh, we’re new in town, actually--” he began to lead the reverend away from you, Sam, and Lori, “--And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group.”

Catching on to what Dean was doing, you told Sam you would see him later. Sam looked down at you questioningly while you gave him a knowing smirk.

The tune of “Rocketman” by Elton John left your lips as you whistled, leaning against the car in wait for the brothers.

Dean was the first to walk up to you. He stuck his hands in his pockets before settling back in the spot on the Impala next to you.

An awkward silence fell between you both after you stopped whistling. A few minutes passed before Dean spoke up.

“Y’know, I’m surprised,” he started.

“About what?”

“You actually kept your mouth shut for more than two seconds.”

“Bite me, Winchester,” you grumbled.

***

Dean lead you and his brother through the rows of books in the town’s public library. Sam was hot on his heels to converse with his brother as they walked.

“So you believe her?” Dean asked.

“I do,” the younger brother responded.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.”

“No, man, there’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.”

“Wait, the body suspended?” you jumped in, stopping in the middle of the aisle the older brother had led you to. The two Winchesters followed suit and faced you.

“That sounds like the Hook Man legend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam nodded.

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever.”

“You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man,” Dean said.

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began.”

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Maybe Mr. Hook Man’s a spirit,” you suggested.

Dean shook his head, doubting you once again, but headed off to ask the librarian for the town’s death records anyway.

***

A little while later, you and the boys were sat at a table in the center of the library watching the librarian set large boxes on your table.

“Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851.”

Dean blew some dust off of the top of one of the boxes and coughed, making you snicker.

“Thanks,” he said.

She nodded, replying, “Okay,” and then walked away.

“So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?”

“Welcome to higher education,” Sam remarked.

You opened up one of the four boxes, grimacing as you looked down at the large number of files inside.

***

Hours later, your head was hurting from the amount of reading you had done. Dean scrubbed a hand over his eyes and yawned before Sam piped up from the shelf he was leaning over behind you.

“Hey, check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’”

While Sam talked, you were busying yourself looking over another page in the file. When the brunet finished speaking, you went on, “Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.��

“Look where all this happened.”

“Nine Mile Road,” Dean read.

“Same place where the frat boy was killed.”

The older Winchester was impressed. “Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let’s check it out.”

You put the document you were holding back into the file and helped the boys clean up your table. After that, the three of you left the library with Jacob Karn’s documents in hand.

When you opened the doors, you were surprised at the fact that the sun had almost completely set.

“Jesus, we were in there a while.”

***

By the time you got to Nine Mile Road, the sun was gone. The black night enveloped you and the Winchesters, save for the few patches of road illuminated by the streetlights.

Dean popped open the trunk while you slammed the car door behind you. He handed his brother a hunting rifle.

“Here you go.”

“Uh, it’s a spirit, dude, not a deer,” you reminded Dean.

"Yeah, I got that, smartass. It’s rock salt.”

“Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent,” Sam added, taking the rifle from Dean.

“Yeah. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” The older brother took some rope out of the weapons box before shutting the trunk.

The three of you began walking toward the trees lining one side of the road.

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” Sam inquired.

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius,” Dean replied.

You heard a rustling noise coming from the trees and shrubbery behind you and stopped walking.

The younger Winchester pointed his gun toward the sound, and you jumped behind him. He cocked the gun simultaneously.

“Put the gun down now! Now!” he yelled, aiming his own pistol at you. “Put your hands behind your head.”

“W-w-wait, okay, okay!” Dean stuttered out while you immediately shrank to the ground, laying your weapon down.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

Deciding it best to follow his instructions, you remained on the ground.

“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!”

Once again, you followed the man’s instructions.

“He had the gun!” Dean protested.

“Shut up, jackass!” you ordered harshly.

***

The next morning, you walked out of the sheriff’s office confidently with the boys hot on your heels.

“I saved your asses,” you said proudly. “Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Somebody give me an academy award.”

“But how?” Sam questioned.

“I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that Dean was hazing you.”

“What’d you say you were doing there?”

“I told him I was Dean’s girlfriend.”

Dean about choked on his own spit. “You what?”

Sam ignored him and kept asking questions. “What about the shotgun?”

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?”

“Well, you look like a dumbass pledge,” you smirked.

Sam punched your arm playfully, making you laugh.

A few moments later, your attention returned to the sheriff’s station when multiple police officers sprinted out of the building and sped off in their cruisers.

You looked up at Sam, who mirrored your concerned expression.

***

Poor Lori sat wrapped in a disposable blanket on the back of a parked ambulance, and you watched her as Dean drove the Impala past her.

You could see Reverend Sorenson talking to the sheriff about something, but they soon disappeared from view when the older brother turned down another street.

Once he parked the car, you and Sam walked with him around the back of Lori’s sorority house.

“Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road,” Sam pointed out.

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else,” Dean suggested. You pulled him by his shirt collar back against the wall of the sorority house when you noticed two sorority girls coming out of the side entrance of the house.

“What the hell was that for?” Dean questioned.

You nodded your head around the corner behind which you were hiding.

Dean’s aggravated glare immediately softened when he saw the two pretty girls.

“Dude, sorority girls!” he whispered to Sam. “Think we’ll see a naked pillow fight?”

“You are such a pig.” You shook your head as you scaled the side of the house, managing to get up onto a ledge attached to a balcony.

Sam climbed up after you, grabbing the hand you offered to help him up onto the ledge.

You got up from your knees to follow Sam.

“Uh, a little help?” Dean called quietly from down below.

You looked over the edge. “Hm, no.”

“(Y/N), c’mon,” he begged.

“What’s the magic word?” you smirked.

His mouth dropped into a frown, but the older Winchester begrudgingly said, “Please?”

You were still smiling. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You got to your knees, leaning over the end of the ledge. Dean grabbed the hand you extended, and you helped to pull him up.

Dean followed you over the railing of the balcony, but he was the first to head to the window Sam had gone into.

“I’m waiting, Winchester,” you told him, finding toying with the boy fun.

“For what?”

With your hands on your hips and putting most of your weight to your right leg, you cocked your head to the side.

He finally caught on. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

You rushed in front of him to go into the window first, turning around to stick your tongue out at him.

Not a moment after you found your footing, Dean took it from you once again. He caused both of you to stumble as he fell through the window behind you.

“Oh, sorry!” he told you.

“Be quiet,” you muttered, choosing not to let your annoyance overcome you.

“You be quiet!”

“You be quiet!” you bit back childishly.

For some reason, the architect who designed the sorority house thought it was smart to put a window inside of a walk-in closet. You stood up once again between two rows of clothing hanging from the walls. The younger brother looked through the small crack between the doorframe and closet door, waiting for someone to leave the room before the three of you headed into it. Once he spotted that whoever the people in the room were had left, he pushed the door open. When it made a small creaking sound, all three of you pressed your backs to the shelves in the closet. After you were sure the cops had gone, you walked into the bedroom.

Your jaw clenched and your body tensed when you looked at the macabre scene before you. The first thing to catch your eyes was the bed, blocked off by caution tape and covered in blood. Next were the words scratched messily into the wall. Words that you assumed had been written by the Hook Man with his hook after killing the sorority girl since the words were dripping with blood.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?”

A symbol of a cross with four ‘x’s around the outside of it was beneath the words.

“‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’” Sam repeated the phrase embedded into the cream-colored wall. “That’s right out of the legend.”

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right,” Dean added, tapping the end of his nose as he said his next sentence. “It’s definitely a spirit.” He walked over to the window.

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before.”

“Hey, wait,” you cut in. “Does that look familiar to you?” You pointed to the cross beneath the letters.

“No, why?” the older brother asked, coming back from the window.

“I think it was on the hook in the drawing. There was a, uh, a chain attached to the end of the hook Jacob used I think with a pendant hanging from it.” With that, you headed off to the window in Lori’s closet. The boys followed you back to the Impala.

“Keys, please,” you ordered.

Dean followed your instructions, tossing the car keys to you so you could open it.

After grabbing the Jacob Karns file from the backseat, you handed it to Sam. The brunet walked around the front of the car to sit on the hood while he looked through the papers.

“Y’know, I’m surprised,” you told Dean.

“About what?”

“You actually didn’t fight me on something for once. And you let me touch the keys to your car, all in the same day.”

“Bite me, (Y/L/N).”

You snickered to yourself, following Dean to sit next to Sam on the hood of the car.

“It’s the same symbol,” Sam confirmed. “Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns.”

“All right, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down,” Dean responded.

Sam flipped to another page in the file and began to read. “’ After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery in an unmarked grave.’”

“Well, shit,” you mumbled.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why.”

“I’ll take a wild guess about why--” Dean began, walking around the car to the driver’s seat, “--I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this.”

***

You were somewhere you never thought you would ever be-- a college party. Sam and Dean’s new fraternity brothers invited them to it. A tall, handsome guy was chatting you up. He told you his name at some point, but you had since forgotten it.

“Whaddaya say we get out of here?” he asked you.

“Hm,” you pretended to be in thought, “I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

“No?” he smiled.

“Uh-uh,” you replied playfully.

He leaned his face down to yours slightly, his arms working their way around your waist. “What can I do to fix that?”

Your arms found your way around his neck. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

He leaned his face further down to connect his lips with yours. You closed your eyes as you kissed him back, making sure to keep your drink level in your hand.

The two of you made out for a few more minutes before you were called away from him by Sam.

“Sorry,” you told the boy, excusing yourself.

You and Dean walked up to Sam simultaneously.

“Hey,” Sam greeted the both of you.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me,” Dean started. “This college thing is awesome!”

A pretty girl passed Dean by, and he winked and smiled at her.

“This wasn’t really my experience,” Sam grimaced.

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?” you teased.

The younger brother nodded.

“What a geek,” Dean jested. “Alright, you do your homework?”

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam unraveled a piece of paper.

You took another sip of your drink while Dean read from the page.

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage.”

“There’s a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument.”

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Deam inquired.

“A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?” You waited for Dean to catch on.

When he suddenly understood, you went on. “Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his only daughter.”

“Reverend Sorensen. You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe,” Sam answered for you. “Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?”

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it,” you added.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean told Sam suggestively.

“What about you two?”

You caught Dean staring at a beautiful blonde smiling at him from her position by the pool table.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find that unmarked grave,” he said reluctantly. “C’mon, (Y/N),” Dean commanded as he walked away shaking his head in disappointment.

***

Deep inside of Old North Cemetry, you and Dean walked around with flashlights in hand looking for Jacob Karns’ grave.

“(Y/N)!” Dean called from several graves over.

You jogged up to him. He was shining his flashlight on the grave in front of him. The same symbol that was on the hook and scrawled into the wall of the sorority house was engraved on the headstone.

“Nice job,” you nodded.

‘Wow, you actually weren’t a bitch for once.”

“Fuck off.”

***

Dean had taken off his jacket and button-down a while ago, just as you had abandoned your hoodie on the grass above where you were now digging. The two of you stood back to back in the hole you dug, continuing to drive your shovels deeper. You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your dirt-covered hand.

“That’s it.”

“That’s what?” you asked.

“Next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house.”

“Oh, come on, dickhead, let’s just get this over with.”

Finally, your shovel hit the wooden box the priest was encased in. You broke through it.

Dean looked over your shoulder at Jacob Karns’ remains. “Hello, preacher.” He threw his shovel up to the top of the hole.

“Gross.” You scrunched up your nose as you did the same with your shovel.

Dean clambered out of the hole, disappearing from your vision as he walked away.

You almost climbed out of the ground when your foot slipped and caused you to fall back down.

Dean peered over the grassy ledge at your slumped over form. “Need help, princess?”

“I got it,” you grumbled, feeling as though he was mocking you. You tried to climb out of the hole once more but failed.

“Sure you don’t need any help?”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, asshole?”

“Yeah, maybe a little bit,” he smirked.

“Dick.” You reached your arm up to him.

“Bitch.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you up next to him.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“Mm-hmm.” Dean had his back facing you as he pulled a few items out of his duffel bag. He turned to throw you a box of salt before grabbing a bottle of lighter fluid. You poured the salt over the body while he poured the fluid.

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean lit a match and dropped it onto Jacob Karns, completely engulfing the pine box in flames.

“I’ll never get used to that smell,” you told Dean as you began packing up the bag.

“Of what, a sizzling decomposed body?”

“Yeah,” you grimaced.

A few moments of silence passed between the two of you while you worked to clean up your mess.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

You paused. “Nevermind.”

“No, what’s up?”

Once again, you hesitated.

“(Y/N).”

You could not bear to look at Dean. “Am I a burden to you?”

“No,” he answered.

“Dean, be honest with me.”

“What do you want me to say, (Y/N)? You want me to tell you I hate your guts and wish you were dead?”

You got up and turned to look at him. “Well, do you?”

“No!” He lolled his head to the side before bringing it back to the center. “Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because if you didn’t really think that way, then why else would the shifter say that to me?”

“You’re still on the shifter, huh?”

“How could I not be?” You bit back. “Picture this. You and your best friend’s brother fight all the fuckin’ time. It’s all fun and games until Toledo, Ohio, where he thinks you’d have the chops to murder somebody. Murder someone close to you. Then he tells you that he’ll be glad you’re gone when you finally find his dad. Oh, not to mention he tells you you’d drive your family insane enough that they’d kill themselves. So when a shapeshifter walkin’ around with his face, it’s really not that hard to believe him when he tells you your best friend’s brother thinks you’re a burden.”

Dean was completely silent. “(Y/N)--”

“Save it, Dean.”

***

You had not said one word to Dean since you left the cemetery. Even now as you walked down the hallway of the hospital Sam told you he was at, you would not speak to him.

There were police officers stationed a little way before the entrance to a hospital room that Sam and the sheriff were standing in.

Dean tried to push past the two cops, but they put their hands on his chest to stop him.

“No, it’s alright, I’m with him. He’s my brother,” he told the cops before waving and calling to Sam. “Hey! Brother!”

“Let them through,” the sheriff told the two officers.

“Thanks,” you said to the policemen while you walked past them.

"You ok?” Dean asked Sam once the three of you had met halfway.

“Yeah.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Hook Man.”

“You saw him?”

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?”

“What are you talking about, we did. You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?”

“It sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.”

“Well, yeah, the guy wouldn’t send the Hook Man after himself.”

Realization washed over you.

“Lori,” you cut in.

“Yep,” Sam affirmed. “Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.”

“So what?” Dean questioned.

“So she’s upset about it. She’s upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Ok, so she’s conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?”

“Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.”

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” the older brother tried to joke. “But I burned those bones, I buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?”

“You must have missed something.”

“No. I burned everything in that coffin.”

“Did you get the hook?”

“Crap,” you started. “I don’t remember seeing the hook.”

“I don’t get it, why do we need the hook?” Dean asked.

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him,” his younger brother replied.

“So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.”

“So if we find the hook...”

“We stop the Hook Man,” the two boys said simultaneously.

***

Aside from a few comments you made to Sam, you remained abnormally quiet throughout the rest of the day. You had gone to the library, where Sam discovered the hook had been sent back to St. Barnabas Church-- the church where Lori’s father preached. You and the Winchesters figured that the hook was the reason the priests that preached at St. Barnabas had been cursed for the past two-hundred years. The hook had been reforged into something else, however, hence why the three of you were heading back to the church to try and find it.

Dean slammed the car door behind him, immediately barking orders at you and Sam.

“Alright, we can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire.”

“I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam added.

“Alright, take your pick.”

“I’ll take the house.”

You followed Sam wordlessly.

“Hey,” Dean called after you and his brother. “Stay out of her underwear drawer.”

You scoffed, continuing your walk up to the Sorenson house.

As you and Sam rooted through the living room together, Sam finally decided to comment on your strange behavior.

“What’s goin’ on with you, (Y/N)?”

“Hm?” You were hardly paying him any mind, continuing to go through the items in one of the side tables.

“(Y/N),” Sam said again, but softer this time, “What happened?”

You sighed, turning around to face him. “You remember how I told you the shapeshifter said I was a burden to Dean?”

He nodded.

“Well... I asked Dean if he really thought of me that way.”

“And?”

“He said ‘no,’ but of course he’d say ‘no.’“

“Wait, so you asked him to give you an honest answer, but you wouldn’t accept ‘no’?”

“Well, now that you say it it sounds fuckin’ stupid, but--”

“’But’ nothing,” Sam cut you off. “You’re pissed at him because he told you you weren’t a burden?”

You were silent.

“(Y/N)... you don’t think you’re a burden, do you?”

You remained quiet once again, turning back to the drawer. You forced the lump that had formed in your throat down and went back to work.

“So, how’d it go with Lori?”

“(Y/N), don’t change the subject.”

“Sam--” you warned.

He sighed. “I kissed her.”

You spun back around. “Why don’t you sound happier about that?”

“Because I pushed her away.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. You were not quite sure what else to say to that.

“It just didn’t feel right.”

“I get it,” you told him. “It probably won’t for a while. But you’ll get through it. And I’m always here if you need help.”

“Thanks,” the young man answered. “I’ll always be here for you, too.”

You nodded sharply, turning back around to continue your work.

***

“We got everything that even looked silver,” Sam told Dean as the two of you descended the stairs into the church basement.

The older brother was throwing everything he had found into the furnace.

“Better safe than sorry.”

You dumped the bag of silver things you were carrying into the fire, but your head jerked away from the flames when you heard footsteps on the floor above you.

“Move, move,” Dean demanded quietly, taking his gun out of his back pocket.

You took your gun out of the back of your jeans before you headed up the stairs behind Sam.

All three of you were surprised to see Lori sitting in a pew alone and sobbing her eyes out.

You lowered your gun and went back down the stairs. Dean trailed behind you.

Aside from the crackling flames, the room was silent while you and Dean worked. Only a few minutes later, however, you heard pounding footsteps heading down a set of stairs separate from the one you and Dean had come down. Not a moment later came Sam’s muffled howl of pain.

You sprinted up the stairs and held your gun out in front of you. Dean took the lead and dashed down the set of stairs he thought Sam and Lori had gone down.

“Sam, drop!” Dean yelled before you got into the room.

When you rounded the corner, you saw Sam crouched down on the floor with a horrified Lori huddled in the back right corner of the room. Dean shot the Hook Man, causing him to disappear.

“I thought we got all the silver,” you expressed.

“So did I,” Dean affirmed.

“Then why is he still here?” Sam asked.

“Well, maybe we missed something!”

You looked over at Lori. “That cross on your neck.” You pointed to the small silver cross necklace she wore.

“What?”

“Where’d you get it?”

“My father gave it to me.”

“Where’d your dad get it?”

“He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school.”

"IIs it silver?!”

“Yes!”

Sam ripped the chain off of her neck.

Not a moment later, a horrible scratching sound came from down the hallway you and Dean entered from.

You rushed out of the room down the hallway to where the scratching was coming from. Using your gun, you shot at where you thought the Hook Man was. Of course, he decided to make himself invisible at that moment which made your targeting only that much more difficult.

“Sam, Lori, get outta here!” you yelled.

Sam hesitated for a moment before grabbing Lori’s hand and taking her down the hallway in the opposite direction of where the Hook Man was.

Within the next second, the scratching sound stopped, and all signs of the Hook Man were gone.

You wheeled around when Lori shrieked. The Hook Man was towering over them with his hook raised in the air. Before you could move to aim your pistol, the spirit began melting from his hook down through the rest of his body.

Dean returned a few moments later having destroyed Lori’s necklace. He glanced over Sam and Lori’s huddled together bodies, giving them a knowing look.

***

The sun had risen by the time you were almost through with your interrogation.

“Yeah, we all saw him. We fought him off and he ran,” you explained to the police officer writing your statement down on a notepad.

“That’s all?” he asked.

“Yep,” you replied, popping the ‘p.’

“Looks like your buddies are headin’ out.” The officer gestured to Sam getting in the Impala where Dean already sat with the end of his pen. “You best get goin’, too.”

You nodded with a tight-lipped smile in response. While you got into the car, you noticed Sam looking in the passenger’s side rearview mirror at Lori.

We could stay,” Dean suggested to the brunet.

The younger brother shook his head.

You turned around in your seat to see a sad-looking Lori as Dean pulled the car away from the scene. With a shake of your head, you turned back around, crossed your arms over your chest, and slumped down in your chair.

So caught up in your own world, you did not see the strange glances Dean kept throwing you in the rearview mirror.

Feedback is always appreciated and tags are open!

Series Rewrite Babes:

@rach5ive @ppeachygemss

Dean Girls:

@akshi8278

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croonerboy1965 · 4 years

Text

As Many Forms of Love: Chapter 2- Thief of Hearts

By librarian-von-sassypants and croonerboy1965

Eddie didn’t detest formal dances exactly. He knew there wee good reasons for this one. It solidified his social standing, gave him less of an air of “crazy loner with the damaged son” which many people wanted to attribute to him. He just never saw the point of them otherwise. Crowding one hundred of your closest neighbors into a too-small room, making them dance and fraternize and eat food that everyone secretly thought was sub-par, where everyone talked about everyone else behind their backs, and smiled prettily to their faces.

Eddie had the good fortune of being a conventionally attractive man, and wealthy. He never lacked for conversation or dance partners, and he played the part obligingly, but if he had his way, he’d spend the evening with a book and a glass of brandy, or perhaps reading Christopher bedtime stories.

He’d made one ally early on. Lady Lena Bosko. Utterly beautiful, charming, and, as far as Eddie could tell, utterly uninterested in the company of men, at least in a romantic sense. She was the only female in the room, it seemed, who was not trying to foist hints of marriage upon him, and thus had become a wonderful companion with whom he could simply stand back and observe the party.

“Lady Fortense is absolutely sleeping with the Earl of Viconze,” she whispered to him behind her fan.

He was slightly enamoured with the way her vibrant red hair caught the candlelight around them and reflected it back like fire.

“She would never admit to it, of course, and neither would he, but you can bet her husband knows.”, she said.

Lena was abreast of all the latest gossip, and the circle she chose to share her vast knowledge with was small indeed.

“Poor Viconze,” Eddie remarked as he took another sip of his wine. “She’ll eat him alive.”

Lena smirked.

“She most certainly will.”, she said, biting into the ripe berry she pulled from the lip of Eddie’s glass.

Eddie was well aware that most people took their lingering on the edges of the room together to be a declaration of intent to marry, or at least of amorous feelings. In a way he took it for granted. He needed to find a wife. He knew, and Lena would make a spectacular one.

“So what about you?”, he asked. “Any inclination to nab yourself a husband? I am single, you know.”, Eddie said, as he took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers gently.

Lena giggled and pulled her hand away, feigning shyness as she fanned herself, turning away.

“Well, you are charming, sir. And I can definitely see the benefit of a mutual bond.”, she said.

“Sadly, I have no real interest in the carnal pleasures of the company of men...You on the other hand,” She gave him a knowing look.

Eddie, looked down at his feet, and flushed hot in the face.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”, he said with mock indignation. Then he broke into a smile and they both laughed out loud.

“I guess we’re both just a couple of mavericks.” she said, taking his hand again and giving it a squeeze.

“Still-- it’s nice to have a friend in all this.”, Eddie motioned to the crowded ballroom.

It had been a month since he’d gotten settled into his country estate, made the tour of the surrounding homes, and introduced himself and Christopher the neighbors. Lena was by far his favorite of the lot, and he had visited her estate, where she lived with her aging father.

To their left, a hush seemed to ripple over the crowd, as a new guest arrived.

“Lady Arielle Valens, and Escort”, the announcer said. Lena commented without looking over.

“Everyone’s been up in arms about who she will invite to her ball later this year. It’s supposed to be one of the most exclusive and sought after invitations of the season.” She said to Eddie as she took a long swig from his wine.

A voluptuous woman entered the room, with a dashing, young, strawberry blonde man on her arm. Her face was set in a smile that seemed chiseled from stone, not quite real, not quite false. She wasn’t remarkable looking by any stretch of the imagination.

“There’s something… mysterious about her---intriguing.”, said Eddie. He had only met her once when he’d introduced himself initially, but on second look, was caught up in her strange web. Something about the way her blue eyes latched on and didn’t let go. Or how there was a secret second smile hidden beneath the veneer, one blossomed like the sun, when she’d sat in her drawing room with Christopher, who had regaled her with tales of growing up in London. That boy could charm the pants off of a gargoyle if given the chance, and Lady Arielle could not help but let her guard down, in spite of herself.

She and her companion were making the rounds of the room, and when they drew near to Eddie and Lena, she looked over, and winked conspiratorially.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin.

“A friend of yours?” Eddie asked.

Lena, he noted with some surprise, flushed so red she was nearly purple, and buried her face in her fan with a small grin she couldn’t seem to pry off her face.

“We have...met.”, she said.

“Well, we will absolutely be discussing that, later.”, Eddie said.

Eddie let his gaze linger over Arielle’s companion. She was, to everyone’s widespread knowledge, quite single, but managed to show up to parties with ridiculously attractive men on her arm, and this new one was no exception. Tall, thin, with strawberry blond curls, cheekbones that could cut glass, and a smile that whispered of both sex and confidence with each glance. There was something vaguely familiar about him, Eddie thought, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“Her new one is rather attractive,” Lena commented as the two of them watched the newcomers make a slow circle of the ballroom. Every single eye in the room was doing the same, though most everyone pretended to be busy doing anything else.

“Hmm?” Eddie was distracted.

“Lady Arielle’s new companion. I haven’t seen him before.” Lena said. There was jealousy in her eyes, Eddie was sure of it, but she didn’t take well to teasing, so he held his tongue.

Once they had made a full circuit of the ballroom, Lady Arielle and her companion ended up in proximity to Lena and Eddie, as several of the guests slowly gravitated into their orbit.

“Lord Diaz, Lady Bosko, delighted to see you again,” Lady Arielle made a small curtsy, and nod of her head. “May I introduce my friend, Sir Evan, Lord of Buckley Manor.”

Eddie had never heard of Buckley manor, and he’d studied the surrounding area extensively during his decision to move. Still, no one would ever call her out on it, definitely not Eddie, so he stayed comfortable in the knowledge.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Eddie sticks out his hand for the man to shake. Lord Buckley takes his hand gingerly, and even through the gloves, Eddie can feel the heat radiating off him. The man doesn’t do that usual firmer than necessary handshake, as men so often do with Eddie, in an attempt to assert dominance.

“This is Miss Lena Bosko,” Eddie introduced them, as Buckley took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the air just above it.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Buckley said, and the smile he gave her was absolutely breathtaking. ‘Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.’, Lena thought to herself.

“You both must come to my house for tea next week,” Lady Arielle smiled, though it was a mere whisper of her full force. “Do, bring Christopher!”

“Christopher?” Buckley asked the question, and then looked like he wished he could stuff the words back inside himself. Lady Arielle either didn’t notice or chose not to.

“Lord Eddie’s son!”, she said brightly, a little bit of sunshine leaked out when she talked about Chris. “Absolutely the most charming human I’ve ever come across. Buck is staying with us for a few weeks... He loves kids, don’t you Buck?”, she said.

So it was Buck now. Eddie made a note in his mental ledger.

“Indeed!” Buck says with a smile, but doesn’t quite meet Eddie’s eyes.

Just then, a waltz began to play.

“Shall we have a dance?”, Lena said, in an attempt to break the tension.

“Of course.”, Eddie said.

“Shall we?”, said Buck, as he took Lady Valens by the arm and led her to the floor.

Arielle followed and soon they were swallowed up by the whirling flashes of color from a room full of glorious gowns.

Lena looked at Eddie as he led her round, her brow furrowed.

“Eddie, what is it?”, she asked.

“Nothing.”, he said as he guided her, a bit stiffly, in any direction that might put some distance between them and the Lady Valens.

“Eddie.”, Lena pressed. He was looking off in Buck and Arielle’s direction.

“How well do you know, the Lady Valens?”, he asked.

Lena cleared her throat, and said, “Fairly well.”

“How well?”, Eddie insisted.

“Well. Very well.”, she retorted, indicating she meant to add no more.

“Why?”, she asked.

“It’s just--her companion--”, but he was cut off as the pair of them bumped into he and Lena, throwing them ever so slightly off their rhythm.

“I beg your pardon, sir.”, Buck said, throwing Eddie a mischievous grin.

“Mind your steps!”, Eddie spat through a tight smile. As he came round to meet him on the next turn, Eddie almost caught his foot on the hem of Arielle’s gown, his eyes locked on Buck’s.

“Mind yours!”, Buck said, in mock indignation.

“Wha--?!”, Eddie scoffed.

“Buck! Mind your manners!”, Arielle said.

“Apologies Miss.”, Buck said, eyeing her buxom breasts. He thought perhaps he brushed them inadvertently.

“Not me, you nit!”, she said.

They had stopped in mid-round.

Buck looked up, face now red, and met Eddie’s gaze yet again. Try as he might, he could not speak. He felt embarrassed, yet --there was something else.

Lena turned away from Eddie, and tapped Arielle, on the shoulder.

“Might I cut in?”, she said. Arielle’s face became sunny, and she said, “But of course, Madame.”

Arielle met her palm in Lena’s and Lena placed her other hand around Arielle’s waist.

“Men.”, Lena sighed.

As they began their first turn on the floor, Arielle pushed her backside into Evan’s and he came immediately up against Eddie. Not knowing what else to do, he took Eddie in hand and began leading him in a waltz. The closeness, their eyes locked together, the slightest scent of sweet anise on Buck’s breath. His lips were crimson, almost blood red against his pale skin. Buck was slightly taller but his taught frame felt sinewy in Eddie’s arms. This made Eddie harden in his nethers, in spite of his better judgement.

Buck felt Eddie pressing against him, and his own rig twitched with desire.

He recalled the same sensation a few weeks ago, on the road. Buck could not believe he did not realize it sooner. This man. Sure, he is more groomed, more cultivated, more polished. But it is the same man. The one he almost robbed. The one he inadvertently molested.

He can see the exact second Eddie sees it on his face. Eddie can suddenly see through him. The brigand from the road. Nearly unrecognizable in a fashionable emerald waistcoat and cravat, but Eddie would recognize those eyes anywhere. Those stunning blue eyes.

It hits them both like an avalanche.

“YOU!?”, they said in unison. They separated, suddenly aware they had been pressed together a bit longer than either one intended. Then covered themselves as each one spied the other’s reaction to said closeness. They quickly covered themselves with their hands in as polite a clasp as they could manage. Evan could not believe this was the same man. He was so...regal. So...handsome. Not at all like the disheveled traveler he’s nearly robbed a fortnight ago.

“I believe it might be time for you to call it an evening, Lord Buckley.” he said, mocking the title.

“Indeed.”, Buck said, turning to go without another word. As he left, he slid past Kingston, who glared at him, and then looked worriedly at Eddie.

Eddie put up a hand, and then put it quickly back down again, to cover himself. “It’s alright, Kingston, it’s been taken care of.”, he said.

“What have you done?”, Arielle said, looking accusingly at Eddie. “Buck! Wait!” she called after him, but he was gone. Lena shot him a look.

“What?”, Eddie said.

“Miss Valens…” Eddie said. “My deepest apologies, I shall have Kingston call you a carriage, and escort you home.”

“I think you’ve done quite enough.”, Lena said. “I shall escort Lady Valens home.”

Lady Valens, gave her a sheepish look. “How kind.”, she said. And they paraded past Kingston, who looked quite confused.

==============================================================================

Buck walked briskly toward the gate, and as he opened it, he was met by the two henchman he was in league with. He stopped, hands raised.

“Hi fellas.”, he said.

“Hello to you.”, the larger of the two said, his gun drawn on Buck.

“Griff…”, he said, “We are calling this one off.”

“Cawlin’ it off??!!”, Griff said. “I don’t fink so.”, he stepped forward and Buck stepped back.

“I s’pose you were finking of leaving me and Shep out in the cold and taking all the booty for yourself, eh?”. Griff said.

“Yeah, yew tryin’t’ cut us owt?”, Shepp said. He puffed out his chest. He was a full head and a half shorter than Griff and Buck. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his coat. Griff looked over his shoulder at Shepp, making sure to intimidate him. Shepp shrank down and looked at the ground.

“Look, they just moved here, there really isn’t enough to bother looting.”, Buck tried to sound convincing,

Griff looked back toward the manor, and he could hear the chatter of voices and the strains of music off in the distance.

“Sounds to me like it’s ripe for the picking, wut wif all the fancy laawds and laydees and wot not.”, Griff said.

Buck tried to sound forceful in his protest.

“NO! I hired you and I say what goes! And I say, we aren’t doing this!”, Buck said as he stepped to Griff.

Griff took the butt of his gun and cracked Buck on the head, knocking him out. He fell like a rag doll to the ground.

“Who’s the boss now, eh?”, Griff said.

They stepped over Buck’s unconscious body and off in the direction of the house.

Just as Lena and Arielle, made it to the door, they stopped dead, as Griff pushed his way in and forced them back inside. Once in the ballroom, he announced, “Awright everyone, This is a sick up! Get your ‘ands in the air!”

The crowd stood still for a moment as the music stopped, unsure if this was really happening.

Griff shot the pistol into the air over his head. The loud blast cause some of the ladies to scream.

“I said, get ‘em up!”, he ordered. Now, if you do as we say, no one’s gonna get ‘urt…Put all your money and fancy jewels in this here bag,”, Griff said, as Shepp took out a satchel and went around the room collecting valuables.

Griff looked over at Eddie, who was stepping protectively in front of Lena and Arielle. He motioned at them to join the crowd now pressed against each other at the far end of the room. “Now nobody move and we will be off shortly, and y’can go back to your li’l soiree--“, Griff said, just as he heard a small voice from behind, him.

“Papa?!”, Christopher said as he made his way bleary eyed down the stairs.

Griff whirled on him and instinctively fired his gun.

“No!” Eddie shouted and he ran at Christopher and dove to grab him up.

The bullet went straight into Eddie’s back, just as he reached his son, shielding him from the blow. Christopher screamed.

Buck burst into the room, his eyes as wide as plates, and his mouth dropped open. Blood was streaming down the side of his face, as he looked first at Lena, then Arielle, then Griff and finally Eddie. He thought he should charge at Griff, but Kingston was already there and tacking him to the ground. Kingston smashed the man to his back and throttled him with one hand while gripping Griff by the wrist with the other. He put his full weight to bear on him and bashed his gun hand on the marble flooring repeatedly until the gun came free. Sheep, dropped the sack of valuables and made way to the gun, but Lady Valens was there first and cold cocked him squarely in the face, sending him flying, flat on his back. This made Buck smile just for a moment, and then his thoughts returned to Eddie. Lena was already at his side, when he reached them. Christopher was crying and squeezing his father around the neck, his face buried in Eddie’s shoulder.

“Papa! Pappa, NO!”, he cried.

Lena tried to calm Christopher, so she could turn Eddie over, but he would not be moved.

“Eddie…Eddie! Wake up!”, she wailed into his ear. Buck moved in and managed to pry the boy off so Eddie could be laid on his back.

Griff tried to wrestle himself free, but Arielle had him. She scooped up the pistol, cocked the hammer and said, “Don’t even think about it.”

“You go collect the little one, I’ve got this one well in hand, sir.”

She motioned for Kingston to get up and she took his place, straddling Griff, sitting her full weight upon him. Griff thought for a moment this might be something akin to fun, in any other context. He half smiled at her as he felt her fit into his lap.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, you hear?” She pointed the barrel down to the waistband area his pants, pressing the barrel against the fabric of her skirt hard enough where he could feel it tucked neatly between them. Griff’s half-grin faded to a look of horror as Arielle leaned in and whispered, “Best save that for the boys in the big house, eh? I hear they like a stodgy man-toy.”

Kingston, took the binding cords from the drapes and bound Shepp. “Someone fetch a doctor! And get the constable!”

Eddie loosed his hold on Christopher, who immediately threw himself forward on to Eddie’s chest and wept. His glasses were all akimbo as he pressed his face into his father.

“Right away!”, Buck stood and dashed out the door. He headed for the carriage house and unhitched and mounted the nearest horse. “Hyahh!”, he commanded. The horse bolted forward and off he rode into the night.

#regency #911 fanfic #buddie

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